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Ani DiFranco wants you to know she's more than a '90s feminist cult icon : Wild Card with Rachel Martin

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Ani DiFranco wants you to know she's more than a '90s feminist cult icon : Wild Card with Rachel Martin

Ani DiFranco says part of her feels she still has to prove herself.

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Ani DiFranco says part of her feels she still has to prove herself.

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A note from Wild Card host Rachel Martin: It’s hard to overstate just how important Ani DiFranco was to me in a particular chapter of my life. That chapter being the one right after college. My boyfriend of two years, which is an eternity at that age, had moved across the country to live with his parents while he figured out what to do with his life. And it slowly became clear to me that he had started a new relationship.

I was obviously heartbroken and I was angry. And the only thing that made me feel better was Ani DiFranco. I would just blast her album Dilate as loud as I could without pissing off my neighbors and sing my guts out to these feminist anthems, which in one moment could be really tender and stripped down and then in an instant they could be angry and messy.

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And that’s how I felt. DiFranco’s was the only voice that was real enough to represent all of those feelings at the same time.

DiFranco ends up hearing stories like this a lot. And it’s not that she resents that people remember her this way. It’s just that she wants to be more than a ’90s feminist cult icon.

And she’s put a lot of work into proving that.

In the last year alone, a documentary about her life and career came out, she released her 23rd album, and, when I talked with her a few months ago, she was in New York singing and dancing her way through her role as Persephone in the musical Hadestown.

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Ani DiFranco Sings “Our Lady of the Underground” from Hadestown on Broadway.

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This Wild Card interview has been edited for length and clarity. Host Rachel Martin asks guests randomly-selected questions from a deck of cards. Tap play above to listen to the full podcast, or read an excerpt below.

Question 1: What’s a place that shaped you as much as any person did?

DiFranco: New York City. I came here when I was 18 and I was just in shock. I came from Buffalo. And I mean, Buffalo is a real city. It’s a little hard-knock, Rust Belt town. The Buffalo I grew up in was economically struggling. It wasn’t like New York City was my first rodeo. But, wow. Still eye opening in so many ways.

I saw a lot of suffering around me, which made me cry every day. Every day. And I was sort of a smiley kid and it’s like, “Wipe that smile off your face and get it together. This is hardcore.” I showed up with hair down below my shoulders and within a few months of living in New York I shaved it. As in, “Go away.”

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Martin: The thing I love is that you were someone who craved intimacy so much. But you were building this barrier by shaving your head. So all you want to do is aggressively make eye contact with people, share some intimacy. But everyone’s looking at you like, “No, you look super scary!”

DiFranco: Yeah. That was really radical to scare people as a 5 foot 2 female. You know, that was pretty thrilling. Everyone should try it.

Martin: There is power in that.

DiFranco: Yeah. And when you have zero power, that can be useful. But, yeah totally, I’m a completely open, heart-on-sleeve little creature. And I was learning a lot of survival skills, but the little moments, when somebody would meet my eye or say something, I would carry those for days and weeks, like medicine.

Question 2: What is something you think you still have to prove to people you meet?

DiFranco: Ooh. I think at this point, I feel like I have to prove that I still have more. That I’m not done, you know? I get a lot of, “I loved you in the ’90s!” Or, you know, “In high school…” and we’re both 50. I have made 15 records since they got off. And I think some of my new records are some of my best.

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I guess a part of me, maybe on some level, feels I have to prove I’m not done. I’m not a singer from the ’90s. I’m right here and I’m still making art.

Ani DiFranco performs at the 2024 Tribeca Film Festival in June.

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Question 3: How do you stay connected to people you’ve lost?

DiFranco: Well, I guess my mind immediately went to death and first to my father who was my guy, you know, and I was his. For many years it was through dreams. I firmly know in my body and my spirit and my soul that death is not an ending of consciousness. That these bodies that contain us are temporary, but that our spirits live on. So I felt like my actual relationship with my father lived on after his body was no longer. I felt our interactions in dreams were not just memories or imaginings, but continued conversation.

Martin: Yeah, I get that.

DiFranco: And then, weirdly, if I can get even more spooky about it, at some point those dreams kind of dissipated. And I was thinking, “Where’d you go, dad?” And then I turned to my son, who’s 10 now, and I was like, “There you are. I’ve been climbing trees with you for the last five years.”

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I named my son Dante, which is my father’s name, before I even knew if it was a boy. I just decided this baby was Dante and that’s gonna be weird if it’s a girl and we’re gonna get a lot of looks. And then out he came and he looked, like, so like my father. And my relationship with my son is so like my relationship with my father. Our love, our bond, our understanding of each other, the way we make each other laugh.

On some level I had this revelation that, “Oh, you came back in some way in this new body to hang out with me again.” And this is what we’re doing. So that’s the most profound example I could give.

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It was called the Kennedy Center, but 3 different presidents shaped it

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It was called the Kennedy Center, but 3 different presidents shaped it

President John F. Kennedy, left, looks at a model of what was later named the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC., in 1963.

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On Thursday, the Kennedy Center’s name was changed to The Donald J. Trump and the John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts.

By Friday morning, workers were already changing signs on the building itself, although some lawmakers said Thursday that the name can’t be changed legally without Congressional approval.

Though the arts venue is now closely associated with President Kennedy, it was three American presidents, including Kennedy, who envisioned a national cultural center – and what it would mean to the United States.

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New signage, The Donald J. Trump and The John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts, is unveiled on the Kennedy Center, Friday, Dec. 19, 2025, in Washington, D.C.

New signage, The Donald J. Trump and The John F. Kennedy Memorial Center for the Performing Arts, is unveiled on Friday in Washington, D.C.

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The Eisenhower Administration

In 1955, President Dwight D. Eisenhower first pursued building what he called an “artistic mecca” in Washington, D.C., and created a commission to create what was then known as the National Cultural Center.

Three years later, Congress passed an act to build the new venue with the stated purpose of presenting classical and contemporary music, opera, drama, dance, and poetry from the United States and across the world. Congress also mandated the center to offer public programs, including educational offerings and programs specifically for children and older adults.

The Kennedy Administration

A November 1962 fundraiser for the center during the Kennedy administration featured stars including conductor Leonard Bernstein, comedian Danny Kaye, poet Robert Frost, singers Marian Anderson and Harry Belafonte, ballerina Maria Tallchief, pianist Van Cliburn – and a 7-year-old cellist named Yo-Yo Ma and his sister, 11-year-old pianist Yeou-Cheng Ma.

In his introduction to their performance, Bernstein specifically celebrated the siblings as new immigrants to the United States, whom he hailed as the latest in a long stream of “foreign artists and scientists and thinkers who have come not only to visit us, but often to join us as Americans, to become citizens of what to some has historically been the land of opportunity and to others, the land of freedom.”

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At that event, Kennedy said this:

“As a great democratic society, we have a special responsibility to the arts — for art is the great democrat, calling forth creative genius from every sector of society, disregarding race or religion or wealth or color. The mere accumulation of wealth and power is available to the dictator and the democrat alike; what freedom alone can bring is the liberation of the human mind and spirit which finds its greatest flowering in the free society.”

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Kennedy and his wife Jacqueline were known for championing the arts at the White House. The president understood the free expression of creativity as an essential soft power, especially during the Cold War, as part of a larger race to excellence that encompassed science, technology, and education – particularly in opposition to what was then the Soviet Union.

The arts mecca envisioned by Eisenhower opened in 1971 and was named as a “living memorial” to Kennedy by Congress after his assassination.

The Johnson Administration

Philip Kennicott, the Pulitzer Prize-winning art and architecture critic for The Washington Post, said the ideas behind the Kennedy Center found their fullest expression under Kennedy’s successor, President Lyndon B. Johnson.

“Johnson in the Great Society basically compares the arts to other fundamental needs,” Kennicott said. “He says something like, ‘It shouldn’t be the case that Americans live so far from the hospital. They can’t get the health care they need. And it should be the same way for the arts.’ Kennedy creates the intellectual fervor and idea of the arts as essential to American culture. Johnson then makes it much more about a kind of popular access and participation at all levels.”

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Ever since, Kennicott said, the space has existed in a certain tension between being a palace of the arts and a publicly accessible, popular venue. It is a grand structure on the banks of the Potomac River, located at a distance from the city’s center, and decked out in red and gold inside.

At the same time, Kennicott observed: “It’s also open. You can go there without a ticket. You can wander in and hear a free concert. And they have always worked very hard at the Kennedy Center to be sure that there’s a reason for people to think of it as belonging to them collectively, even if they’re not an operagoer or a symphony ticket subscriber.”

The Kennedy Center on the Potomac River im Washington, D.C.

The Kennedy Center on the Potomac River in Washington, D.C.

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Kennicott estimated it will only take a few years for the controversies around a new name to fade away, if the Trump Kennedy moniker remains.

He likens it to the controversy that once surrounded another public space in Washington, D.C.: the renaming of Washington National Airport to Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in 1998.

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“A lot of people said, ‘I will never call it the Reagan National Airport.’ And there are still people who will only call it National Airport. But pretty much now, decades later, it is Reagan Airport,” Kennicott said.

“People don’t remember the argument. They don’t remember the controversy. They don’t remember the things they didn’t like about Reagan, necessarily. . . . All it takes is about a half a generation for a name to become part of our unthinking, unconscious vocabulary of place.

“And then,” he said, “the work is done.”

This story was edited for broadcast and digital by Jennifer Vanasco. The audio was mixed by Marc Rivers.

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Fashion’s Climate Reckoning Is Just Getting Started

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Fashion’s Climate Reckoning Is Just Getting Started
From dangerous heat on factory floors to flooding across sourcing hubs, climate risks are catching up with fashion’s supply chains. While new recycling initiatives attempt to scale to address the industry’s waste and emissions problem, easing regulation in Europe raises questions about the path forward heading into 2026.
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The 2025 Vibe Scooch

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The 2025 Vibe Scooch

In the 1998 World War II film “Saving Private Ryan,” Tom Hanks played Captain John H. Miller, a citizen-soldier willing to die for his country. In real life, Mr. Hanks spent years championing veterans and raising money for their families. So it was no surprise when West Point announced it would honor him with the Sylvanus Thayer Award, which goes each year to someone embodying the school’s credo, “Duty, Honor, Country.”

Months after the announcement, the award ceremony was canceled. Mr. Hanks, a Democrat who had backed Kamala Harris, has remained silent on the matter. On Truth Social, President Trump did not hold back: “We don’t need destructive, WOKE recipients getting our cherished American awards!!!”

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