Month: October 2009

career, change, choices, relationships

My Year of Hopefulness – Standing on the Hinge

Christa Avampato

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” ~ Victor Frankl

I just finished the book Here If You Need Me, a brilliant memoir by Kate Braestrup. Kate is a writer who became a minster shortly after her husband’s death. Being a minister wasn’t her dream; it was her late husband’s dream and because he didn’t get the chance to achieve that, she offered up her own vocation for him. She is the chaplain to the game wardens of Maine, the group of brave public servants who conduct searches for people who are lost in the deep Maine woods, the person who falls through the ice, the hiker who ventures too far for too long. Their work can be dangerous and frequently ends with a tragic discovery. They need a good chaplain and they have a superb one in Kate.

The book is a fast, inspiring read. Of all the anecdotes that stand out in my mind, the most vivid in my mind is her description of her job as standing on the hinge of life. Kate is the one who waits with the families as the game wardens search for their loved ones that are lost or missing. She counsels the wardens after tragic circumstances are discovered. She stands with them in these uncomfortable, difficult moments that will come to define their lives. These are the moments that define their befores and afters.

All through the book I kept thinking about this metaphor, this hinge of life. I kept thinking about how many hinges I’ve been on lately. These moments that define my own befores and afters. Each one presents an opportunity for choice – we get to choose our attitude, our way forward, our outlook, and the learnings we take away from each experience.

September 2009 could have left a very deep scar on my heart. Instead, I had to make it a time of great learning and exploration. I had to make those days count by allowing them to teach me what’s truly important to me. They became a time of great commitment for me. Instead of being wracked by fear, I realized that I had nothing to fear because I knew I would be fine no matter what happened from here on out. I survived the perfect storm.

September was one big hinge for me and gave me the chance to recognize quite literally that the important things in life aren’t things. It taught me that I want very deep, meaningful relationships to be the core of my life. I set myself on a course to eventually write full-time. New York most certainly became my long-time home. On October 1st, I knew with certainty what I wanted from my life with a clarity I’ve never had before. And it feels great.

Hinges are difficult. They are filled with great expectations and great hesitancy. They are points of no turning back. Unless we’re people like Kate, we only get a few opportunities to stand at the hinge of our own lives. Life doesn’t offer up learnings and choices of that type of poignancy every day. And thank goodness because they can be incredibly stressful times. Though when we get the chance to stand at the edge of our lives and decide in a very profound way who we are and who we mean to be, it’s an opportunity we should approach with a grateful and open heart. After all, we will not be able to pass this way again.

children, health, healthcare, nonprofit, philanthropy

My Year of Hopefulness – Children’s Health Fund

Christa Avampato

Tonight my friend and colleague, Wayne, took me to the annual meeting for Children’s Health Fund (CHF). Knowing my interest in and past experience with nonprofit organizations, he knew I would be interested. What he didn’t know, and frankly what I didn’t know, is that CHF would be a perfect match for my interests on a variety of levels.

Personally and professionally, the mission of CHF to provide and advocate for quality medical care for every child resonates with me. Due to a drastic change in my family situation when I was a young child, my family lived below the poverty line and without health care for a good number of years. As an undergraduate, I did my senior economics thesis on the quality of healthcare for children below the poverty line living in West Philadelphia; the paper was based on my work-study job assisting one of the lead pediatricians at Children’s Seashore House (now a part of The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia). Additionally, I am considering the Public and Urban Policy PhD program at The New School because of my growing interest in inner-city education, and inner-city education requires caring for the whole child, healthcare included. There are certain points in our lives when the stars perfectly align, and tonight felt like one of those nights.

I had the great honor of hearing Karen Redlener, the Executive Director, and her talented staff speak about the 2008 accomplishments of CHF. 70,000 children received medical care through 210,000 patient visits and 613 medical professional received training through CHF’s programs in 25 cities across the country. In a time when so many organizations, for-profit and non-profit, are pulling back and remaining cautious, CHF is stepping up their game.

Jane Pauley, one of CHF’s dedicated board members and someone I greatly admire, explained why CHF is continuing to push forward and grow their goals as opposed to cutting back. In this recession, fear is everywhere. And while it might at first seem inconceivable that any organization could maintain their funding during this recession much less grow it, CHF keeps looking up and reaching higher.

Why, you ask? The sound barrier. Jane Pauley told the story of the first pilot to break the sound barrier. Previously, when pilots came up against the intense shaking caused by approaching speeds close to the sound barrier, they would pull the throttle back. A fatal mistake. Chuck Yeager did something different – when his plane approached the sound barrier, shaking badly, he pushed the throttle forward, went faster, and broke the sound barrier altogether. He is literal proof that if we press on, despite adversity, there are great rewards to be had when we come out the other side. CHF and Chuck Yeager are of the same mind.

Healthcare has been front page news every day this week; it’s been at the top of the Obama agenda for months; it was a major issue in the 2008 Presidential campaign. This is healthcare’s moment; this is CHF’s moment. For over 20 years, Irwin Redlener and Paul Simon, the co-founders, along with their dedicated, passionate team have been working tirelessly on behalf of children and their right to quality healthcare. The debates are raging on Capitol Hill and across this country. The plane is shaking, and we cannot pull the throttle back. We are so close to breaking through, so close to having quality, affordable care for every American. CHF is continuing to stand its ground with dignity and grace, fortified by the simple belief that all children everywhere have a right to be healthy.

We need them to succeed in this mission. By the end of 2009, 1:5 children in the U.S. will be below the poverty line. 1:5. Of all the facts and figures we review every day, that might be the scariest I’ve heard. We can’t afford to have 20% of our nation’s children grow up poor and unhealthy. Think the healthcare of others isn’t your problem? Think again. Their future is our future. And they need us. All of us. Someone has to stand up for them if we are to have any hope at all in the future of our nation. CHF is giving it everything they’ve got, and they need more. They need us. To find out how you can help, visit the Children’s Heath Fund website.

government, healthcare, hope

My Year of Hopefulness – The Healthcare Future I’d Like to See

Christa Avampato

Yesterday was my first visit to my new general practitioner. My doctor retired about a year ago and I wasn’t crazy about him anyway so I needed to find a new one. A friend of mine referred me to his doctor. The wait for an appointment with him was a bit long, though my friend assured me that he was the best. I can wait a bit for the best.

I went in to get my annual physical and to have my breathing checked. (The Red Cross had mentioned to me that after the apartment building fire, I should have my lungs checked just to make sure that everything is clear.) I expected to be in the waiting room for about 30 minutes for a routine physical that included about 5 minutes with the doctor. Instead, my doctor picked me up in the waiting room, exactly at my appointment time, with an extended hand and a smile. We spoke for about 20 minutes as he put my medical history into his computer in his office. I had the opportunity to ask him questions and tell him about any health concerns I have.

Then we went to a room that adjoined his office where he measured my weight, height, blood pressure, etc. He checked my breathing, my internal organs, and gave me my flu shot. The doctor. I will be the first person to stand up for nurses and say that they are underpaid, under appreciated, and overworked. And I will also say that it was very refreshing to have a doctor performing the mundane tasks of a check-up.

I told him about my upcoming trip to Costa Rica to make sure I didn’t need any additional vaccines. Turns out that he volunteered in the hospital in the center of the small town where I will be volunteering. What are the odds? He gave me a name of a restaurant his friend owns that I should visit, told me about a few museums and a theatre I should go to, and gave me the contact info for a nearby spa and beach that are also worth checking out. Then he handed me a card with his cell number and email address and told me that I should contact him at any time with any questions or concerns I have. “And please let me know how the trip goes,” he said. And he meant it. I thought I stepped into a healthcare time warp. A doctor was actually taking his time and showing concern and compassion for me as a person, not just me as a patient.

This gives me great hope for healthcare. This is proof that it is possible to deliver quality, empathic care, even for procedures like routine physicals. I recognize that I am one of the fortunate people in this country to have high-quality health insurance and access to top care. What I didn’t realize is that it is still possible in this day and age to deliver care with great concern.

Too often we are held at a distance from our medical doctors. We are seen as case studies and medical files and a combination of numbers and statistics. My doctor’s visit was different. It was compassionate and delivered with real care for the whole person. In other words, it’s exactly what medical delivery should be, not just in this country for those with a high income, but for everyone, everywhere.

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

dreams, failure, friendship, mistakes, success

My Year of Hopefulness – The Blessing of Mistakes

Christa Avampato

“A man of genius makes no mistakes. His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery.” ~ James Joyce, Irish novelist, from Ulysses

The passing of time can be a frustrating thing. We may spend time on one activity that leads us to a dead-end when we could have spent that time on something that would have lead us to a success. It’s easy to become overwhelmed by how many ways we have to spend our time; so many in fact that we might feel that no matter how much we love what we’re doing, we could always be doing something that would make us even happier. The odd paradox of choice, as Barry Schwartz calls it. Too many opportunities leads us to too many opportunity costs. These increased opportunity costs are beginning to effect the way we view failure and mistakes.

Rather than valuable learning tools, we might be tempted to view them as a waste of time. Why should I try and fail and learn when there are so many other things I could be trying and possibly succeeding at? And yet we know that failure is a part of this life. We have to fail. We have to stretch ourselves well beyond our comfort zones, well beyond even the most optimistic view of our own abilities. If we don’t push our limits and fail, then we’ll never know exactly how much we can achieve. Unrealized achievement that was within our grasp had we pushed a little harder is far worse than failure.

I think about failure a lot. In terms of jobs and relationships and pursuits I’ve considered, even in places where I moved and tried to make a home. Sometimes I feel badly about all my failures, and then I consider so many of my brave friends and family who just refused to let fear stand in their way. My friend, Phyllis, who just today wrote to me and said she left her job to focus on her own business full-time. “I’m secretly scared sh*tless,” she said. “I think that’s probably fairly normal for anyone who quits a well-paying job in this crappy economy.” I agree. And I’m so proud of her and inspired by her actions.

My friend, Allan, has a good paying job, albeit a little boring for him. He had the opportunity to continue with a new assignment there – one he could certainly do if he could just resign himself to not liking the job. Instead, he’s taking a risk and going back to school for a graduate degree in mathematics, his greatest passion.

I have a few friends who are getting married next year. And guess what? They’re all scared, too. They’re afraid of failing, of being hurt, of hurting someone else. They’re afraid of letting other people down, of wasting someone else’s time. They’re afraid they aren’t enough. When I asked them if they really thought this was a good idea, to be getting married, they all said yes unequivocally. “Marriage,” one of them said to me, “is the greatest leap of faith there is. We can be afraid of failure. We just can’t let it prevent us from going after happiness.”

What if we could think of failure as a blessing? What if we could seek out failure as a great teacher? And what if we opened up our hearts and minds and accepted and forgave our own failures and the failures of others, too? Would that kind of acceptance and forgiveness make the failures easier to bear and the successes that much sweeter to earn?

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

art, children, faith, fiction, museum, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Walking with Faith Through Egypt

Christa Avampato

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.” ~ 2 Corinthians 5:7

I went to the Egyptian Galleries today at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I’ve been doing a little bit of fiction writing and needed to collect some research on Egypt. I suppose I could have could just looked it up on-line though it was a gorgeous day, I wanted to walk through the park, and there is not substitute for seeing the treasures of Egypt right in front of us.

The Egyptian Galleries are well-known as one of the favorite attractions for kids to the Met. The fiction piece I’m writing is actually for a young adult audience so I must admit that a little of my motivation was some good eaves dropping. Kids, of course, were fascinated by the mummies. “There’s a dead person in there?” I heard numerous times. Followed invariable by the parents saying “yes” and the kids responding “cool”. (For the record, that was my response in my mind, too.) They also loved the myriad of figurines, depictions of dogs, and all the fancy gold jewelry that literally glowed within the display cases. I easily saw a dozen kids striking a pose that matches the many Egyptian etchings that lined the walls of the galleries. I wanted to do that too, though I knew it wouldn’t be as endearing an act for a 33 year old as it is for a 10 year old, so I held myself back.

To write fiction, we have to hang out with our characters, walk around with them, see the world through their eyes as well as our own. In this action, there are bits of dialogue that surface. We learn about the experiences of our characters the same way we get to know a new friend or someone we’ve just started dating. A little at a time, we learn where they’ve been, what they’ve seen, and where they hope their lives will go. I just walk beside them silently, recording everything.

There’s a lot of faith involved in writing fiction. At the top of a blank page, we’re never quite sure where we’ll end up by the time we reach the bottom of that page. We have to be generous and patient and let the story unfold naturally, taking comfort that it will go exactly the way it’s supposed to. It’s a mystical process.

Our lives are kind of like fiction writing, too. We might have some kind of basic outline for what we’d like to do and where we’d like to go, though the details of how we color in the lines is largely spontaneous. We meet new and interesting characters along the way, we veer off in many different directions, take advantage of one opportunity and then pass on another. We travel, we experience, we remain open to things that are new and strange and beautiful. Yes, the more I think about it, the more I see that living life really is exactly like writing fiction. We fumble around in the dark, not knowing exactly what is in front of us, forging ahead with only the faith and belief that the road we’re on is exactly where we are meant to be. All we must do is be present. The story, and our very lives, will unfold around us.

creativity, education, risk, school

My Year of Hopefulness – A Little Too Comfortable

Christa Avampato

My friend, Alex, is renowned for her cards. I’m not talking about holiday cards or birthday cards. I always have a beautiful envelope show up in my mailbox with her curly handwriting on it when I expect it least and need it most. A new job, a new apartment, a tough time as showcased on this blog. This week I got a card from her that I loved so much I hung it up at my desk at work. It makes me smile every time I look at it.

The quote on the front of the card says, “Friend, you are a divine mingle-mangle of guts and stardust. So hang in there!” It’s a quote from Frank Capra. He also famously said that “A hunch is creativity trying to tell you something.” While on the surface, Alex’s card may just seem like a sweet gesture from a good friend, I also think there’s something else baked into it. She’s really telling me to just get on with it. It’s a message I need to hear, and if anyone can tell me that in a kind, supportive way, it’s Alex.

Tonight I had dinner with my friend, Katie, a fellow Pisces. She mentioned something about Saturn being in Pisces and causing all kinds of havoc. Apparently, the effect is cumulative and ends on October 31st. Essentially this means that universe has been whacking us around for a bit and decided to send Saturn out of our sign with a bang, explaining why just about everything in my life got flipped upside-down in the past month. Now, I’m not quite sure that I believe in astrology to this extent but goodness does it explain a lot!

I’ve also been feeling an increase in energy this last week and feeling the tides of change sweeping in. Before Saturn’s wallop, I was getting too comfy in my daily routine. Everything seemed to be “good enough”. And I’m not a person that can live with “good enough” for too long. I needed to be shaken awake and I have a hard head so it takes quite a bit of effort to change my mind.

To Alex’s point, I need to embrace my inner mingle-mangle of guts and stardust. I needed some new dreams and new drive to reach them. And that requires a little more risk than I’ve been taking lately. It requires a little more bravery than I’ve been exhibiting. Sometimes we need to be on a burning platform (please pardon this pun in light of my burned out apartment building) before we leap into the sea of possibility. So here I go – I hope those adult swimming lessons pay off.

On Tuesday, I’m attending an information session for a PhD program that I’ve been considering and re-considering for some time now. I’ve been putting it off for about a year. I’d sign up for info sessions and not go for one reason or another. One of my business school professors who I respect beyond measure has been encouraging this route since the middle of my second year at Darden. I always thought up a reason why I couldn’t do it. That leap was too scary. Me, a PhD candidate? No, I can’t possibly do that. I don’t have the money / time / attention-span.

Then I remembered a quote I read some time ago about time and the passing of it. “Don’t let the fear of the time it will take to accomplish something stand in the way of your doing it. The time will pass anyway; we might just as well put that passing time to the best possible use.” It’s from Earl Nightingale. My best possible use is in writing, speaking, teaching, traveling and growing social change initiatives. I can’t think of another way to be more productive. And all of these things are made infinitely easier by going the PhD route. Or at least I have a hunch that they are. My creativity is knocking at the door, and I at least need to open the door and give her the opportunity to plead her case. I at least need to hear her out.

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

encouragement, hope, learning, love, relationships

My Year of Hopefulness – Tony

Christa Avampato

“Abundance comes not from stuff. In fact, stuff is an indication of non-abundance. Abundance is in the sacred; it’s in the connection of love. We will find abundance through hard times when we find each other.” ~ Rebecca Adamson

I fell in love with Tony 8 years ago at first sight. To date, it was the most immediate reaction I’ve ever had to anyone. Two and a half years later, after about 1,000 ups and downs, we parted ways romantically, not because we didn’t love each other but because Tony didn’t love himself as much as I loved him.

I rarely talk about my romantic life on this blog, mostly because I keep those relationships extremely private. This one though has taught me so much that I know will help others and so I’m taking a risk here and putting a little more of my heart into my writing than I have ever done. Tony taught me a lot, more than anyone else I’ve ever been in a relationship with, and these lessons should be re-told.

To date, he is the only person who sends me text messages around 4:00am exclusively. I never reach him or hear from him during the day or even at a reasonable hour in the evening. We just don’t work that way. He’s a night owl, a serious night owl. Usually I don’t get his text messages until the morning on my way to work. Last night I happened to be awake when my phone buzzed, and of course it was Tony.

“I’m still not happy in my career. The only difference is that I’m not hating me anymore…just what I let myself lose.” Now, I don’t think he’s referring to me at all when he talks about what he lost. I think he’s talking about time and effort and energy lost to a career he doesn’t like and really never wanted. He just never thought he deserved anything better. By not liking himself for so long, Tony lost a lot of his life.

I smiled when I read his message this morning. Not because Tony lost a lot of years of his life – that I will always think is tragic. I smiled because finally, finally, finally all the love I felt for him, he now has for himself, and that’s all I ever really wanted for him. He is a good, good man with a good, good heart. He’s kind and generous and brilliant. And for so many years, I wanted him to see himself the way that I saw him. No matter what I did, nothing worked. So I let him go. In the end, there was no other choice. When he looked in the mirror, he didn’t see what I saw. Now, he does.

I wrote back to him, “T – I am so happy for you. You are on the right path. And it’s never too late to make a change. Xo” I meant this – every word of it. I’d like to believe that somewhere along the line all the love I gave him helped him in his journey. I’d like to believe that me being in his life helped him flip the switch from self-loathing to self-loving. I’d always like to believe that love, when given freely and in abundance makes a difference eventually. That love, unrequited or not, is never for naught.

I thought of him all day today – of so many good times and so many not-so-good times. I thought about who I was then and what I wanted then, and how much that has changed. I thought of all the things about him that made me smile, and those things still make me smile. What’s amazing about my journey with Tony, though so long ago, is that all the hurt I felt upon leaving isn’t there anymore. Somehow all the hurt faded, and only the good stuff remains. Even the bad times just don’t seem so bad when placed side-by-side with all the happy and wonderful times we had. I hope he feels the same way. Our hearts and memories are funny, malleable things, and for that I’m grateful.

Tony showed me how much love my heart could hold. This is a powerful lesson. As much as I fell in love with Tony, just as he was, I fell even more in love with his potential. I used to regard falling in love with potential as a waste. Today, I changed my mind on that thanks to him.

Potential might be more worthy of love than anything else. Potential is hope. Potential is something to look forward to. Potential keeps us looking up and working toward a better tomorrow, toward bettering ourselves. My love for Tony’s potential was not a waste at all; it’s a remedy that he eventually used to build a better life for himself.

He gave me so much and now I finally feel like I was able to return the favor. Even though it didn’t work out for us in the long-run, I regard my time with me him as precious. I am nothing but honored and privileged to have been a small part of his healing.

The image above is not my own. I love it though, and found it here.

business, children, dreams, education, innovation, philanthropy

My Year of Hopefulness – Citizen Schools

Christa Avampato

Yesterday, October 7th, was a decisive turning point for me. Amazing since September 30th, exactly one week ago, was a really bad day on a lot of levels. On the 30th, I went out with my friends, Jeff and Brian, to a local restaurant in our neighborhood. After hearing Christa Avampato’s a series of unfortunate events, he told me about his philosophy of life. “It’s a sine wave.”

On the 30th, I was decidedly at the bottom of the trough. The only good thing about being there is that the only way to move forward is up. Oscar Wilde said, “We’re all lying in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars.” Today, my stars took shape as Citizen Schools.

For five months I’ve been writing an education pilot proposal, Innovation Station, that uses theatre to teach inner-city middle school kids in New York City about innovation, product development, and entrepreneurship through an after-school program. Yesterday, the proposal was accepted to be part of Citizen Schools, an organization that supports community members teaching what they’re passionate about to middle school students in public schools all around the country. I go into training in January and will begin the pilot in February in East Harlem. I’ll be blogging about the class (of course!) so that people who are interested in it can follow the progress. You’ll also be able to follow the progress of it on my Facebook and Twitter accounts.

The similarities to what I want to do and what Citizen Schools already supports are truly miraculous. A dream come true! They provide curriculum writing support, in-classroom support for every session, webinars, connection to the school. All the classes conclude with the WOW! Showcase – a series of presentations where the students demonstrate mastery over the material they learned to a panel of experts in the field of the project. The sessions are photographed, filmed, and publicized on the organization’s website. All of the things I asked for in my proposal Citizen School provides to every program they support, and then some! It’s incredible!


I have to publicly thank my friend, Cari, for suggesting that I reach out to Citizen Schools. 10 days after I spoke with Cari, I’m now officially a Citizen Teacher in training, and I couldn’t be happier! I also need to thank a few friends who provided amazing feedback on the proposal at its earliest stages: Liz, Amy, Cindy, Steve, Elizabeth, and the lovely ladies on Owning Pink. Without your valuable input, the proposal would have never been approved because I probably would have never submitted it. Your encouragement kept me going. And to Laura, my amazing writing and business partner, who when I asked her if I could really write this said simply, “of course you can” and promptly moved on to another topic because me doubting myself was just not okay on her watch, or ever for that matter.


Originally, I had set out to print the proposal and send it out to a bunch of schools for review on Saturday, September 5th, the very day that my apartment building caught fire. Obviously, I didn’t get around to that. My original plan was not meant to be. And thank goodness. This scenario with Citizen Schools is so much better than my original plan of trying myself to get an individual school to sign up for the pilot.


This process has been a great lesson in stepping up and in not over-thinking a situation and an outcome. We can ask ourselves a million times if we’re ready for a certain situation – be it professional or personal. Am I ready for this job, this change, this relationship, this move, this challenge? And the answer is no, we’re never ready. And that’s okay. By not being ready, we are authentic, we are open to the magic that the world offers our ideas if only we have the courage to articulate them.


I learned through this experience that sometimes we need to shut up and just do. Forget about the if’s and but’s. We will deal with them when they present themselves. There are people in the world who need the power of our ideas and dreams. We cannot allow our own insecurities to deny them our talents. ‘Perfect’ is the greatest enemy of ‘good’. And good will do just fine.


My friend, Lon, reminded me recently about the fire that closed the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. This year, the repairs were completed and the Cathedral re-opened, more sacred and beautiful than it was before. In a way, I feel like my life and Innovation Station have gone through the same trial by fire. Some things destroyed and re-built emerge more beautiful.

business, entrepreneurship, NBC, social entrepreneurship

Shine A Light Competition – Your Chance to Help a Small Business Doing Great Work in Their Communities

Christa Avampato

Hi all,

Just a quick note to tell you about Shine A Light, a great on-line competition that is currently running to provide a $100,000 grant and American Express marketing support to a small business doing good works in their community. It only takes a minute to vote and can make a world of difference to a small business. Personally, I voted for Beacon Paint because of their dedication to New York City public schools. If you’re interested in voting, visit Shine A Light’s website.

The finalists are:
Beacon Paint has been on the same street for 109 years. They are proof that longevity alone does not always tell the story. Their warmth and hospitality is well known in the neighborhood. They are proud of their generosity and community minded spirit, particularly among the NYC public schools in their neighborhood.

Sacred Wind Communications (SWC) is a for-profit telecommunications company with 40 employees and has a non-profit educational arm of the corporation which serves the Navajo people in New Mexico.

HAPPYBABY organic baby foods launched on Mother’s Day 2006 with 5 products in 5 small NYC stores. The business is the brainchild of a social entrepreneur who wanted to make a difference using business, support sustainable agriculture, provide our children with the best start to instill eating habits for a healthy happy life, and simultaneously provide basic nutritional needs for less fortunate children simply trying to survive.

This competition is made possible by the partnership between American Express and NBC Universal.
charity, children, education, hope, hunger, school, shopping

My Year of Hopefulness – How a Dime Makes a Difference with a FEED 100 Bag

Christa Avampato

I arrived home last night to my ordinary neighborhood after a mostly ordinary day at the office. I walked down a few blocks to Whole Foods with the intention of picking up dinner and going back to my apartment to watch NBC Nightly News with Brian Williams – one of my favorite weeknight activities. (Nerdy, I know. I can’t help it. I’m addicted to the news, and I love the “Making a Difference” segment.)

After filling up my little basket, I headed to the cash register where the woman who was ringing up my groceries asked if I’d like to buy a FEED 100 Bag, a reusable shopping bag made from 100% organic cotton and sustainable burlap. Hmmm…I had seen these before though wasn’t totally sure what the deal was. They used to be $30. They’re now $10, and wait until you hear what they do!



For $10, you provide 100 hungry children in Rwanda with a nutritious school meal through the UN World Food Program (WFP). A single dime per child. 400,000,000 children go to bed every night hungry. And that pain of hunger is devastating. I know first hand. When I was a kid, we struggled financially and my brother, sister, and I often went to bed hungry, and scared, and feeling alone. We had free and reduced-price lunch for most of my childhood and I can guarantee that this program was one of the huge blessings that saved me. Literally. With that meal, I was able to pay more attention to my studies, which earned me good grades, which helped me to go college and graduate school, which helped me build a good, successful life.



A lot of people look at school statistics like “75% of children at this school receive free lunch” and see it as just that – a statistic. A number on an Excel spreadsheet. When I see these numbers, I see me, and my brother, and my sister, and a lot of people in my hometown who grew up just like us. This tiny contribution of $10 makes a difference, I assure you.



I arrived home from an ordinary day and I had the opportunity to do something extraordinary. A very small act that will make a very big difference. I helped 100 kids around the world have a chance to follow in my same path to happier, healthier days. You can, too. FEED 100 Bags are available at Whole Foods nationwide.