Strength in the Spotlight

The Help-Portrait shoot for at-risk girls
ARLINGTON — She was small at first, standing against a white backdrop, surrounded by soft lights, and upside-down umbrellas, and photographers smiling behind their cameras, encouraging her to pose. Then Shanaya, 17, had an idea:
“What’s that thing they do on the red carpet?”
And everything was easy from there. She turned her back to the cameras, placed her right hand on her hip, cast a pouty look over her shoulder, and suddenly, there was the fun. Whole, long minutes of it, designed especially for her.
“It felt good to take my guard down,” said Shanaya, who lives at Germaine Lawrence, a residential treatment program for at-risk adolescent girls. “I went all out.”
All around the world last weekend, photographers gathered to take portraits of people who are often overlooked—people without homes, or good health, or a steady income, people who might see portraits as something only others can afford.
They had their hair styled. They got their makeup done. And then, smiling like celebrities, they stepped into the spotlight at shelters and schools, churches and community centers. By the end of the weekend, according to the organizers of Help-Portrait, 36,000 people had professional portraits to give as gifts this holiday season.
Lenny and His Ladies

Lenny at the Ms. Senior Sweetheart Pageant
FALL RIVER — For a while there, it looked a little dicey. The ladies were safely tucked away in the makeup room, getting their hair curled and coiffed. But outside, in the hallway, crisis had come to the annual Ms Senior Sweetheart Pageant. Word was spreading fast.
And Lenny Kaplan was spreading it. An hour before the show was to begin, his tuxedo still on its hanger, a sandwich in one hand, a cell phone in the other, the 79-year-old unofficial mayor of Fall River was holding court in the hallway, informing all members of his crew who did not know.
“Somewheres,” he said with a solemn face, “a gown is missing.”
Not to worry. These things happen. In 31 years of running this show, Lenny has seen plenty of nice plans fall to pieces. Didn’t one of his right-hand men call in early this morning with some kind of sickness? He did indeed. But Lenny made do.
There are so many moving pieces to this pageant for women aged 58 to 84. Every year, they arrive in Fall River and stay for 11 days—touring the city, performing at nursing homes, answering the judges’ questions.
Then comes the big day, this day, when they show off their talents to several hundred in the local high school auditorium under a blitzkrieg of lights.
“They’re absolutely gorgeous in their evening gowns,” Lenny says. “They shine, they bubble, they walk across the stage.”
So of course Lenny is calling around, and looking for that gown, and telling the hotel receptionist he loves her, when the gown is finally found.
Lenny has a life outside the pageant—a patient wife, two understanding children, a couple of thriving businesses, more friends than he can possibly count. But anyone in Fall River will tell you, this is the kind of thing he lives for: The sight of a 74-year-old woman from St. Louis gliding across the stage in her red sequined gown, smiling pretty, smiling proud.