Irene Cara was the first Latina I saw in movies and television that not only looked like my family & friends but was also in my age range. (A pretty peer? Who could act, sing and dance? The crush was instantaneous.) I well remember going with my younger male cousins to a screening of Aaron Loves Angela in da city. The movie was about the tensions between Black and Latin folk in El Barrio which became exacerbated by the budding romance between Kevin Hooks and Cara. The on screen friction quickly spread to my primarily Black & Latin — what else? — audience with racial insults being hurled back and forth with increasing ferocity throughout the theatre. I quickly informed my cousins that when — not if but when — the shit went down whatever side was winning the fight, that’s the side we’re fighting for until we reached the exit doors. After we got there, well then we were gonna do whatever we hadda do. Luckily, fate intervened when a lone middle-aged White man suddenly stood up from his center row aisle seat and announced that he’d paid three dollars for his ticket and was tired of all the extraneous noise. “Shut up, all of you,” he screamed. Everyone magically did so. The theatre was completely silent….for a moment. The man kinda nodded to himself in an act of self-satisfaction. He was just about to sit back down when a half-eaten ice cream cone hit him in the back of the head. Then came the deluge of candy bars, popcorn tubs, Raisinet boxes and near-empty soda cups. Covering his face with his arms crossed at his wrists, the man pushed his way out of his row and ran out of the theatre pushing the exit doors with such force they almost came off the hinges. As the doors swung back and closed, a great cheer resounded throughout the theatre. Attention was quickly paid back to the movie as a closeup of Irene Cara filled the screen. “Goddam,” yelled a brother, “she is fine!” Everyone laughed and finally began to enjoy the movie. The thing is the brother was right. She was fine. The shame of it is that only a handful of films — Sparkle & Fame — really capitalized on her talents. (Same with her albums.) And now she — like too many that I grew up with — is gone and we who survive are left to ponder what could have been as well as what should have been.