Quotes About Community

I had mentors, growing up in gay life - older gay men who told me about our history and the history of art and culture - but somehow, the younger generation missed out on that synergy.

It's wonderful to be with people of a younger generation. it really is.

Through playing so many shows now outside of Japan, what I realize the most is that there is a very diverse fan base that comes to our shows. Sometimes you see older people, younger people, kids, female, male, a lot of different demographics, people from different backgrounds as well.

If we all understood we can learn from both older and younger people, then we'd have a better world.

You look out in our audiences, you don't see a sea of white-haired people. You see a lot of younger people.

I grew up in Burbank - but not the Burbank of valet parking and TV studios. In the late 1950s, there was a small apartment complex on Elmwood Avenue that rented mostly to families on welfare. I lived there from age 3 to 11 and again from 14 to 18 with my mother, Shirley, and my younger sister, Toni.

I grew up in Decatur, Georgia. We had three boys in the household; actually, it felt like four of us. My pops sort of raised my uncle, too. So, it was four boys and, later, a younger sister.

I grew up in Bushwick, and I lived with my mom. She was a single parent with three kids. I've got an older brother and a younger sister. We all were pretty active kids, but school wasn't particularly our strong suit; we were always good at other things.

Dad was a barber and Mum looked after the three of us and helped in school doing lunches. I was the middle child with an older brother, Ian, and younger sister, Karen.

I'm the youngest of five kids, and I wanted attention. And in Santa Barbara, there was lots of theater going on, so for that area, it was a little bit like playing Little League baseball. There were dance classes, theater classes, and I just loved it.

I was born in Corpus Christi, Texas, the youngest of four girls, including my oldest sister, Lisa, who has special needs. My mom was a special education teacher, and my dad worked on the Army base. We weren't wealthy, but we were determined to succeed.

When my mom, Mercedes, and her younger sister, Juanita, first came from Puerto Rico, they were the youngest in the family. They had to jump into a new community and really learn English, assimilate, and adapt - and I saw that. I grew up in that community.

I remember growing up as a kid in Houston, playing 3-on-3 in my grandmother's driveway. I was lucky to be the youngest of four kids, so we had each other to keep ourselves busy and out of trouble. Not all kids are that fortunate.

I always hung out with older people. I would be the youngest out of the crew.

I was the youngest member of the New York International Brotherhood of Magicians. It was me and a bunch of 60-year-old Jewish men.

I grew up on the tennis court with lots of other kids. There were like 40 kids all afternoon and I was one of the youngest ones, so I always had to chase everybody to keep up.

On my show, I'm definitely the youngest one. So going from a show where everyone is over 30, to the movie, where everyone was like 20, 25, it was like summer camp.

It's healthy to have older friends. You go, 'Look, I'm younger than them!' That's always the nice thing, if you can be the youngest one in the room at times. Like if you're always the oldest one in the room, you'll start to feel like the oldest person in the world. So get older friends, because they're cool. Get cool older friends.

My parents didn't really understand too much about sport. At that time, we were in a Polish community in the inner city of Chicago, and I was the youngest of a bunch of cousins. Polish families are real big, with cousins and aunts and uncles.

In swimming, everyone calls me grandma, because I'm the oldest there. Then with my friends, I'm the youngest and I'm the baby. It's definitely bizarre.

I grew up in northern California in a town called Fairfield, which is kind of exactly between San Francisco and Sacramento, a small suburb. And I'm the youngest of five children.

I grew up in the East End of London, the youngest of three boys in a Catholic household. Both my parents were market traders and worked seven days a week.

My youngest sister belonged to a group called the Twelve Tribes for many years. She recently left, with her husband and four children. Talking to her about her experiences in the group is fascinating, moving, and enlightening.

I joined a writing class at a nearby community center, where I was the youngest participant by about 40 years. Once a week, I'd funnel down a staircase and join the dozen retirees crowded in folding chairs around a table to discuss one another's stories.