My Gratitude to the Villanueva Women from Jane the Virgin

My friend Katie over at Nerdy Girl Notes is putting together a book of letters to fictional characters who have influenced and impacted us through their stories. While Jane the Virgin has only been around for one season, it's impact on me can not be understated. So in honor of the Season 2 premiere I thought I would write a letter to the Villanueva women.

Dear Jane, Xiomara and Alba -

I've started separate letters to each of you at some point over the last four months. I finally realized as unique and inspiring each of you are it is what you represent together that makes you poderosas (powerful). So it is only fitting that a letter like this should simply be written to the Villanueva women. All bright in their own right, but whose illumination comes from what they bring out in each other.

Growing up I had the good fortune to be surrounded by women like Alba. Strong minded, smart and loyal women whose purpose centered on those they loved most. Family is what drove their decision making and ensuring their protection as they navigated life. Alba you are no different than my Tias and my own grandmother. Through faith and wisdom you guide. You are quick to speak your mind and willing to stand tall when others would undercut those values for convenience. You instill pride of conviction and you embody the voice I sense in my gut and whispering in my ear when life brings me to a crossroads and the choices seem bleak. When you watch over Jane and Xiomara it is a sturdy loving shoulder to lean on. You may disagree or disapprove but never in a way that dismisses them out of hand, because you too have regrets. It is an anchor to a family filled with dreams, whether they are the far reaching of Xiomara or the carefully planned ones of Jane.

Xiomara, you represent for me the parent I continue to aspire to be. You are selfless without sacrificing your identity. You are brave, not because of your choices to become a young parent or to pursue a dream most would shy away from, but because your fears don't define you. Your fears are merely a pathway to your vulnerability. You know intrinsically that to be a parent means protecting your child and absorbing the costs through others misconceptions of who you truly are. You show up for your daughter with sympathy and a mirror that honestly reflects what is happening as opposed to what she may have laid out in her mind.  The importance of never sharing with Jane or Alba the truth behind Milkshake isn't just about your willingness to do anything for your child. It was understanding that it didn't matter how the world looks at you. People, strangers will make determinations about you for how you look, talk, and act. But only you can define your self worth, because only you know the truth that leads you to the choices you make. This choice for you reinforced that you are a good mother. At a time when outside opinions from advice columns to blogs across the internet undermine confidence and self belief you remind me that the only validation you need is knowing you did what was best for your child.

And Jane, you are a hero. You are a hero because you lead from a place of integrity and honesty. Your capacity to say the things that speak to the darkest corners of our fears is brave beyond measure. When you accidentally set fire in your room and confessed to Alba how the overwhelming reality had hit that you were going to be a single parent and didn't see it coming, you gave voice to an entire host of us who love our children deeply but at times find ourselves in a vortex feeling as though life has pulled the rug out from under us in a way that we need to constantly prove we can remain standing. Your ability to take ownership of defining yourself in a world that wants to define you through limitations embodies everything I want to tell my younger self to hold on to and ingrain in the child I am raising now.

I grew up straddling two worlds. To a lesser degree I now watch my daughter navigate a similar reality as the world around her tries to define her value and worth just as she is learning to define it for herself. I have watched the bond that the three of you hold. The generational wisdom, the strength you gain from one another's unconditional love and the loyalty and confidence you command as a result of each others transparency be it through Alba's faith, Xiomara's passion or Jane's pragmatism. You lift up and protect each other's dignity at a time and in situations that would easily pass judgement. You remind me the pride of my heritage and the legacy that lies within immigrant families is one of fortitude. It is a love that transcends circumstance and disappointment. A strength and a power that energizes me as a daughter, a mother and a Latina.

Yes, you Villanueva women may not have a long legacy of storytelling some of the characters who influenced me over the years had. However, in one short year you have given me the unique voice of my childhood, a prism as a parent that reflects and respects my own and brought humor and dignity to my lived experiences as a Puerto Rican woman. It's a dialogue long missing from the television landscape. I am so deeply appreciative of how colorfully you have filled it.

HAMILTON: Hip Hop or not 5 Reasons Hamilton is a Must See Experience

Hamilton is the toast of New York. $28 million advanced sale makes it one of the most anticipated shows to hit Broadway. Not bad for a guy who the Treasury Department recently decided to remove from from the $10 bill, in spite of being the person responsible for our country's financial system. Here's what I can say for sure they were right. The revolution will not be televised. Because it's playing 8 shows a week on Broadway.

For folks like me, residents of Twitterico and a deep admirer of Lin-Manuel Miranda's work, Hamilton was an exercise of patience. Imagined as a concept album (Hamilton's Mixed Tape) and given a tease of what would become the opening number during a 2009 performance at the White House I have followed the journey along with thousands of Miranda's twitter followers as Hamilton grew into a fully realized musical that embraces the meaning and significance of words while conveying the visual melting pot we were taught to believe our nation was and continues to be. 

Hamilton will open later this week with the wind at its back. Success at the Public Theater and word of mouth have made this show the hottest ticket in town. Just ask the several hundred people lined up daily for a chance to win $10 tickets during the #Ham4Ham lottery. I've had the good fortune to see both the original staging downtown and the tweaked version that now resides at the Richard Rogers Theatre. 

One thing's certain, Hamilton steps into the limelight with a lot of hype. I thought I'd offer five reasons why this show exceeds expectation.

1) Is it a Hip Hop Musical or is it a musical with Hip Hop?

Hamilton's secret beauty is that it breaks down assumptions within the story and more importantly those we enter into the theater with as an audience. I've heard and read a lot about how this show changes the game, but to assume that it's because of the show's grounding in Hip Hop would be a mistake. Doing so would minimize the lyrical dexterity and historical accuracy that this show deploys from its opening snap. It changes our theater vernacular in a way the expands the audience's vantage point rather than carving out an entirely new road. That's its secret weapon. Manuel's music evolves with these characters. We are given a musical journey that possesses raw staccato passages to convey the urgency and hunger of the show's namesake. Alexander Hamilton arrived in the country a man of no importance. His drive, his words and his relentlessness drove him to center of the creation of a country ("I'm just like my country, I'm young scrappy and hungry"). A parallel rises from the writing of Federalist Papers and the platform Hip Hop gave a generation of voices that hadn't been heard. A tight, caustic and inciting rap battle is the pinnacle of choices to represent the wizardry and wordsmiths our founding fathers were. Hip Hop serves as the perfect vehicle for the story of our countries founding. It's a musical movement born out of the desire for freedom of expression. Yes, Hamilton is a musical that opens it's doors to a world that Broadway often doesn't speak about, but the brilliance is that Lin-Manuel Miranda has done so while holding on to his reverence for all that musical theater has created before. 

2) A World Where Women have Voice

The women. The Schuyler sisters to be specific didn't have to play a prominent role for this show to be successful. In fact they could have simply been pivot points that offered context for Hamilton's social climb and downfall. Instead, their stories, their point of view is vividly given life both in stellar performances from Renée Elise Goldsberry and Phillipa Soo and through music that envisions smart women who understood while they may have been powerless in the framing of government, they still possessed power that had purpose in driving the actions of our Founding Fathers. It matters for the story to give the audience a full picture of who Hamilton was and it matters for how we tell our history. For someone like me, who is raising a daughter, seeing and understanding the significance of the roles women have in our country since its inception is important. Who tells your story is present in every facet of this work. It is particularly stunning that a story about the actions of men is closed by a woman. The idea that as women, the Schuler sisters found a way to use (and deny) their voice is magnificently powerful. Their opening number invokes the feeling of a Destiny's Child anthem. But as the show and women evolve their complexity and search for a place in the world mirrors that of Hamilton's journey. Time and care are given to this story thread and what we get in return is a depth of understanding for the people behind our history and their humanity.

3) A. Ham v. A. Burr: When do we charge forward, when do we hold back and wait?

The show does a terrific job of navigating the complex lifelong intertwined relationship between Aaron Burr and Hamilton. How these gentleman from similar beginnings end up on opposite sides of a gun barrel is much richer than a rivalry gone too far. This show mines that gold to provide opposite sides of a coin. They embody two different tactics and paths for survival and success. Hamilton's brash, impatient action driven nature could easily be interpreted as impetuous even though he was intentional. His hunger drove him. Burr, as our narrator provides the exact opposite. He's a man lying in wait. As you watch the show, Burr often lurks in the shadows of a scene. He's observing, commenting, but never fully engaged, never committed. Miranda chooses a interesting moment to show how similar these men are in their core only to watch how their choices and methods set them on very different trajectories. Leslie Odom Jr. as Burr gives us a performance journey that possesses remorse and envy in places where he could have merely been foil for the stubbornness of Hamilton. By doing so, his pivotal number "The Room Where it Happens" becomes a showstopping moment. Not merely for the insanely large performance he gives, but for the significance of how much it reveals that Burr and Hamilton are not that much different in their desires. While the songs "My Shot" and "Wait for it" establish Hamiton and Burr's differing approaches, this final number by Burr stirs that desire and power are an elixir no man is immune to, even one as calculated as Burr. 

4) Team of Rivals, actually a team unrivaled.

Much has been said about Lin-Manuel Miranda and his creation of this show. To stop there would undercut the talent embedded in this production. The creative team led by director Thomas Kail alongside choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler, set designer David Korins, costume designer Paul Tazewell, and musical director Alex Lacamoire make up a dream team for musical theater in the modern age. These gentlemen are the reason Hamilton is a Broadway show and not a concept recording called Hamiton's Mixed Tape. Kail's direction weaves together several points of view with seamless transitions providing for the passage of time, location and momentum for the characters. A great deal of this happens on the turntable and structural set Korins has the world inhabit. It's fitting that a story about the founding fathers is a framework and scaffolding. The visual works on multiple levels and keeps the focus centered on the language and verse rapidly coming our way. Blankenbuehler's choreography is storytelling at its finest whether it's animating a bullet travelling or using movement to covey urgency, fear and sadness. There is a breathtaking sequence towards the close of act 1 that if you stripped away the music and lyrics the story would remain perfectly in tact. These components speak to why this show is a masterpiece. Speaking of masterful. The puzzle that Lacamoire has put together as musical director is not to be understated. It would be easy to let the fact that the show is grounded in Hip Hop tell its musical tale. In reality Lacamoire has created a fabric of music that could have felt arbitrary, like selecting songs from a jukebox. Instead he has woven together a pattern that infuses the multiple genres that encompass Hamilton aligning the British Pop sounds to Rap as though they we always made to fade in and out of one another.  

5) This is OUR story. We are all immigrants

At the end of the day this is an immigrant story. A story that brings the internal motivation and optimistic urgency one feels to start a life to the forefront. This is true whether it's the life of a country, an individual or a legacy. Much has been said about the color blind casting of this show. It's significant to me not simply because it reflects our world today, but because it concretely says the stories of our founding father's belong to us all. 

I saw my first Broadway show when I was 9 years old. It was 10 more years before I saw characters who looked like me on a stage and reflected a world I knew. And not until I was 35 and watched Mandy Gonzalez sing about the challenges of living in two worlds did I see someone tell a story that reflected my personal journey. This is what makes Hamiton special. I sat in both the Public and Richard Rogers theaters as they filled with patrons, young, old, black, white, men, women.

All of us were taken into this immigrant story, because all of us can relate to wanting more than the hand life has dealt us. All of us can relate to the disappointment and betrayal that ambition can often cause. All of us can relate to the impulse to barrel ahead and the conflicting instinct that tells us to slow down and pick our moment more carefully. The success and failures that encompass Hamilton's life are the shared experience that this show conveys each of us at every performance. 

Who lives who dies who tells your story? 

At the close of In The Heights, Lin-Manuel Miranda's protagonist Usnavi declares: 

"Yeah I'm a streetlight chilling in the heat. 

I illuminate the stories of the people that I meet. 

Some have happy endings, some are bittersweet. 

But I know them all and that's what makes our life complete. 

If it's not me who keeps our memories, 

who's gonna keep the coffee sweet with secret recipes." 

What clearly elevates Hamilton is the truism that who tells the story is often as important as whose story is being told. That's the defining authentic voice Lin-Manuel Miranda gloriously brings to musical theater. He's a storyteller and the prism his light shines through is multifaceted representing the many intersections at which so many of us live our lives. Where Sondheim's music spoke honestly to the raw emotions of a generation, I believe Lin-Manuel Miranda speaks to the voices of the unseen. Those who often go unheard and have been declared 'other' as they travel through different facets of society. His words speak to the declaration of people simply looking for their place in the world. His, is a portrait of how and why life matters. 

Who lives, who dies, who tells your story? As a fan of musical theater all my life Hamilton is a show for the ages and proves Lin-Manuel Miranda is a storyteller for a generation.  #YayHamlet

DEAR EVAN HANSEN: A Musical that like Evan, Needs to Be Seen

High school is a time wrought with change and obstacles. It's a period in life when as much as you are trying to define who you are, there is a part of us that simply wants to belong. To be accepted, to be seen, whether it's in the hallways of school or our own homes. It's a common shared experience often deemed a rite of passage we all endure and now serves as the center premise for the new original musical Dear Evan Hansen playing at Arena Stage for the next three weeks. It's the rare experience these days to go to the theater and see an original script and score that has no source material fully realized. Dear Evan Hansen has created something intimate and moving. It's an experience, in my opinion that is not to be missed

The show's tagline: "A letter, a lie, a life he never dreamed he could have." frames the plot for the journey protagonist Evan Hansen takes in his senior year of high school. Crippled by social anxiety and longing for a place to belong is where we begin. However, it's certainly not where we land by the end of this 2 1/2 hour emotional show. The book by Steven Levenson taps into the awkward honesty and humor that almost always comes from sadness and creates a deeply moving story about the many faces isolation takes. His characters, especially the teenagers speak in ways that ring authentic to experience rather than preaching to an audience. This nuance is critical because it builds a world that moves the audience emotionally as we respond to the dichotomy that in a world that is more interconnected by the digital age, the reality often reveals that in spite of those connections we are more isolated than ever before. Viewed through the prism of a high school tragedy, the ripple effect touches everyone on stage. I was especially impressed by the attention given to the glaring truth of how parents can be just as disconnected from their children in spite of loving them, no matter the circumstance.


Evan's initial solo Waving Through a Window is an anthem for so many of us connected through technology in the hopes of being seen but crippled by the fear of rejection. In the hands of Ben Platt (Pitch Perfect) Evan's uncertainty from the opening moment of the show is palpable. His awkward endearing nature fills the stage with a sincerity as we believe he is paralyzed by fear. I believed him from the moment he sits down on that bed, physically turning his body inward on himself. Equally matched is his counterpart Zoe, the object of his affection and sister of the boy who will come to define his existence. Laura Dreyfuss carries off a tricky role with a stunning display of weighted sadness and anger she wears like a coat. Zoe straddles a world of being seen for all the wrong reasons while she navigates her own invisibility at home. Dreyfuss' voice is strong, luminous and filled with the conflicting indigence that comes from being a teenager. In Only Us the love ballad that bonds Evan and Zoe, Dreyfuss soars. This is not your typical love blossoming. Rather it is a realization by two young people that they are longing to be out of the shadows and not be defined by someone else's story. They crave the ability to carve out who they are for themselves. Once again, to simply be seen.

The show crescendos into what I would deem the most vulnerable moment of the evening when the lies Evan has told others and himself ultimately unravel and he is forced to look at what remains. Words Fail requires Platt to take his character one step off the cliff's edge he's emotionally brought the audience to so we understand the need to step out on faith and to find the self belief that one will survive. It's a gut-wrenching moment that doesn't become melodramatic because Platt has skillfully unfolded this young man, his anxiety and fears so honestly over the course of the entire show. Platt must make the audience believe in Evan as he makes a series of compounding poor decisions. We can never think that Evan is deliberate in his actions so that he maintains our sympathy. Platt excels at earning the trust of the audience with a raw inwardly directed self loathing that is never fully declared, but always on display. It's taps into anyone who's had those moments of inadequacy and feeling of being on the outside looking in to a world you can't quite reach.

Platt is surrounded by a stellar cast each of whom deliver moments of much needed comic relief to the weight of this show. And frankly, Alexis Molnar and Will Roland (Alana and Jared) do so much more than that. They represent that moment we all feel when tragedy or something profound occurs. How we actively seek to find a connection to an event in order to be a part of it in some way. It speaks to the melodramatic nature of being a teenager and seeing the world only through yourself but also to the more subtle ways we do it as adults. Connor is the catalyst for the events that unfold, the voice in Evan's head and frankly all our heads telling us we are not enough and that we don't matter in the grand scheme. Connor physically appears when you're not always expecting him to and navigates from a manifestation to nagging reminder of how voices of doubt that can drown out reason. Mike Faist has the difficult task of creating a character who must morph into that manifestation while still being the shadow that hangs over everyone in the show. He does so with well placed charm and a chameleon like approach to his scenes.

The one place I wanted more was from the parents who are impacted by Evan's actions, but perhaps that's merely because I related to their pain and sense of failure. We are given a heartbreaking performance from Michael Park as Connor's father Larry, particularly in his solo The Right Way, a song that examines the remorse he feels thinking about the parent he envisioned he'd be. Larry clearly sees Evan as a second chance, the do over that we never get as parents. Evan's mother is delivered quietly by Rachel Bae Jones, in a performance that sneaks up on you. She's the parent filled with a need to will her son to be fine, when she knows in her heart he isn't, but she doesn't have the ability to change it. Her final moment comes on the heals of Platt's Words Fail. As an audience, we are barely given a moment to take a breath when we are seized by the remorse and broken heart of a parent who fully recognizes the way she's failed her child, but utterly refuses to allow that sense of personal failure to excuse her need to be present for her child. She's vulnerable and transparent to his hurt. It's a lifeline that requires so much from Jones as she taps into how much we as parents want for our children in ways that redeem our own personal failings. It is an overwhelming moment in a thread of the story that I hope will be more interwoven into Act 1 as this production evolves and finds an eventual, deserved home in New York and hopefully Broadway.

Dear Evan Hansen's music is penned by Benj Pasek & Justin Paul, the duo who gave us Dogfight another show that introspectively looks at how we value our own self worth. Their songs reveal the truths we sometimes deny in order to survive and pose the questions we ask ourselves only in the quiet of our own thoughts. In the capable hands of Michael Greif who guided us so deftly through Twentysomething life in RENT and mental illness in Next to Normal is on point again with a show that often filters words and dialogue through third party mediums like the internet and a misinterpreted letter marvelously visualized with David Korin's set filled with moving screens that tells a story all its own.

Dear Evan Hansen is the type of work that leaves you reflective. It's a story that allows each of us to be seen through its characters and music. While the show questions the authenticity of how we connect the digital age. It clearly answers that our human need to feel, understand and connect remains constant. That feels especially true in the darkness of the theater as we applaud.

I couldn't let Maria leave Sesame Street without saying goodbye

Dear Maria, 

I heard the news you were retiring today and realized I needed to write and thank you for all you have given me. It’s been years since I’ve spent any regular time on Sesame Street but I was a regular visitor all through the 1970s. I returned with my own child to find you older, wiser but still bringing kindness and care to the many emotions young children feel but don’t always have the words to express. My most vivid thought of you was imagining how your hugs could heal the worst of hurts. You were the emotional center of Sesame Street for me, a girl who loved the escape of books, stories and imaginary play.

Maria, your were my first true friend. I so deeply admired that you were smart, independent, and said what you thought. More importantly, you showed me that people would like you FOR those qualities, not in spite of them. As a little Puerto Rican girl growing up in a predominantly white community in the suburbs of New York, that belief sent me to school with confidence to be myself, knowing I would be accepted. You walked with comfort on Sesame Street where acceptance was the norm and because of it, I never expected (or accepted) anything less in the communities I was a part of on the playground or in my neighborhood.

You taught me that being different was an asset. Being the only girl in a space sometimes didn’t make me weird, it simply made me true to myself. I didn’t realize its importance then, but you gave me someone who looked and spoke like me and my family on television. Not the stereotype that had been written into the fabric of our culture about Latinos as a whole. You were a driving force for the power of kindness to the most cynical of characters melting even Oscar the Grouch’s rough exterior away.

Because of you I saw Puerto Rico for the first time. Growing up, I’d hear stories about the island from my family but didn’t visit until I was 15. When you visited your family on the island and took Sesame Street with you I could see my own family in yours and our traditions given color and life as they were celebrated. It reinforced a love for my culture and validated it in a way that made me proud to share in my classrooms and with people who did not have those experiences. You helped me know from a very young age that my personal story was important, that I was seen. It was a life lesson that carries me today and is present in how I parent a young, multicultural child to love her unique contributions and know that being accepted doesn’t require that you assimilate to sameness.

Working in and later becoming co-owner of the Fix it shop you walked a non-traditional road that showed me the paths that were open to me were only limited by my own desire and capacity to imagine them. You helped teach me I could be anything I set my mind out to be. In a world and time that would go on to tell me I had limits as a girl, as a Puerto Rican your voice told me and showed me different. You echoed my parents in believing that doing your best was the most important thing you could do in the world, even when it doesn’t work out. It is a lesson I continue to pass on to my own child in a world so focused on being the best.  

As I look back on my days spent with the community on Sesame Street you were my reflection into a better world. A world where I sang and danced to count and spell. A community built on compassion and understanding. A world that was based on what was possible. A community that celebrated my heritage and culture instead of the real world that was actively seeking to marginalize and stereotype it.

Maria, for the little girl on Long Island who didn’t look like anyone else at school thank you for being one of “the people in my neighborhood” I am forever grateful.

PALEYFEST: Five Reasons you should be watching Jane the Virgin

In honor of  the final day of PaleyFest or as I like to call it TV Nerd Comic Con, I thought I would revisit what is easily my favorite new TV show to arrive this season. I wrote about Jane the Virgin after it's third episode, because that is all it took to realize what Jennie Snyder Urman and her team were creating was something special. Jane the Virgin is a show that manages to entertain first and endear its audience. It honors the cultural nuances and realities of the Latino community that are so often exploited, exaggerated and misrepresented in service of a joke or to lean into stereotypes. It is clear from the first episode that the writers and actors here have taken the time to understand that stereotypes exist for a reason and go about dismantling them with humor and poignancy.

There are many reasons to watch Jane the Virgin, but here are five I think are most salient and the reason to make this show Monday appointment television.

5. Latin Lover Narration - Like many shows before it (Ally McBeal and Eli Stone immediately come to mind) Jane the Virgin breaks fourth wall reality to remind us that in the very serious emotions we navigate as people, there needs to be a break for humor and the ability to see the absurdity of a given situation. Jane the Virgin is particularly deft at this styling and when they chose to use it. The show fundamentally understands how important it is to not take itself too seriously. The plot is fantastical and absurd, that is a fact. It is drawn from the great traditions of telenovelas and is unapologetic about those roots. I believe what makes Jane the Virgin successful is how they choose to let the audience in on the irreverence. They smartly created a modern day Greek chorus via a stereotypical Latin lover narrator (voiced to perfection by Anthony Mendez) who embodies the flare of the heighten realities of a soap opera with grounding logic in his observations to guide the stories the show is telling. The narrator serves as the voice in the audience's head. He is the mirror that calls out the obvious or blatant mishaps that occur. It provides a vehicle for the audience to abandon the fantastical pieces of the plot and fully invest in the characters and underlying stories of lived experiences that exist for families and in particular, Latino families.

4. The Writing - The team putting together these episodes has really tapped into something wonderful. They have found a voice that rings true to a broad audience but happens to be told through the eyes of a multi-generational Latina family. In my group of TV watcher friends who adore the show, we have found the common links of larger families and the influences they can play. The traditions vs. the stereotypes exist in all cultures. What continues to impress me 15 episodes later is the sheer bravery of the writers. Whether it is discussing the real ramifications of immigration on a family or the ridiculousness of a melodramatic father you've never known this group provides dialogue that I can easily imagine taking place in my own living room. The ability to bridge pop culture references with cultural touchstones is used with razor like precision. They also use every facility at their disposal to tell this story. The episodes are chapters, Jane is an aspiring writer, and embedded within the narration are often typed clues and commentary across the screen as though the story is being written as we go along. That combination offers huge laughs, open questions and certainly whenever any of the women wind up on the porch swing a piece of wisdom and familial love that touches into the very real vulnerabilities we all navigate with the people we trust most in the world.

3. Affairs of the Heart - There is a core love triangle embedded into Jane the Virgin and it is a testament to the show that two-thirds of the way into the season I still haven't picked a side. The combined talent of the actors who bring us Rafael, Jane and Michael with the fact that the show smartly made none of these characters innocent or pure creates a wonderful dynamic that leaves viewers conflicted about who to root for at any given moment. They use a common trope of third parties seeing something and misinterpreting what transpires to actually open up real questions about the characters feelings rather than merely create drama. That ability to layer a moment of doubt with an ounce of truth works wonderfully because there truly are no villains in this trio so there isn't a clear end game for these characters and that is what makes it feel honest as well as keeps it interesting.

2. Authenticity - No where else on TV will you find a show that is more accurately portraying Latinas on screen. Period. Jane the Virgin is not only calling out Latino stereotypes, they are dismantling them with humor and poignancy that honors our culture and speaks to the competency of everyone involved in the show. Jane the Virgin does something I've rarely seen for Latinos or women on television. It has established characters who bring their whole identities into the storytelling and does so in a surprising and genuine way. The show not only provides a character's point of view, but the experiences that inform it. I so deeply appreciate that Jane the Virgin takes the time for the audience to understand that perception is so rarely reality. It embraces the idea that our values are formed by a lived understanding of what it takes to navigate the world and protect that which is most important, those we love. Jane the Virgin also gets the little things right. The most prominent example being that Alba only speaks Spanish while both Jane and Xiomara respond in English. It would be easier for the show to merely have Alba speak in a heavy accent, choosing to have her speak Spanish honors who we are as a community. It reflects the world I personally grew up in and doubles down on what Gina Rodriguez so rightly declared in her Golden Globe acceptance speech, "This award is so much more than myself, it represents a culture that wants to see themselves as heroes." Every episode of this show has provided dignity to a community that hasn't often been displayed on television as much more than gang members and maids. It is what quintessentially makes this show special.

1. The Villanueva Women - At the end of the day the real love story of Jane the Virgin is that of the three women who make up the Villanueva family. It's a story of life told by mothers and daughters and the very real conflicts that come from navigating the duality of being a parent and child simultaneously. Gina Rodriguez, Andrea Navedo and Ivonne Coll have tapped into something truly special. They have created complex, flawed, vulnerable women whose love for one another is the lifeblood of their personal strength and conviction for how they navigate their lives. They are the honest mirrors and confidants that keep the unrealistically structured Jane, the flamboyant dreamer Xiomara and the traditional Alba grounded and ultimately hopeful. The center of their relationship is often on display in the scenes that take place on the porch swing. Here we are given the wisdom and unconditional love that is indicative of mothers and daughters. I was struck early on in the series when Xiomara's character gives advice to Jane to be selfish about what she needs. It speaks to the bravery of the writing and willingness the show has to allow their characters to display introspection on regrets and understanding that choices and decisions, regardless of being the right ones have moving consequences with lasting impact and influence. I had the great privilege to visit the set of Jane the Virgin on a day when they were shooting a porch scene. Watching these three women work and evolve a scene over a series of takes only cemented my thinking that the soul of this show is grounded in these three women and the great care and respect they bring to these characters. Each implicitly understands they represent much more than a positive take on Latinas in television. They represent a different way of looking at women inherently. They embody the truth that women are not monoliths - Latina, immigrant, single parent, mother or daughter. We are all of those things at all times. It is a beautiful depth of emotions and experience that has powerful resonance beyond plot and dialogue.

In a TV age where the anti-hero is revered and cynicism holds center court for many TV show plots, Jane the Virgin is a cool Miami breeze with the cadence of a great salsa band. It is loud, jubilant and honest. Jane the Virgin is quietly changing the game with its boisterous irreverent joy. Tonight the cast and creators take the stage at PaleyFest. Do yourself a favor and join them and then tune in Monday, you won't be disappointed.