Illustration by Caroline Boudreaux

Q: How often do you eat Cane’s?
A: I once bet my crew at the original location that I could eat a Box everyday for a semester. I won. Now that I’m not in the restaurants as much, I eat Cane’s about three times a month.

Q: Is Cane’s doing anything to “go green?”
A: In November, we opened the first Raising Cane’s that serves 100% compostable products on the campus of Boston University. We are researching the potential of expanding this to other markets. We are also incorporating environmentally friendly building design and construction practices into our development planning.

Q: How many Cane’s dogs have there been?
A: Two – Cane II just celebrated her 10th birthday with her canine friends at the Raising Cane’s dog park.

Q: Who invented the secret Cane’s sauce?
A: If I told you that, I’d have to drown you in Cane’s sauce.

Q: What would your last meal be?
A: Seriously?? A Box Combo NSXT (no slaw, extra toast) and a fresh squeezed lemonade.

Q: What’s your favorite social network? Why?
A: Twitter. I don’t have time for Facebook but I can manage to write 140 characters. Are you following OneLoveFounder?

Photograph by Sahir Khan

What does love have to do with us today – aspiring college students – whose canvases may have no plans for another’s paint? To what extent are our amorous pursuits a necessary distraction from the ordinary? And further, what then of our individual dreams and ambitions? Do they wither away in the face of love?

Some think so. They think when you let love linger, you lose a part of yourself. So they avoid it, worried for their independence. I think they’ve already lost it through fear. For if they let love’s danger direct them only away from it, they’re living by default and without a full heart.

It’s true love can be like a drug. Its thin waft may dilate our mind’s eye – and in a blink – we become something else. We may act strangely under its influence, victims of some unfamiliar endorphin sequence. It can be a revolving door, its vectors leaving as soon they arrive.

But we were born from it, that love, our conception impeccably timed – forged of its fires and tempered in the eye of its storm. They say every life is a miracle. Why then should we spurn the same synchronous forces which engendered us? Just as we should not settle in choosing a partner, we should not dismiss love at the door on principal alone. That’s when love lingers.

This does not mean we should compromise our upward trajectory on the mere chance of love. Without discretion, it may drive us downward, perpetuating our vices. Rather, we can invest in love without gambling on it. We do it by investing in ourselves. It will yield a better, more attractive crop. The universe will decide when it’s ripe.

A calculus professor once spoke to me about her subject:

“Where you are isn’t all that important.

It is, but it’s only a relative point. It’s where you’re headed that’s important.”

Perhaps we really can wander around without knowing the exact coordinates of our destination. As long as we head the right direction, love may serve to complement our life experience, not trespass against it. We need not follow love around, as true love is not forced. It can find us effortlessly, folded in the darkest basement or crowning the most majestic plateau. Therefore, let us compel it to flourish in our slipstream as we ascend to the sky.

When we unite with love, we show concern for its welfare, not for the ways it may impede our personal progress. Only we can do that. Not love. Not that same love our dreams very much rely upon to thrive. Kahlil Gibran’s “The Prophet” speaks on the acoustics of love as it resonates between partners:

“Fill each other’s cup but drink not from the same cup.

For the pillars of the temple stand apart, and the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.”

So how do you speak of love? Do you do it with a smile? Do you swear it off through a clenched and drunken jaw? Do you scramble it in the frequencies of a cell phone transmission? Does a computer screen light the way for you to type its name after the city goes to sleep?

I say you do it with purpose – with maturity. You do it with love for yourself.

Without that, where are we headed anyway?

Illustration by Caroline Boudreaux

• The candle pass is the most common wedding ceremony tradition. The bride-to-be’s sisters pass a candle, covered at the base with flowers. The sisters each say something about the bride-to-be, then finally pass the candle to the engaged sister to blow out. This ceremony announces the engagement to the chapter as well as celebrates the bonds of sisterhood.

• Brides may choose to wear their membership pin or sorority crest on their slip or somewhere on their gown for good luck. If the groom was in a fraternity, the bride may choose to wear his fraternity’s pin on her garter (as long as it is not on the garter she throws after the ceremony). The groom may also choose to wear his pin on his lapel.

• It varies among sororities, but most chapters have songs to serenade the bride. A groom’s

fraternity brothers often serenade the bride with their fraternity’s sweetheart song, and the bride’s sorority sisters serenade the groom with their sweetheart song.

• Incorporating sorority colors into bridesmaid dresses and including one’s sorority flower or the groom’s fraternity flower into the bouquet is a way Greek brides have celebrated their sororities.

• A bride can take a picture with her attending sorority sisters at her wedding reception and send it to her national magazine with the wedding announcement — it probably will be printed.

• Some sororities have “something borrowed” for sisters to wear at their wedding which often bears the crest or letters of their respective sorority.

• A sorority or fraternity cheer is commonplace in Greek receptions, especially to motivate Greek alumni to get up and dance.

Godshall films a scene for Lord Byron in a swamp outside of Lafayette, LA. Photograph courtesy of Zachary Godshall

Zachary Godshall stands before his film class like any professor. He discusses the necessary evils of screenwriting’s restrictive and bland format. Having graduated from the University eight years ago, a casual observer may mistake Godshall as a student with his laid back attire and five o’clock shadow. Godshall may appear to be just another English professor, going through his daily routine. However, this 30-year-old Sundance invitee – named Louisiana’s Filmmaker of the Year – is anything but an ordinary teacher.

Since receiving an MFA in film from UCLA in 2005, Godshall has gone on to make three feature films. All of the films feature Louisiana as a backdrop, something the young filmmaker said he values. Raised in Lafayette, Godshall’s southern roots played a vital role in the filmmaker’s decision to return.

Making films for a living became a reality during a screenwriting class here at the University. Godshall says he remembers taking English 2009 with Professor Ricky Blackwood and “having a light bulb go off.”

Professor Blackwood, who has taught at the University since 1990, said he vividly remembers teaching the up-and-coming Godshall. “He stood apart from the rest in his ability. He knew how to swim and not just make splashes,” Blackwood said.

After graduating from the University with a bachelor’s degree in creative writing in 2002, Godshall went on to UCLA’s School of Theater, Film and Television. Upon completing his education, Godshall began work on his first feature film, “Low and Behold.”

The film, which follows an unlikely friendship in post Hurricane Katrina New Orleans, was selected for the 2007 Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance was the first film festival the young director attended. Though his film was not selected for a competitive category, the experience still taught him something film school could not.

“Seeing audiences of 400 people pack a theater to see your movie hit home the importance of making movies,” Godshall said. “The reason to make films is to share it with audiences, which is very gratifying.”

One may assume that Godshall’s accomplishments would pursuade him to live on the west coast and attempt to make a name in Hollywood.

“I’m not keen on being a gun for hire right now. I’d rather focus on doing the movies I want to make,” said Godshall.

Robert Longstreet, Eddie Rouse, Godshall and Barlow Jacobs before the screening of Low and Behold during the 2007 Sundance Film Festival. Photograph courtesy of Wire Images.com

He said that he sees filmmaking in Hollywood as a constant struggle for money and reputation. While the young filmmaker does not rule out the possibility of one day working in Hollywood, the impact Louisiana has had will always show in his work.

“When I make a movie, I want it to feel like it’s coming from someone, not from a machine,” explained Godshall.

Passion illuminates the young filmmaker’s expression as he speaks about Louisiana and its people.

“I feel most inspired and invigorated when I’m here. It’s my home. Everywhere you go, there’s something unique. Everyone has a unique story to tell,” Godshall said.

A perfect example of inspiration growing from his surroundings is Godshall’s latest movie, “God’s Archichects.” The documentary follows five divinely inspired architects as they set out to make their own environments without funding or blueprints, according to the “God’s Architects” official Web Site.

The movie won Godshall the title of Louisiana Filmmaker of the Year at the New Orleans Film Festival in 2009. The Lafeyette native considers the award a huge honor and great experience.

Despite his recent successes, filmmaking is never easy for Godshall. In fact, Godshall said he recalls that the first film he made out of college “should never be seen by anyone. It’s really boring. ” He adds that everything is a learning experience and helps one to grow better as a creator.

The filmmaker seems to be a jack-of-all-trades as he has written, produced and directed all of his movies. Although it may seem like he relies on himself to get his movies made, the filmmaker says he has learned a very important lesson through the years.

“I love to collaborate with people,” Godshall said. “I would say it’s the most important part of filmmaking and also the most exciting. You get to meet a lot of new talent and take the film to new places.”

Godshall said he feels that working with rising, unknown talent really brings a film to life. He takes collaboration to a new level in his third film entitled “Lord Byron.” Now in post-production, the movie follows a man experiencing a mid-life crisis.

“We had a fifteen page outline and no script. So it makes the filming process a lot of fun, but at the same time, it’s really hard to edit something like that,” added Godshall.

Photograph by Erin Arledge

When he’s not editing in the lab or directing on set, Godshall spends his time in the classroom, teaching screenwriting and film as literature here at the University. The director is just as passionate about teaching as he is about filmmaking.

“Teaching really forces me to get down to the essence of each story and reminds me of the fundamentals,” Godshall added.

Many of his film classes involve students helping one another through group discussions and scene reenactment, while Godshall guides from a distance.

“I really enjoyed having Zack as a teacher. He had a lot of good insights since he is so experienced in his field. I could tell he really cares about students’ futures,” Ryan Bergeuron, creative writing senior, said about Godshall’s screenwriting class.

LSU’s English Department benefits from having an accomplished filmmaker as a teacher. “Having Zack here is an inspiration to everyone trying to accomplish their dreams. He sat where every student is sitting now and made something of himself,” Professor Blackwood said.

Zachary Godshall may someday be one of the biggest names in Hollywood. For now, he is happy to call LSU and Louisiana home.

Tiffany O'Neil, a Southern University undergrad student with fiancé, Nathan Prince, and dog, Mickey in their home. Photograph by Tabitha Austin

What’s in a marriage?

Sociologist Andrew Cherlin calls it “the capstone experience” of one’s life. LSU graduate instructor Jensen Jeung argues that “much of how we conceptualize marriage and families are social constructions … we create the meanings.”

We have created many meanings. Within marriage we find pageantry, genealogical associations and the like. But if we take a holistic approach, we find something more.

Life is change in motion. Time would stop without change. People change, as do the bonds between them. The institution of marriage is the interaction of these adaptations. Its meaning is a moving target, complex and variable, much like those who find themselves in its throes.

Looking Back

To unwrap the meaning of marriage, it’s important to know where it came from. History tells us the earliest humans married out of necessity, often banding together with other tribes and even intermarrying to strengthen their chance of survival. We still have the same basic needs, but surviving today has become a more complicated affair.

Jeung often teaches from Cherlin’s book, “Public and Private Families,” which depicts the 20th century as a major turning point for the institution of marriage.

As technology improved through the early 1900s, so did our need to flock to it. We saw a cultural shift from rural to urban areas. Industrial capitalism promised a more automated lifestyle. The ensuing improvements to an electronic society made life more convenient, and we began considering marriage differently, down to its fundamentals.

Jeung says the emphasis used to be placed on male authority, with strict conformity to social norms. Romantic love was not as important, and one certainly saved sex for marriage, as it was seen only as a means of producing children. Males were the heads of the households, and women were submissive. If one was unmarried, he or she may have been viewed as “defective” or living an incomplete life.

The 1950s ushered the baby boomer generation to the peak of the self-explanatory “breadwinner-homemaker” model. The ones you see from “The Golden Age of Television.” Automobiles were mass-produced, people started moving around and the courtship process expanded to include dating. Teenagers became more susceptible to premarital sex as they found more freedom from their parents, Jeung says.

Harsh Dissanayake, chemical engineering undergrad, uses Skype to stay in touch with his fiancée. Photograph by Tabitha Austin

Modern Marriage

“Public and Private Families” tells us when these teens grew up, so did the concept of marriage. The new “companionate marriages” placed greater “emphasis on affection, friendship and sexual gratification. Every parent thereafter was raised in the dating system, which became less connected to marriage through the 70s.”

Women more frequently pursued their educations, tilting the balance of gender power in their favor. An increase in pre-marital cohabitation, in tandem with women entering the workforce by the droves, caused both marriage and divorce rates to rise. It also served as catalyst for the upheaval of the traditional marriage construct, Jeung says.

Today’s “individualized marriage” focuses on self-development, flexible roles and open communication. This can reveal life paths previously impossible when considering the potential of the Internet’s intricately-woven human network. Partners may even skip the marriage process entirely, opting for a “union” or simply cohabitating. Why do people still marry at all?

The Free & The Brave

There must be some reason. According to Cherlin, 90 percent of Americans still tie the knot. Formalizing the link with a ring, he notes, lessens the fear of abandonment and permits enforceable trust.

Today, it’s become common for both spouses to have jobs. This “dual-income earning” model allows couples to pool their resources, an option that requires boundless faith and trust, but one Jeung says is all but necessary to sustain a family at the high cost of living comfortably.

Bethany Berry acknowledges this within the context of her arranged marriage, but doesn’t find it the only route to a healthy, successful relationship. Berry is a 30-year-old University of Houston graduate of Nigerian descent with a degree in special needs/deaf education. She’s planning for graduate school at LSU to concentrate on religious studies. She’s 21 years younger than her Caucasian husband, whom she didn’t meet until their marriage.

Berry was Muslim at the time they were married. Her husband was Christian. She felt an arranged marriage “was the only way to go,” as do many women within Islam. Berry converted to Hinduism afterward. She says the change caused some grief around the holidays, but likens the change to a face-lift, where the spouse may “get used to the new person you’ve become. It allows you to explore new dimensions of each other’s self.”

Berry is a staunch supporter of the breadwinner-homemaker model. She works at Jimmy John’s, a sandwich chain on Perkins Road.

“In my marriage, I’m the only one working and my husband stays at home. I would prefer it to be me staying at home, but right now the economy favors women working more so than men.” Berry’s husband, Matt, was laid off three days after Christmas, “so we just decided to change roles,” she says.

Alex Romero, fashion merchandising junior, expresses that marriage has become a grey area in society. Photograph by Tabitha Austin

Alex Romero is a fashion merchandising junior at LSU with another flexible perspective. “I think even traditional marriage has lost its way,” Romero says. He finds TV shows are good signifier of modern culture and sees some disquieting trends among them.

“It should be a covenant between a man and his wife, but now you have marriage shows where they compete to throw the most lavish wedding,” he says with concern. “Where are the values in that?”

Romero spoke further on parental roles within modern gay marriages, saying, “I know there is a lack of a mother/father figure in a gay couple household, but that isn’t to say that a gay couple cannot raise beautiful children who will make a difference in this world.” Romero said. “It’s all about the values one has to pass on to their children that makes the difference and what they teach their kids.”

Berry and Romero aren’t the only ones with unique takes.

Tiffany O’Neill knows what it’s like to be different. The 19-year-old Southern University student is daughter to a black mother and white father. She is currently engaged to Nathan Prince, a Caucasian graduate student at LSU. Her parents’ mixed marriage continues to help lay the foundation for her own, and their warmth cannot be overstated for a couple who anticipates a frigid reception from others.

“It was a fight for them to even get married,” O’Neill said of her mom and dad. “No one told them what it was going to be like. It was special for us to know we could call someone who went through a similar experience. Love is supposed to be so simple – the purest and simplest thing we have – and it’s a shame when people have to fight about wanting to love each other,” O’Neill said.

Cherlin discusses cohabitation before marriage in his book, a decision it says can raise the chances of a pre-marital break-up. O’Neill understands the risk involved and remains assertive in her commitment to what marriage represents.

“No matter the good or bad times, rich or poor, if you’re going to marry someone, that person becomes your number one,” O’Neill said.

For others, marriage is a spiritual rite, bearing the fruit of a meticulous group effort. Harsha Dissanayake, a 22 year-old from Sri Lanka is studying chemical engineering at LSU while his fiancée Dhanushya Amaratunga remains at medical school in Sri Lanka, a predominantly Buddhist society. The two hope to marry and cohabitate after graduating.

“Back in the day,” Harsha recalls, “the parents pretty much decided everything. They’d talk with the girl’s parents and look at the astrological side of the relationship. How can they relate here, you know? How do they match up?”

While the groom-to-be says couples today enjoy greater autonomy in the decision making process, he faithfully seeks his parents’ counsel because “they’ve gone through it all, and they know what it takes to work long-term.”

Getting hitched may have health benefits, too. As reported in recent literature, Jeung tells us, being married causes people to feel better and live longer.

“Sure, at first it may be based on physical attraction, but after several decades, you’re left with what’s inside. What do you see?” Harsha rhetorically asks. “People need to get their reasons right.”

We may all be in different situations, but our ideas may overlap. If O’Neill really is right, and love really is supposed to be simple, Berry may have found it in abundance.

“At the end of the day, I can come home and I have a nice face that is happy to see me and is interested in knowing what I did during the day. It’s nice to know that someone cares what goes on in my life and what happens. And living with them is a plus,” Berry says.

I Now Pronounce You…

At times we forget marriage wasn’t always like it is today. There are also no guarantees it will stay like this forever. We must not view this evolution of marriage as a digression. It’s just a change, a reflection of our mercurial culture. Sometimes we don’t recognize the changes right away. The point is to not pigeonhole ourselves into a certain rationale toward marriage, as history shows us its fluid nature.

As life paths open for us, we’re encouraged to become our own people. Time only moves forward and gracefully carries those most adaptive to its subtle contours. If we can do that, and be honest with who we are, Jeung concludes, we may find today’s individualized marriage creates the possibility of a fuller life and a more equal partnership for both spouses.

Photograph courtesy of Darrell Bezet.

A 54-year-old man rolls around on the red bricks in front of the glass of Mike the Tiger’s habitat. He ignores the smudges that appear on his khaki slacks from the water leaking out of Mike’s pond. Mike VI, the Bengal-Siberian mix that resides on LSU’s campus, watches from atop a rock near his pool.

Mike’s regal head leans toward the ground as he stalks forward. Mike watches as the man wobbles precariously, steadied slightly by the use of a black cane. His eyes follow him around one of the habitat’s pillars as he disappears from sight. The tiger’s head drops another couple of inches as he lifts his paws to move closer and closer to this man.

Suddenly, Mike runs and leaps as the man peers around the next pillar, jumping and pawing at the net that confines him.

“That’s my buddy! I love you, too! That’s my buddy!” the man shouts, giggling loudly and pawing right back at Mike.

Darrell Bezet is not a shy man. This is the kind of guy who calls everyone “bay” and keeps cat food in his car for strays he sees at gas stations. Accessorized by a thatch of thinning brown hair, dark Ray-Ban sunglasses, a downward curving mustache and that ever-present black cane, Bezet proudly displays a shirt his sister-in-law made for him. Embroidered in gold thread, the black shirt designates him “Darrell, Tiger Whisperer.”

Made famous on campus through YouTube and word-of-mouth, Bezet is an early-morning staple at Mike’s habitat.

“I say he’s my tiger and I just let LSU take care of him,” Bezet says as he circles the habitat. “I try to come every day … I was sick for three days … I had Mike withdrawals. I finally made it here on the third day, and he was so ecstatic. He was like, ‘Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you.’ And I felt the same way.”

Bezet came to see Mike for the first time about a year ago — a time he recalls as especially difficult. After getting in “a stupid little fender bender wreck,” Bezet began feeling pain throughout his body. A doctor soon discovered a four-inch long bone spur threatening to sever Bezet’s spinal cord.

“I worked in nursing [and] took care of quadriplegics. And I thought, ‘Oh my God, there’s no good deed goes unpunished. Since I cared for quadriplegics, now I’m going to be one,’’’ Bezet recalls. He was living alone and in constant pain when Bezet says he had a life-changing experience.

Mike VI responds to Darrell's commands as much as any domestic house cat would. Photograph by Erin Arledge

“I was home praying, just praying and praying and a voice spoke to my heart … the voice said, ‘Come on, we have to go now,’” Bezet says. That voice, which he recognizes as “when the Lord spoke,” directed him to immediately leave his one bedroom shotgun home in Spanish Town — where he still lives with three of his own cats. When he drove away Bezet “didn’t know where [he] was going” but soon found himself on Nicholson Drive.

“I thought, ‘Well, Lord, there’s nothing here but Mike the Tiger,’ and he said, ‘That’s right, that’s where we’re going,’” Bezet explains. So he pulled his white Lincoln Towncar into the lot by Mike’s habitat, and there was the tiger — waiting.

A corrective surgery took care of the bone spur, but Bezet continues to live in constant pain due to other health issues, which causes him to take narcotic medication daily. He altered how he takes his medication so he is able to play with Mike every morning.

“Mike is such a blessing, and I know with all my heart he is a gift from God,” Bezet will say to anyone who will listen, and lots of people have. Though Mike has other loyal friends who visit as often as Bezet does, Bezet is quick to say that he knows he’s “number one on [Mike’s] list.”

Bezet has made other new friends in his visits to Mike, even from outside the state. One woman, a gospel singer from Florida, heard Bezet’s story. She saw videos on YouTube of the connection between the two friends and drove all the way to the University to see Bezet in action. She shared her own story with Bezet before returning home to Florida.

“She was telling me about how she was left behind a house in a basket under a tree. I just looked at her and said, ‘God leaves some of his most precious gifts in broken vessels,’” Bezet remembers fondly. “Tears were just streaming down her face because I touched her so much.”

Darlene Woodford, a Baton Rouge resident who met Bezet at Mike’s habitat, has become an avid fan as well.

“This tiger just relates to him so well. Mike knows his car. It’s like therapy for [Bezet]. It’s not a bad thing for the tiger,” Woodford says. “One time he came in the afternoon, and that’s when Mike sleeps in the corner. There were people in the corner calling and as soon as [Bezet said], ‘Hey buddy,’ boom! He’s right up.”

Most people, like Woodford, have usually responded well to Bezet’s visits, Bezet says. When he arrives, shouting and pawing at the glass toward Mike, crowds will usually form.

On Friday, February 19 Darrell Bezet comes as close as he ever will to petting his best friend Mike VI. Photograph by Erin Arledge

“It’s almost like a circus act, and that’s not what I want. It’s about Mike loving me,” Bezet says. “I tell everybody when they come out here and they see me playing with him. I encourage them, just talk to him. I say, ‘You’ve got to talk to him.’ He understands more than you realize.”

Mike certainly does understand Bezet. On a recent afternoon, Bezet instructed Mike to bite his toy tire, and Mike grabbed it with his teeth, tearing and biting. Bezet then asked him how high he could climb, and Mike pattered over to the center support pole to climb and jump upon it. Other visitors stood nearby in wonder, snapping photos on their cameras.

“I believe Mike has a great personality, as in people. Animals all have different personalities, and Mike just has a great personality,” Bezet says.

However, the young tiger’s personality is expected to change as he ages.

“Mike is going to be five in July,” Woodford says. “When he gets to be five, he may not be as playful, but really he’s just been adorable. Like [Bezet] says, well, we’ll see.”

Dr. David Baker, director and professor of the division of laboratory animal science at the University School of Veterinary Medicine, is in charge of Mike’s care. Dr. Baker has told many of Mike’s friends that Mike will probably be less playful as he ages.

Bezet staunchly contends Mike “will always love” him.

“All I can say,” wrote Dr. Baker in an email, “is that nobody, including Mike, can have too many friends.”

TIGER WHISPERER VIDEO

TIGER WHISPERER PHOTO SLIDESHOW >>

Caitlyn and Marlee ponder the menu looking for the perfect dish. Photograph by Sahir Khan

Imagine never having contact with anyone besides your parent or guardian in your entire lifetime. For half of all intellectually handicapped people, this is a harsh reality. Caitlyn Louviere and the LSU chapter of Best Buddies are working to eliminate this reality.

Louviere serves as president of the University’s chapter of Best Buddies, an international program dedicated to providing one-on-one friendships between members of the community and locals with intellectual and developmental disabilities.

The organization was started in 1989 by Anthony Kennedy Shriver in an effort to improve living conditions for the intellectually disabled. According to its Web site, Best Buddies has an impact on about 400,000 individuals a year. Louviere took over the presidency of the LSU chapter a year ago, revamping the club from a small organization that only had six to eight matched buddies to a force in the community that boasts about 48 matched buddies.

“It’s funny because I never thought the club would be my life, but it has, and it’s a great thing,” Louviere said. Louviere first met her buddy Marlee Richterman at one of the club’s match parties, where college buddies meet their intellectually disabled buddy for the first time. Since their meeting, Louviere and Marlee have kept up a now two-year long relationship that Louviere says is “just like any real friendship.”

Once college buddies get matched with a handicapped buddy, they are required to meet up with their buddy twice a month, and call them once a week. The friendships between buddies usually grow beyond the minimum requirements, Louviere said. “It’s really cool when [college buddies] are proud of what their buddy has accomplished.”

“The handicapped buddies develop social skills to be treated as equals when they are friends with people that don’t have disabilities … when you combine the two, they learn so much from each other,” said Tiffany Rutledge, state director of Best Buddies Louisiana.

Marlee and Louviere often go out to eat, watch movies, communicate through Facebook and speak over the phone every night. “She just makes me happier – I don’t know where I’d be without her,” said Louviere. Marlee’s mother and doctors are unsure of what exactly Marlee’s condition is, but Louviere says her condition doesn’t prevent her from doing what she wants in life. “[The handicapped buddies] have something special about them just like everyone else does, and they may not be as good in other areas, but then, neither am I.”

Just like any other friendship, Marlee and Louviere’s has its ups and downs. When she first met Marlee, the biggest obstacle to overcome was Marlee’s naturally introverted nature, and Louviere initially found it hard to get Marlee to open up to her. “I realized that she really wanted to open up to me when her primary care doctor she knew since birth had died, and she called me crying,” Louviere said. Marlee’s mother apologized to Louviere, thinking Marlee had perhaps startled her, but said Marlee had only wanted to talk to Louviere about her grief.

“One thing I realized is that [Best Buddies] breaks [intellectually handicapped people] out of their shell,” Louviere said. Besides the club’s monthly meetings, Best Buddies also organizes special events such as a prom, a Valentine’s Day party, a Halloween party and the annual fundraiser Midnight Madness, a mission-based challenge in which buddies and chapter members complete tasks to raise money. Marlee doesn’t always socialize with the other buddies, but Louviere says she loves to dance and the Best Buddies prom helped Marlee interact and connect with the others in the group.

The most important aspect of the mentally handicapped community is that they are just like everyone else, Louviere said. “The biggest problem [facing the mentally handicapped community] is that people are afraid to interact with them. For the most part, it isn’t that people are trying to disrespect them. They’re just uncomfortable and don’t know what to say. The reality is that [the mentally handicapped] want to be treated like everyone else. They want to have the same conversations, they want to pay at the cash register at the grocery store, they don’t want people to finish their sentences when they stutter – they want to be independent.”

Lori Moore, program supervisor of Best Buddies Louisiana, stresses breaking down preconceived notions people may have about the mentally handicapped community.

Caitlyn and Marlee at a Best Buddies picnic on the LSU Parade Ground in November. Photograph courtesy of Caitlyn Louviere

“There’s such a stigma [about mentally handicapped people], and [Best Buddies] is trying to break down that barrier,” she said. Moore says mentally handicapped people are typically babied or treated like they aren’t capable of understanding or completing a task. “It’s not OK [to treat them differently]. The only way to learn social skills is to be treated as equals.”

Best Buddies retains a strict one-on-one policy between buddies, and buddies are supposed to get a new buddy at the beginning of every year. When she took over the club presidency, Louviere was unaware of the policy and has been Marlee’s buddy for two years. She, along with other club members who have maintained two-year relationships with their buddies, isn’t excited about the prospect of switching buddies after becoming so close with the buddy she knows so well. “Some buddies are really friendly and open up easily, but I worry about Marlee and buddies like Marlee. I’m worried about her going back into her shell.”

Maintaining the relationship with a handicapped buddy is not always easy for a college student. Louviere says the busy college schedule causes members to cancel with their buddies indefinitely, sometimes without telling Louviere.

“A lot of college kids get busy and have to tell me that they have to drop their buddy, but sometimes they don’t even let me know. I sat down and called all the buddies’ parents, and some of them hadn’t even met with their buddy more than once. What I try to reinforce is to say that it’s volunteer work – this isn’t a house or a vegetable garden; these are real people,” Louviere said.

Louviere plans to maintain her relationship with Marlee even after they switch buddies because Marlee helps keep Louviere grounded. “As a pre-med student at LSU, I’m a worry-wart and I sometimes call Marlee, and when she asks what’s wrong, and I say that I’m tired, she responds, ‘Hi Tired, I’m Marlee,’ and right away I start feeling better.”

After graduation, Louviere plans to attend medical school in New Orleans, but knows this will be harder to see Marlee as much as she does now. In the meantime, Louviere knows Marlee has changed her entire college experience for the better.

“Best Buddies in general has changed my perspective,” Louviere said. “I never looked down on people with disabilities, but I never saw them as able. [Best Buddies] has allowed me to see how very able they actually are.”

Cheryl Sherman discusses a day in the life at Ambrosia Bakery. Photo by Robert Giglio.

Cheryl Sherman stands proudly next to a gleaming case filled with trophies, the results of 17 years of hard work. She holds court at Ambrosia Bakery, a veritable bakery palace that produces some of the most beautiful and elaborate cakes in the country.

Cheryl, a certified cake decorator, and her husband Felix Sherman opened Ambrosia as a tiny 1,200 square foot bakery in 1993. Now it has grown to an 8,200 square foot bakery on Siegan Lane. Cheryl began decorating cakes in the 1980s and now oversees the wedding cake portion of the bakery.

Wedding cakes are given special care at Ambrosia, where the cakes can take on almost any form the customer can imagine, with beautifully painted flowers, pearls, ribbons, sparkles and an almost limitless supply of icing and cake. Cheryl even attended a national cake convention, sitting on a panel that included representatives such as Carlos, the star of the TV show ‘Ace of Cakes.’

“We can do anything a bride wants – [but] people in the South are more traditional,” Cheryl said.

Beginning with a process that includes the baking, layering and frosting of the cakes, wedding cakes can take anywhere from a day to a week to produce. Each wedding cake is hand-decorated and can range in price from $800 to $3,000, depending on the amount of decorating and fondant, a type of sheeted icing, used on the cakes. “We’re working on a cake right now for a bride in New Orleans that will easily run her about $3,000,” Cheryl said.

Photo by Robert Giglio.

Each wedding cake is made from scratch, and all require an entire team of bakers, layer stackers and decorators to produce the sugary masterpieces. Stepping into the kitchen is like walking into a Wonka factory wonderland of cake, icing and sugar. The sweet smell of freshly baked cake wafts through the room, and everyone busily spreads icing, pipes fruit-flavored filling or precisely measures where the next cake layer should go.

“We just put so much detail and attention into the cakes,” Cheryl said. She and the other decorators at Ambrosia have created cakes decorated with almost anything a customer can imagine, including ribbons, pearls, polka dots, figurines and flowers. Ambrosia has also created wedding cakes made of multiple smaller cakes, cupcakes or king cakes, and offers a variety of flavors from plain vanilla to pineapple.

Ambrosia takes orders for cakes six months to a year and a half in advance because of the high demand.“We can do anything in a cake, but we’re not like ‘Ace of Cakes.’ Some of our cakes are hand-painted, and ‘Ace of Cakes’ doesn’t even do that,” Cheryl said assuredly.

Though they maintain a more traditional rep, it’s apparent the cake makers at Ambrosia are capable of making any kind of cake, including a large E.T. cake stored in the walk-in refrigerator and a recent groom’s cake that was an exact replica of a fishing camp.

“I mean, if someone wants a cake in the $3,000 bracket like on ‘Ace of Cakes,’ I can give it to them. We do whatever the customer wants,” Cheryl said proudly.

An E.T.-shaped cake awaits delivery at Ambrosia Bakery. Photo by Robert Giglio.

Cheryl has entire books full of pictures of truly amazing cakes, including Tiger Stadium, a crawfish pot and a statue of Lady Justice. Some of the most creatively constructed cakes are the groom’s cakes, many of which have to have PVC pipes and dowel rods for support.

“As with any bakery, there’s always the potential for mistakes,” Cheryl said. “Of course, we make mistakes and have accidents, but it’s all about how you recover from them and handle them that prevents a disaster.”

She said with utmost confidence that mistakes are very rare because they work so closely with their customers. “I draw out the designs well before we start making the cakes. We’re very hands on and always make sure we get it right.”

Click here to see a slideshow of photos from this story. >>