The urban designer whose weekly work commute is a trip from Philadelphia to Atlanta, and back

Philadelphia’s congested highways or crowded SEPTA platforms don’t get in the way of Daniel Rodriguez’s commute to work.

That’s because the Philadelphia-based urban designer’s commute between his firm’s two offices consists of two flights, two trains, and a bus across two states each week.

Rodriguez, who lives with his wife in their Jewelers’ Row apartment, ping pongs between his home (and his Center City office) in Philadelphia and his office in midtown Atlanta, twice a week.

Rather than moving to Georgia or embracing a simpler hybrid work-life balance, Rodriguez prefers an 800-mile trek to work that doesn’t have him dealing with Philly rush hour traffic and the restrictions car owners face.

“I want to live a life that’s intentionally, anti-whatever everybody else is doing,” Rodriguez said. “I feel like there are problems in society, and this is one of them that just trickles and affects so many things in our personal and professional lives. It’s not anti-car. It’s really about getting away from the dependency and focusing on building systems that help people move. That’s my whole philosophy.”

Rodriguez, who grew up in Bayamon, Puerto Rico, said it’s a lifestyle driven by the independence and movement he felt was missing in his youth.

The geographical barriers of the island often led to feelings of physical and mental entrapment as a child.

“Where I come from, I’ve never seen people so hungry to have something in life, with no ability to achieve it,” he said. “And I’m willing to do extreme things to do that.”

In May, the 34-year-old began posting videos of his travels to and from Philadelphia and Atlanta. His TikTok and Instagram posts have drawn millions of viewers, with hundreds of users questioning how Rodriguez balances his workload and travels.

His schedule varies each week, but he usually flies into Atlanta on Sunday nights and returns to Philadelphia on Tuesday nights. Sometimes, he will fly out on Monday morning and return on Wednesday morning. He also does additional same-day round-trips a couple of times a month.

The planning for his trips to Atlanta begins the night before. Rodriguez packs his bags and puts toothpaste on his toothbrush before going to bed.

He wakes up at 4 a.m., grabs his belongings, and walks to the Suburban Station. Here he boards the train to the Philadelphia International Airport and lands in Terminal F for his flight to Atlanta. He does have to factor in the regular delays.

“Terminal F is like the dingleberry of Philadelphia. It’s the last one at the airport, and really far,” he joked.

After the 90-minute flight to Atlanta, he walks over to the Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority platform for a 30-minute train ride to his company office in midtown Atlanta.

He’s not completely “anti-car,” he insists. He often rents a Zipcar for small errands and to explore Atlanta restaurants, art galleries, and sites that feed his architectural interests.

“I’m more along the lines of, ‘I don’t want to be dependent on a car,’” he said. “I don’t want to put my money toward that. I’d rather put that into something else, and suffer the consequences.”

Once his work day is finished, he either uses ride-share or takes a one-and-a-half-hour bus ride to a friend’s apartment in Decatur, arriving around 9 p.m. And before he rests his head for the night, Rodriguez begins his routine all over again for his return to Philly the following morning.

Rodriguez said his travel costs come out to about $180 each week, with the most significant barrier being the time and energy he spends to balance out his travels.

“It’s not unachievable,” Rodriguez said. “I feel like the pain point for a lot of people is the time. People don’t want to spend the time.”

Rodriguez didn’t always live like this. His super commute began after years of uncertainty. He moved to Philadelphia in 2022, and between 2023 and 2025, Rodriguez was laid off twice, incurring thousands of dollars in debt.

“I wasn’t even paycheck to paycheck anymore. I was living in the negative,” he said.

After another eight months of job hunting, he was at a crossroads. With limited jobs in his industry in Philly, he applied for roles in other cities.

He applied to an urban design firm in Atlanta, and the week his unemployment ran out, he landed his current role in May 2025. While the company has an office in Center City, the Atlanta location was the only one hiring in his specific field.

Rodriguez consults on transportation, green space, urban design, and master planning in Atlanta and other cities along the East Coast.

While the demands of the commute were challenging at first, Rodriguez believes he has made a decision that works for him. “I have my wife here, and I don’t want to uproot her,” he said.

Since he started making videos of his commute, his world has “completely flipped,” Rodriguez said.

He’s landed brand deals with travel-based companies and has spoken in various cities across the country about how fellow millennials can traverse the country without the burden of a vehicle.

Rodriguez plans to become a content creator full-time to encourage viewers across YouTube, Instagram, TikTok, and other platforms to avoid the pitfalls of car ownership.

His ambitions haven’t gone unchecked. Environmentalists who watch his videos often point to the carbon footprint he leaves behind, despite his aversion to car ownership.

Rodriguez admits his lifestyle could be viewed as contradictory. His modes of travel contribute to gas emissions, but he contends he’s not the sole source of the issue, simply a product of a system already in place.

“I did not pass the laws that allow oil barons to drive or force corporations to fuel jets that release stored carbon,” he said. “I am a participant in society, and there is no fully ethical way to exist within it.”

While he understands people’s precaution and confusion, Rodriguez is confident his weekly commute and lifestyle will work as well for others as they do for him.

“I love to create. I love to build. And I don’t want to do anything where you’re just staying still,” he said.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

A Berks County woman discovered a secret camera in her bathroom — and then it got much worse. Now, she’s speaking out.

In 2021, Douglassville, Pa.’s Stacey Rutherford discovered that her second husband, a doctor at Reading’s Tower Health, had hidden a camera in their bathroom, which for years had captured images of people showering and changing clothes.

In 2024, her husband — Justin Rutherford — was sentenced to 26 years and 10 months to 70 years for sexual assault charges, including rape of a child, rape of an unconscious victim, and invasion of privacy. Some of those crimes were committed against her teenage son, Tyler VanScyoc.

That same year, Justin Rutherford also received a 5- to 10-year sentence for plotting Tyler’s murder while he was in jail.

Throughout the process, Stacey Rutherford said, she and her family were tight-lipped about their trauma, hoping the privacy would protect them. Now, she’s speaking out.

“For a long time, my ex-husband’s voice was prominent in telling his side of the story,” Rutherford said. “It was always [about] what he was doing, and what was going on with him. And I think it was finally time for us to have a voice. It was a liberating moment.”

Both Stacy Rutherford and VanScyoc are telling their story in ABC News Studios’ latest Betrayal documentary, Betrayal: Under His Eye, now streaming on Hulu.

“It was almost healing, reliving it,” VanScyoc said. “Throughout this journey, I’ve learned that talking about all these experiences and the trauma is something you need to advance in your healing journey. It really did help me.”

Before meeting with Betrayal: Weekly podcast host Andrea Grunning in 2024, VanScyoc said he and his mother had not fully dealt with their past. “It’s your mother,” he said. “You don’t want to talk to her about those things. It’s harder for her to hear than maybe some other people.”

“I kind of pushed everything down,” he said. But through the docuseries, which also produced a podcast on the topic, the mother and son spent hours recounting their experiences and exchanging stories.

“The podcast forced me to do something I didn’t want to do,” VanScyoc said. “After going through all those meetings, interviews, and Zoom recordings, we started talking outside of the meetings as well. Now, we’re super open about everything. And I think it’s brought us a lot closer.”

Stacey said those conversations also opened her eyes to the various layers of sexual abuse.

“Like the psychiatrist that I spoke to said, ‘It’s sometimes easier for them to deal with the abuse that they live with than the unknown of coming out and telling everybody what happened,’” Stacey said.

She is still working through her guilt. “I don’t think it will ever go away. We’re supposed to protect our children. And when something like this happens, you instantly feel you have failed them” she says.

“We have to learn to give ourselves a little bit of grace,” she said. “We have to learn to put the responsibility on the perpetrators,” she said.

VanScyoc wants the series to inspire other survivors of sexual abuse to not just speak out against their abusers, but to find the strength in having tough conversations with loved ones — just as he did.

“I feel like that’s where the real healing starts.”

“Betrayal: Under His Eye” is streaming on Hulu and Hulu with Disney+.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

How a Kennett Square sandwich maker became best buds with Mark Ruffalo, thanks to ‘Task’

It was February 2024 and a normal workday for Michael Bertrando at Kennett Square’s Sam’s Sub Shop when his phone rang. The sandwich maker saw an unfamiliar number flashing on the phone screen. He usually avoids them but decided to answer this one.

It wasn’t spam. A Heery Loftus casting agent was asking if he’d be interested in being a stand-in for actor Mark Ruffalo in the HBO crime drama, Task.

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t want to do it at first because of the sub shop,” Bertrando said. “But it’s a good opportunity, obviously. So, I took them up on the offer.”

Later that month, he appeared for camera tests at Sun Center Studios in Aston, where he met Task directors Jeremiah Zagar and Salli Richardson-Whitfield. By the beginning of March, Bertrando had landed the biggest acting gig of his career.

Bertrando has appeared in commercials for Mercedes, McDonald’s, Nintendo, Oscar Meyer, and other international brands. After traveling the world as a professional clown, he worked the improv comedy circuit in New York and Chicago. He eventually moved back to Kennett Square to help his aging parents run the family’s sandwich shop, leaving him with little time to pursue acting.

“You get to a certain age and your family’s getting older, you have your parents to think about, and we have the family business. I kind of got bogged down,” Bertrando said.

Years ago, he would’ve jumped at the Task role, but he wasn’t sure he could simultaneously work on set and manage the shop. He is glad he agreed.

“It fuel-injected me,” he said. “After talking to Ruffalo and the other crew members, the experience really put a flame under my ass.”

As Ruffalo’s stand-in, Bertrando shadowed the actor, who plays FBI agent Tom Brandis in the Delco-set, cops-and-criminals series.

Every day Ruffalo was on set, Bertrando was right beside him. He performed stunt work for Ruffalo, and the two bonded over their Italian heritage, Bertrando’s travels as a professional clown, and their common start in theater and commercials.

“Ruffalo just talked me up so much,” Bertrando said. “He would be watching me on the monitor, and then say, ‘Michael, I’m going to steal what you just did there.’ And then I’d joke and say I was his acting coach.”

With encouragement from Ruffalo, Zagar, and creator Brad Ingelsby, Bertrando auditioned for a speaking role and landed the role of “FBI Officer No. 1″ in episode five, which premiered Sunday.

He was thrilled, of course, but he had one other goal in mind. Bertrando wanted to spotlight Sam’s Sub Shop.

Off camera, Bertrando introduced Ruffalo and the rest of the crew to the delights of his hometown, including specialty hoagies and cheesesteaks from the 80-year-old eatery, which is owned by his mother, Sandra Bertrando. Her father, Sam Frabriso, opened the shop 80 years ago. Her husband, Bert Bertrando, Michael’s father, helps out, mostly chatting with customers or slicing tomatoes.

“Ruffalo and [the crew] were fascinated with the stories about my mom, the crazy customers, and everything else,” he said.

Ruffalo ordered Sam’s Sub Shop for the crew, and Bertrando gifted hats and other merch to the wardrobe and production design departments in hopes they could land some screen time.

“I played two angles,” Bertrando said. “I had my acting angle, and then I had my family business angle. I kind of succeeded in both, and it was a great experience all around.”

Along with Wawa coffee and Rita’s Italian Ice, Sam’s Sub Shop menus appear throughout the series.

A photograph of Bertrando and Ruffalo eating the shop’s subs adorns the deli’s entrance walls. When Ruffalo asked what people say when they pass by the framed image, Bertrando said, “People keep asking me how I know Paul Rudd.”

The opportunity didn’t come without sacrifices for Bertrando. He was sleep-deprived for most of the six-month-long production, working 18- to 20-hour days between the set and the shop.

Some Fridays, he was on set until 4 a.m., then opened the shop at 6 a.m. But Bertrando has no regrets. His renewed love of acting has already materialized into new projects.

“If [Zagar and Ingelsby] come to town again, I want to make sure I have something to show them, too, since they were so supportive of me. You can’t lose these connections,” he said.

After Task wrapped production last year, Bertrando returned to the comedy stage. He’s currently testing new material at open mics for a future comedy special, tentatively titled “I’m Not Mark Ruffalo.” He also starred in a short film called Magnet Brain that won the best film award at 48 Hour Film Project — Philadelphia. And he is writing, shooting, and acting in a short film about his family deli.

He credits Ruffalo and the rest of the Task crew for reigniting his passion for acting and comedy. As for a worthy “thank you” gesture, Ruffalo has already offered a “terrible” suggestion.

“He wants a buffalo mozzarella sandwich [named after him] because it rhymes with Ruffalo,” Bertrando said.

“It’s not happening.”

“Task” airs every Sunday at 9 p.m. on HBO.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

A year of leadership shifts later, the Greater Philadelphia Film Office is charting new successes

In the Philly film world, Sharon Pinkenson was a trailblazer among trailblazers.

As longtime executive director of the Greater Philadelphia Film Office, she made Philadelphia a destination for Hollywood productions. This led to the filming of classics like 12 Monkeys and Silver Linings Playbook in the region and cleared the path for future films, true-crime shows, documentaries, music videos, and commercials.

When Pinkenson stepped down from the film commission in November 2024, after three decades at the helm, it fell upon longtime employees Erin Wagner and Nicole Shiner to carry forward the work of their charismatic mentor.

It’s been a year since they stepped into their roles as co-executive directors, and Shiner said the 20 years they spent under Pinkenson’s wing have begun to pay dividends.

“Having someone who’s been in the position for so long, and who had such a grand reputation and did so much for the community, it’s been hard coming in after her,” she said. “But the good news is, [Wagner] and I have been here for 20 years. We have a lot of institutional knowledge about how to move forward.”

The past year, she said, has drawn expected challenges. Among them is the loss of longtime film office director Joan Bressler, whom Pinkenson hired six months after becoming executive director. Bressler retired in August after 30+ years at the film office.

“She ate, slept, and dreamed of local film,” Wagner said. “She is an amazing woman who ran every program the film office had.”

Without the film office’s most tenured and recognizable leaders at the helm, Wagner said, the duo spent the past year reintroducing themselves to government officials, Hollywood executives, and members of Philly’s film community. The goal was to establish themselves as trusted resources and to showcase their “fresh, down-to-earth approach” as film office leaders.

“We talk up our local crew, our tax credits, our locations, and just remind people that we’re a short drive from New York. We’re close to D.C.,” said Wagner, who has spent many years as the film commission’s production coordinator. “We have an international airport, and we have some of the hardest-working crews in the film business. Don’t discount us.”

“[Pinkenson] taught us very well,” she said. “But at the same time, we’re different people and a different generation, and we just want to remind people that we’re here to help.”

Producer Nancy Glass, who has spearheaded several true crime shows filmed in the region, said Shiner and Wagner have been integral in making her projects come to fruition.

“They are very active and very helpful. They have time for everybody, and that’s really impressive.”

As the new faces of the film office, Wagner and Shiner have made use of their strengths. “I think we really do balance each other out,” Shiner said.

While Wagner handles the “new world of politics,” Shiner has taken on the financial side of the operation. She oversees available tax credits, finance fees, and other operational costs associated with the nonprofit organization.

Wagner’s connections with local crew members have been a boon.

During the filming of the HBO crime drama Task, 777 Pennsylvanians were hired as local crew, cast members, and background players for 177 days. Shiner said the production accounted for a $230 million economic impact on the region.

“We already know how great Philly is,” Wagner said. “The rest of the world’s finally catching up. Even though some of the projects may not have been filmed here, they may have come down for one or two days. But that puts our crew to work, and that’s what we’re happy to see.”

The duo are also building programs in direct support of emerging filmmakers.

Shiner and Wagner have entrusted Daniela Galdi, the new director of filmmakers, with relaunching the long-running Set in Philadelphia Screenwriting Competition.

The competition, now called the Joan Bressler Set in Philadelphia Screenwriting Competition, in Bressler’s honor, is open to all screenwriters who submit a screenplay for a feature-length project or original TV pilot that can be shot in the Greater Philly area. All genres are welcome.

The final deadline for the competition is Nov. 20, and the top winner will be awarded $10,000 to fund their future Philly-set project.

In the new year, they also plan to develop training workshops and hands-on programs to keep local crew members equipped with the latest production technology and techniques, ensuring they have the skills necessary to work on upcoming productions.

“Film is always changing,” Shiner said. “There’s always new technology, and if we don’t keep up and provide that education, those workshops, and the opportunities for people to learn about their craft, our workforce will suffer.”

The yearlong transition, Wagner said, has been “eye-opening” and “humbling.” She’s optimistic about the duo’s relationships with county partners and local legislators, and she’s thrilled for the future productions coming to town.

“I think that these people see a future in film and television and media and workforce development with us, and they see that we’re knocking on doors and don’t plan on leaving,” Shiner said. “We want to forge our own legacy. Not only follow [Pinkenson’s] footsteps, but create our own.”

While they remained tight-lipped on projects coming to the Greater Philadelphia area, Shiner and Wagner teased that there will be something big for the region’s true crime junkies.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Penn Museum unveils a new gallery that examines the struggles and resilience of Indigenous nations

For more than a decade, the Penn Museum has offered visitors an encyclopedic history and perspective on Native American history, with artifacts spanning from Alaska tribes to communities in the southernmost part of the continental United States.

On Saturday, the museum unveiled a new gallery showcasing the artistic, linguistic, spiritual, and revolutionary traditions of Native Americans across the country.

The Penn Museum’s "Native North America Gallery: Rooted in Resilience. Resisting Erasure" exhibit features more than 250 cultural items and art pieces.

Christopher Woods, Williams director of Penn Museum, said the new gallery builds on the institution’s expansive Native American collection while offering insights into the lives of Indigenous Americans today. It builds on a former gallery, which similarly focused on first-person narratives and consulted with Indigenous curators.

“We’re an archaeology museum, but this is really about Native American people today, and drawing on the connection between the past and the contemporary world. It’s important to show people that these are vibrant communities,” Woods said during a press preview. “Showing how strong they are, the nature of their resilience, the historical and cultural erasure, and having them speak in their own words is important.”

These works, which build on the previous exhibition, "Native American Voices: The People - Here and Now," that closed in July, offer a reframing of Native American history from four regions of the United States, including the Lenape Natives of the Delaware.

The immersive, multisensory exhibit includes a floral beadwork collar from the Northeast Lenape, a single-weave square basket from the Eastern Band Cherokee in the Southeast, a centuries-old clay ancestral mug from the Pueblo people of the Southwest, and a fringed ceremonial robe, known as a Chilkat blanket, from the Tlingit people of the Northwest.

Among the oldest items on view are chipped stone tools historically used by Native Americans, which were pulled from the Penn Museum’s collections. The newest items include a woven piece that was commissioned from Cherokee mixed media sculptor Brenda Mallory.

The gallery also includes images of regions the tribal nations have inhabited, interactive displays offering insight into the formation of their cultural items, tools, and regalia, and varying stories about their traditions, challenges, and resilience before and after European contact.

Alongside co-curators Lucy Fowler Williams and Megan Kassabaum, this comprehensive gallery was developed by cultural educators, archaeologists, and historians who are direct descendants and members of the tribal nations featured in the exhibit.

Among the eight Indigenous consultant curators, who served as narrative guides, were Jeremy Johnson, cultural education director of the Delaware Tribe of Indians, RaeLynn Butler, secretary of culture and humanities of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation, and Christopher Lewis, cultural specialist of the Zuni Pueblo.

The consulting curators assisted in creating the narrative flow of the gallery and worked with the Penn Museum to recover lost history and study their ancestors’ practices. They also contributed their own art and cultural items to the gallery.

Upon seeing the exhibition for the first time on Thursday, Johnson said it was an “emotional moment.”

“It was overwhelming,” he said. “It’s not just a room with a bunch of paintings or drawings. These are actual people I lived with, know, and are related to. I can tell you about every person here. Being able to give our tribal citizens, considering everyone is a relative, a voice was really emotional. We’ve always been seen as relics of the past.”

Kassabaum said the concept of the exhibit began four years ago, but many of the gallery’s elements were shaped by the consulting curators, who willingly shared their stories and welcomed Kassabaum and others into their communities.

Kassabaum and other Penn Museum consultants traveled to Oklahoma to spend a week with members of the Delaware Tribe. They brought back four items, including the floral beaded collar, and let their protectors relay how they were made.

Those kinds of connections can’t be made without the help of the consulting curators, Kassabaum said.

“These aren’t my stories and they’re not my experiences,” he said. “I have not experienced any of the trauma of these communities. I have not experienced the joy of these communities, and everything people have been willing to share with us has been incredible. … No matter how giddy or passionate I am about anthropology and archaeology, I can’t bring the same thing to the gallery. It was totally essential.”

Unlike other exhibitions sprawled throughout the country, Johnson said Penn’s inclusion of him and his Native “relatives” was based in good faith rather than historical or cultural exploitation.

“We know certain art museums have been problematic in the past, and are still doing that work,” Johnson said. “But I feel this is the first time we were asked in the right way. It was in the spirit of an actual collaboration, instead of asking for items to display, and that’s it. This was a good process, and we hope it stands as a model for future exhibits.”

The opening ceremony of the Native North America Gallery kicked off with remarks from Johnson and the other Indigenous consulting curators.

Their remarks were followed by traditional dance, songs, and storytelling by New Mexico’s Tewa Dancers. There was also an artist talk by Holly Wilson of the Delaware Nation, curatorial presentations led by Johnson and Joseph Aguilar of the San Ildefonso Pueblo, and a series of family workshops.

The gallery, which is now on display, is available for online and in-person viewing.

Visitors can reserve guided, in-person tours on select days. Tickets are priced at $26 for members and $30 for general admission. For more information, visit penn.museum.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

An artist started befriending strangers in Pa. prisons. Now she is turning them into artwork.

Over the course of three years, Carolyn Harper and Donna Martorano became fast friends.

The two women, on different sides of Pennsylvania, lived very different lives and shared few similarities. But they bonded over emails, handwritten letters, and virtual visits.

Martorano shared tales of her family, her health issues, her hopes of reconnecting with her two sons, and her growing sense of detachment from the outside world.

They spoke daily, but before they could meet, Martorano died in July 2024 at age 74 at the State Correctional Institution in Cambridge Springs. She was serving a life sentence without parole for first-degree murder for contracting two men to kill her husband in 1992.

The official cause of her death was a heart attack.

Harper said Martorano’s past and conviction weren’t the end of her story. In the 32 years she was incarcerated, Harper said, Martorano became a certified braille transcriber and took violence prevention and mentoring programs.

But in her later years, she grew increasingly “bitter,” Harper said. Martorano was confined to her bed and wheelchair and was often bullied as her health worsened.

“Her spirits were crushed,” Harper said. “I really feel she died of a broken heart because she was not given institutional support. A lot of prison administrators just don’t care. She told me she had nothing left to live for.”

For the past five years, Harper, 60, has connected with dozens of other incarcerated people, some with stories similar to Martorano’s and others with far different lives.

These stories, Harper said, opened her eyes to the emptiness, detachment, and inhumanity people experience in prisons.

Their names, faces, and stories are now at the center of her latest portrait series, “Prison Portrait Project: Faces of Despair, Hope and Transformation," on display at Old City’s Muse Gallery.

Harper has placed their portraits on hand-sewn quilts and vibrant batiks, transforming the faces of those suffering from the country’s carceral system into artwork.

Like Martorano, several of Harper’s subjects are serving death sentences, with little to no path for early release or commutation. Harper has never asked specific questions about their pasts, and everything she knows about them is what she has been told voluntarily. But she’s certain about one thing: None of the people she has befriended is the same person they were when they were first incarcerated.

Pennsylvania, she found out, is one of two states in the country that has a mandatory life without parole sentence, known as “death by incarceration,” for both first-degree and second-degree felony murder.

“I have come to see that guilt or innocence, while important, is not the critical thing here,” Harper said. ”It’s the idea of redemption and rehabilitation. This, to me, is the real story — the story of transformation.”

For decades, people suffering from abuse, discrimination, and disenfranchisement have made their way onto Harper’s quilts.

In the mid-1990s, she created panels for the AIDS Memorial Quilt, a visual project that memorializes the hundreds of thousands of Americans who died from AIDS-related causes at the height of the epidemic.

She also developed a series of textile portraits championing queer love stories, and another shedding light on the systemic issues faced by those wrestling with dispossession and homelessness.

“People often come out of prison and don’t have a pathway to find a real job or housing,” Harper said. “I started to see that connection, and I became interested in the issue of incarceration.

“We pay lip service to this idea that prison is reformative, but really it’s punitive.”

Born in Rochester, N.Y., Harper moved to Philadelphia in 1989 to study art at the University of Pennsylvania. Her days volunteering as an art teacher at local homeless shelters from 2013 to 2020 are what first drew her to the links between homelessness, dispossession, and incarceration. She was driven to learn more about the state’s prison system.

After her best friend was arrested in 2020 for abusing his husband, Harper’s interest became a lived reality. The health of her friend, who struggled with addiction and mental health issues, worsened due to his incarceration. Shortly after his release in 2021, he took his own life.

That pushed Harper to join organizations such as the Coalition to Abolish Death by Incarceration, We The People Coalition, and others. She wrote postcards, letters, and emails to incarcerated people throughout the state.

Before this, a self-described “snowflake,” Harper would veer away from conversations about incarceration. She started out fearing that she wouldn’t be able to emotionally cope with the struggles incarcerated people endure and write to her about in their letters. But she grew to become a listening ear, resource, and friend to people seeking human connection.

Through her hand-sewn and fabric-dyed portraits, she encourages her audience to step outside their worlds and enter the worlds of her subjects. Through her art, she highlights the forgotten humanity of incarcerated people and uses their testimonies to draw attention to Pennsylvania’s “harsh sentencing laws,” and correct the misconceptions people hold of those who are incarcerated.

The “Prison Portrait Project” started off with Harper writing to the people whose names, faces, and stories make up her art. Would they send her a photograph, she asked, and consent to be a part of her exhibition?

Most replied with a photo or told Harper where she could find one. Others had family members send photos to her. After she sewed them or transferred them onto quilts, Harper shared images of the final pieces with the subjects of the expressive portraits.

“I think seeing their self-portrait, and knowing it’s going in an exhibition, helps them see themselves in a different light. And that can be empowering,” Harper said.

Each quilt and batik-style image features a written statement from the person who inspired the portrait, ensuring their stories (along with their faces) are integral parts of the exhibit.

A binder containing more stories, statements, and poems written by people Harper connected with through the years, sits at the front of the gallery. Three self-portraits of incarcerated artists are also on display.

Harper is hopeful the show will inspire audiences to view those who are incarcerated as people, rather than lifeless serial numbers and charge sheets.

“Most of us don’t think about people in prison. If we do, it’s sort of with the feeling, ‘Well, they probably did something and deserve to be there.’”

She wants people to recognize the lack of redemptive pathways for people upon release, and the need for advocates to protect, defend, and humanize Pennsylvania’s incarcerated population.

“Prison Portrait Project: Faces of Despair, Hope and Transformation,” through Nov. 30, Muse Gallery, 52 N. Second St., Wednesday to Sunday, noon to 5 p.m. musegalleryphiladelphia.com

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

The West Philly rapper whose work has landed on ‘Abbott Elementary.’ Twice.

When Philly artist Amir Bey Richardson first uploaded his rap songs online in 2010, he was told his music was “too corny” to garner an audience.

“I definitely had friends who encouraged me, but I had other friends who used to call it ‘bus driver rap,’” Richardson said. “Or they said, ‘Too many people rap. Get out of here.’”

Today, Richardson is a go-to musician-for-hire for major network shows, including for the Emmy-winning, Philly-set comedy series Abbott Elementary.

Richardson, who goes by Bul Bey, knows his music doesn’t have the same musical edge that has long defined Philadelphia’s hip-hop sound. But he makes up for it with his more soulful and personal hip-hop records that speak to his West Philly roots and connect with a wider range of rap fans.

“Philadelphia is one of those cities where rapping is held to a higher standard, so I had to listen to my heart,” he said. “I was an artist whether I wanted to be one or not.”

While his sound didn’t match that of his contemporaries, he believes it sets him apart from other Philly artists.

On the Oct. 22 episode of Abbott Elementary, Richardson’s 2024 track “Elbow Deep” can be heard in the background as characters Gregory and Janine (played by Tyler James Williams and show creator Quinta Brunson), set the vibe for a friendly hangout.

“I lost my mind when I heard it,” Richardson said. “There are some explicit moments in the song, but when I saw the scene, it all made total sense.”

This was the second time Richardson’s music was placed in the hit series.

Back in February 2022, Richardson sent an “awkward” introductory message on LinkedIn to Abbott Elementary music supervisor Kier Lehman. Among the tens of tracks Richardson pulled from his catalog to include in that message, the 2014 single “Where I’m From” struck a chord with Lehman.

In early 2023, the Grammy-nominated music supervisor reached out to Richardson to request the use of “Where I’m From” for season two, episode 19, of the show.

Richardson said he’s still processing the achievement. “Sometimes I go back to the episode just to make sure it wasn’t changed,” he said.

That song placement, Richardson said, arrived at a “time of desperation.”

After a decade of making music, Richardson was at a creative crossroads. He was confident in his musical talents, but it felt like there were limited avenues to showcase them. “I felt very lost and desperate,” he said.

He stumbled onto Abbott Elementary like everyone else. Only he paused the TV to find Lehman’s name in the credits and reached out to him months later on the networking platform.

While he’s now “embarrassed” by his direct message to Lehman, the eventual song placement was the first time Richardson was ever paid for his music.

“That was definitely me crossing a threshold,” he said. “And in my mind, I was like, ‘I have to do that again.’”

It would be two years until that would happen. Earlier this year, Lehman reached out to Richardson to use “Elbow Deep.” Richardson approved immediately.

In the meantime, that first placement opened several creative doors.

Between his role as an event coordinator for the Free Library of Philadelphia Foundation, Richardson dropped a pair of collaborative EPs with producers Sam Live and Patrick Feliciano. He also contributed music to WHYY programs, such as Albie’s Elevator and The Infinite Art Hunt, and served as host of the Franklin Institute’s So Curious podcast.

He was even tapped to narrate a Skechers ad featuring Sixers star Joel Embiid, showcasing his abilities as a voice-over talent.

It’s all been a surprising path, Richardson said. One that has inspired him to pursue avenues that meld his love of music and Philadelphia.

“It let me know I had a narrower view of what I could do as an artist,” Richardson said. “I wouldn’t say I’m doing unconventional things, but it’s more of a wider range.”

His goal is to be a more notable name for big-budget shows and eventually land a placement on a blockbuster film. He currently has his sights on Sony’s animated Spider-Man multiverse saga, which Lehman served as the music supervisor for in 2018.

For someone who started out making songs from his college radio station at Pittsburgh’s La Roche University, and now sees his name on TV screens, Richardson has learned to avoid limiting his art and musical reach. And to the friends who previously doubted his abilities, he’s proving his music can take him places he’s never been, including prime-time television.

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

The Fairmount resident who dreamed up a women’s fightwear empire from her college apartment

Maya Nazareth was 17, living in Malaysia, when she started training in Brazilian jiujitsu and discovered the discomfort and limitations of women’s fightwear.

She kept adjusting her sports bra, fixing her rash guard and pants while trying to focus on the martial art that demands immense discipline and control. Nazareth, who struggled with body image issues, said the feeling of discomfort and frustration affected how she moved in the gym and in the world.

Back in the U.S, as a “naive” college student with $2,000 to her name, she dreamed of building Alchemize Fightwear, an apparel brand to empower women fighters across the world.

She founded the brand in 2020. Five years later, she won $300,000 on ABC’s Shark Tank, backed by Reddit founder Alexis Ohanian, Lori Greiner, and Kendra Scott in exchange for a 15% stake.

“I was having my chest exposed, my stomach exposed, and my pants fell during training,” she said. “That’s a huge barrier for women to train in these sports, especially in front of 50-plus men in a training room. I just thought I could create something better.”

Nazareth, who grew up in Malaysia and all over New Jersey, realized that she shared her reality with many women in male-dominated gyms and martial arts academies, who are often led to quit before they experience the confidence and power martial arts brought to Nazareth.

“Jiujitsu transformed me into someone who felt strong, powerful, and confident, but the gear I was training in didn’t make me feel that way,” she said.

While studying international business at the University of Delaware, Nazareth placed her first purchase order of rash guards from a manufacturer, trying them out herself and putting them to test.

Her college apartment was Alchemize’s first headquarters, and her car was a mobile sales office.

She started by surveying 1,500 fighters, from amateur athletes to professional competitors, asking them what elements would make their apparel more comfortable and functional for their specific disciplines.

Nazareth reshaped necklines in the tops, removed center seams from the bottoms, inserted silicone waistbands, and built in sports bras for added support and comfort.

What she offered was both stylish and functional for women fighters in jiujitsu, wrestling, and later boxing, Muay Thai, and other disciplines. They were all “customer-centric designs,” she said, that made for a more fluid and functional fit for martial arts practitioners. She even tapped MMA fighter Michelle Waterson to design a collection of her own.

“It’s nothing revolutionary,” Nazareth, 27, said, “but it’s really just thinking about the customer first and what they need from their fight wear.”

When she formed the brand in 2020, she built a company for every woman, in and outside the gym.

“Moms are fighters. People going through medical diagnosis are fighters. People trying to push through in their careers are fighters. And I think fighting is just a natural human movement that we all innately know how to do, want to do, and need training around,” Nazareth said.

“I really love that we have created an avenue for more women to step into that. I think it’s really powerful to say, ‘Hey, it’s safe to show up and express yourself in this way.’”

Under the Alchemize brand, Nazareth hosts free self-defense classes for survivors of domestic and sexual assault. She also organizes grappling camps in gyms and martial arts academies throughout the region to increase accessibility for women athletes.

“I’m personally passionate about what fight sports can offer survivors of assault and of domestic violence,” Nazareth said. “Just being able to make fight sports accessible to the everyday woman who may think, ‘I’m not a fighter,’ or who doesn’t see themselves rolling on the mat with a bunch of sweaty men. I think that’s something I’m really proud of and something I would like to continue doing.”

Her work and advocacy haven’t gone unnoticed. In December 2024, the Fairmount resident was named to the Forbes 30 Under 30 list for groundbreaking work in women’s sportswear and retail.

Less than a year later, she was pitching on Shark Tank.

She received an email from the Shark Tank production team in March 2025 and immediately questioned its legitimacy.

“I try not to overcommit to an opportunity before it happens,” Nazareth said.

Despite her initial suspicion, she filled out the application and took the phone screening. Two months later, she flew out to California to compete on the show.

”You never know if you’re going to actually air on the show or what’s going to happen,“ she said. ”But I started my business for the love of the sport and because I wanted to do something cool for women’s jiujitsu. So, every single opportunity that comes up, I try to do my best. It was really exciting.”

As she practiced her script, Nazareth took a moment to reflect on her journey. “I kept saying to myself, this is not the time to play small,” she said. “This is the time to be courageous.”

When she walked out to present, Nazareth said she “blacked out.” But her proposal sparked immediate interest from Ohanian.

She started out seeking a $250,000 investment in exchange for a 5% stake in Alchemize, and ended with $300,000 and a shared deal with Ohanian, Greiner, and Scott.

“It was really emotional and really, really cool,” she said.

In the months since the episode’s airing Oct. 22, Nazareth said the company has seen increased sales and a growing list of new customers. Having weathered the chaos of Black Friday, she looks forward to the slower Christmas season before things pick back up at the top of the year.

She’s excited about the new developments at Alchemize. In 2026, Nazareth and her business partner, Suzette “Suliy” Melendez, will launch the flagship Alchemize Fightwear Athlete Program.

The online program will support athletes as they scale their current and future businesses in and outside of combat sports. Melendez said the move aligns with Nazareth’s mission to empower women in sports and business.

“We want to give other women opportunities outside of jiujitsu and give them a platform to scale,” Melendez said. “Being able to have shoulders to lean on, on the mats or off the mats, helps create community with our events.”

Nazareth also plans to expand Alchemize’s sports camps, making it the “South by Southwest” of women’s combat.

Through all these ventures, the goal remains the same, she says: creating pathways for women to enter martial arts and encouraging them to “own their inner ferocity.”

– The Philadelphia Inquirer