A Tribute to Rosie O'Donnell, One of the Great Big-Mouth Broads
A trailblazer for the marginalized.

Rosie’s been on my mind a lot lately.
It all started when one of her reels appeared in my YouTube algorithm. I almost didn’t recognize her. She looked a little gaunt and there was a deep sadness about her, a far cry from the larger-than-life brash character I’d seen so many times before on movies and TV shows.
Through constant media persecution and mental health challenges, Rosie stood strong, a beacon for feminism, for the LGBTQ+ community, and for women in general. She opened her beautiful big mouth, calling out ideologies and the people behind them, polarizing communities and not caring one bit about the fallout of what she had to say. I’ve always respected her for that.
When I moved briefly to Texas many years ago, the right-wingers hated her. She found herself in the same esteemed company as Jane Fonda and The Chicks. As I knew the story of The Chicks very well and have since learned the reason for such hostility toward Jane Fonda, it made me love her even more. If the far-right nut-jobs hated her, it meant she was my ally, she was my kinda gal.
Rosie has also been very vocal about issues that I wholeheartedly support: the need for gun control, the issues of radicalization within Christianity, the prevalence of sexual abuse within the Catholic Church, and the horrors of Trump and his regime. She is pro-choice and spotlights homophobia, so in my opinion, she angers all the right people. She has also raised obscene amounts of money for children’s charities, not only in the US but also abroad, and was included in Time magazine’s 100 Most Influential People in May 2007.
I’m not going to claim that I have been a die-hard Rosie O’Donnell fan for the expanse of her extensive career. I haven’t watched every movie, show, or episode that she’s been in. I haven’t followed every aspect of her life, haven’t read every article or pored over every scandal, but I’ve admired her for some time.
The Characters
It is in the roles that Rosie chose, the characters she played that I have found happiness and joy.
Sleepless in Seattle is one of my all-time favourite movies, made just that bit better with Rosie in it. I still sing along to many of her Christmas Duets, loudly belting out Gonna Eat For Christmas with Gloria Estefan and grooving to Ay, Ay, Ay, It’s Christmas with Ricky Martin. Her terrible, possibly on purpose, Spanish accent as she laments about getting nothing for the holiday puts a smile on my dial every time and is one of my Yuletide favourites.
Recently, I binge-watched Bomb Girls, a superb Canadian series set during the Second World War. Imagine my surprise and delight when Rosie sauntered on in for one episode as Dottie Shannon, an astute matter-of-fact reporter. As she appeared on my screen with the gusto and bravado she’s known for, a broad smile lit up my face and I was glued to the screen as she encouraged one of the female leads to stand in her power.
Her portrayal as Beth Simon, a woman with a developmental disability, in Riding the Bus with My Sister made me extremely uncomfortable, but her masterful performance in showing Beth’s vulnerability had me empathizing with her by the end of the movie.
While I enjoyed all of these roles, it has been Rosie’s honest performances of lesbian women that have given me the most joy. I would wager that they have impacted many LGBTQ+ folks struggling to find positive role models in societies where we are often demonized.
When Jack opened the door to Rosie’s face as Bonnie, the mother of his inseminated child on Will & Grace, my eyes lit up. Her no-nonsense, “Jack MacFarlane, I’m gonna kick your sorry ass,” in that strong New York accent made me settle a little deeper into my seat. I knew then that it was going to be a good episode.
No-nonsense Doris Murphy in A League of Their Own made me laugh as she tried to keep the girls’ spirits high, after trying to take them down a peg or two first, of course. She later guest starred in the TV series remake as Vi, the suit-wearing owner and bartender of an underground gay bar, giving gays and lesbians in the 1940s a place to be themselves.
Being a huge fan of The L Word, imagine my happiness when the show returned ten years later, rebooted as The L Word: Generation Q. Rosie’s portrayal of insecure Carrie, Tina’s long-term girlfriend, touched me. Feeling firmly in the shadow of her girlfriend’s ex, the irrepressible Bette, it was devastating to watch Carrie desperately trying to gain the respect of a woman who ran over her like a steamroller.
Although I watched Sex and The City when it first came out, I never resonated with the show. How could I? A young lesbian in conservative South Africa who had no interest in sleeping around with men or in high-heeled shoes? I didn’t even know what a cosmopolitan was, and as such, my ability to connect with the characters was non-existent. I did, however, love Miranda Hobbes, so imagine my delight when the show returned almost two decades later under a new title, And Just Like That…, with Miranda exploring her new-found queer identity. Menopausal, trying to navigate a changing world and a lesbian? Now I could relate.
Enter Rosie. For one glorious episode, she appeared as Mary, an overly excited tourist in The Big Apple, hoping to have a tryst. Hanging out in a gay bar and subsequently going home with Miranda for a night of passion, it was only after their steamy evening that she admitted to being a nun looking to lose her virginity, sending Miranda into a crisis of conscience. Again, another spectacular performance by the fabulous Ms. O’Donnell.
Back to the algorithm
Characters aside, Rosie’s mouth is one of the things that I respect most about her. As she found her way into my YouTube algorithm, a recent interview with Chris Cuomo popped up on my screen. I know nothing about the man, and quite frankly, based on his manner and some veiled comments, I don’t really want to, but I was struck by Rosie’s appearance and demeanour.
Having recently moved to Dublin, Ireland to protect her autistic child as well as her own mental health, Rosie’s looking weary. I can still hear the passion in her words, but I can also see the sadness in her eyes. I understand this, deeply. I, too, am weary. Something touched me profoundly.
The fight is hard to sustain when you’ve spent decades fighting. Women spend most of their lives fighting the patriarchy, even in ways we don’t realize. Queer women become warriors. Queer women in the media become legends.
A big-mouth broad with strong opinions, Rosie is a legend.
There are ten years and an ocean between Rosie and me, but I recognize it all. The fight, the passion, the weariness, and the sadness.
Maybe, what drew me to her in that moment was one simple thing; Rosie is now an immigrant. Her father is Irish, and although mine was British, my grandfather was Irish. Whether the heritage exists or not, we are still immigrants to new lands. While I have been one for over two decades, I saw an allegiance in Rosie - a new fight, and believe me, heritage or not, being an immigrant is challenging regardless of where you go.
There is a visible vulnerability to her now, connecting me to a woman I have never met. Another queer immigrant warrior. Until you’ve become one, you’ll never truly appreciate the tightrope we walk daily.
Rosie, if you ever read this, know that there are people who understand, who see you, who applaud you, who will fight with you. The little girls who were called opinionated and became beautiful, strong, big-mouth broads. The world needs more big-mouth broads!
We see you. We thank you. We love you.
Please feel free to buy me a coffee if you like what you read.