Kestrel is a Broadway fanatic, which requires her to spend a great deal of time in and around Times Square. Like any other native NYCer she has learned how to dodge the tourists and the bedraggled, terrifying, life-sized Elmo who tries to get a photo with you.

She very much looks up to George M. Cohan.

She knows her way around the tkts booth.

She can sit here and manage not to get stepped on.

Her current favorite show (well, ok, her favorite after Hamilton)(and, hmm, maybe after Dear Evan Hansen)(well, one of her favorite shows anyway): Hello, Dolly! So maybe the show itself is a little silly, but it has some of her favorite stars in it.

Kestrel loves to “stage-door”: that is, hang out outside the stage door after the performance in hopes of catching sight of one of the actors coming out. Kestrel will stage-door in any weather, for as long as it takes. Sometimes at the stage door she overhears the conversations of people who are clearly from out of town. She’s not sure how out-of-towners even know about stage-dooring. But they’ll say things like, “Santana? Fontina? Who is that? Oh, is he the guy in that TV show?” and she has to prevent herself from saying, “What are you even doing here taking up space and in my way?”

The Broadway community is unique. You can be a fan of a movie star, but you’ll never get to have an actual interaction with that person. But if you’re a Broadway fan, and you hang out at enough stage doors and you’re impervious to bitter cold weather, you might actually get to meet your idol.

And most Broadway people are really great. Some of the stars don’t come out the stage door at all (Kestrel won’t name names but you can guess who they are), some of them do come out but are immediately whisked by large bodyguards into waiting limousines (you can guess who they are too (Idina Menzel)): but most know that their fans have been waiting in the cold and will come out, sign playbills, and be really nice.

Santino tells Kestrel, “this is one of the weirdest things I have ever done.” She doesn’t quite understand why.

Back at home, Kestrel gazes at her signed playbill. Stage-dooring, and having access to the Broadway community, is one of the very best parts about living in NYC.

Kestrel is made from scrap-table batik. Her dress is a stocking from Jennie, her tights are tights, and her boots are made from an old shoulder bag and some ribbon. Her necklace is a mismatched earring from Ellen.

Out there

There’s a world outside of Yonkers

—from “Put on Your Sunday Clothes,” from Hello, Dolly