I tell wonder-filled stories about hope and healing
Author: Christa Avampato
The short of it:
Writer. Health, education, and art advocate. Theater and film producer. Visual artist. Product geek. Proud alumnae of the University of Pennsylvania (BA) and the Darden School of Business at the University of Virginia (MBA). Inspired by ancient wisdom & modern tech. Proliferator of goodness. Opener of doors. Friend to animals. Fan of creative work in all its wondrous forms. I use my business skills to create passion projects that build a better world. I’ve been called the happiest New Yorker, and I try hard to live up to that title every day.
The long of it:
My career has stretched across Capitol Hill, Broadway theatre, education, nonprofit fundraising, health and wellness, and Fortune 500 companies in retail, media, entertainment, technology, and financial services. I’ve been a product developer and product manager, theater manager, strategic consultant, marketer, voice over artist, , teacher, and fundraiser. I use my business and storytelling to support and sustain passion projects that build a better world. In every experience, I’ve used my sense of and respect for elegant design to develop meaningful products, services, programs, and events.
While building a business career, I also built a strong portfolio as a journalist, novelist, freelance writer, interviewer, presenter, and public speaker. My writing has appeared in The Washington Post, The Huffington Post, PBS.org, Boston.com, Royal Media Partners publications, and The Motley Fool on a wide range of topics including business, technology, science, health, education, culture, and lifestyle. I have also been an invited speaker at SXSW, Teach for America, Avon headquarters, Games for Change, NYU, Columbia University, Hunter College, and the Alzheimer’s Foundation of America. The first book in my young adult book series, Emerson Page and Where the Light Enters, was acquired by a publisher and launched in November 2017. I’m currently working on the second book in the series.
A recovering multi-tasker, I’m equally at home in front of my Mac, on my yoga mat, walking my rescue dog, Phineas, traveling with a purpose, or practicing the high-art of people watching. I also cut up small bits of paper and put them back together as a collage artist.
My company:
I’m bringing together all of my business and creative career paths as the Founder of Double or Nothing Media:
• I craft products, programs, and projects that make a difference;
• I build the business plans that make what I craft financially sustainable;
• I tell the stories that matter about the people, places, and products that inspire me.
Follow my adventures on Twitter at https://twitter.com/christanyc and Instagram at https://instagram.com/christarosenyc.
And here we go! This morning, I took my last pill of letrozole. This afternoon, I will see my oncologist, get the prescription for my new medication that will hopefully have fewer side effects and help me feel better, and start a cutting edge monitoring program that detects even a hint of recurrence at the cellular level. (More on that in a later post.) Happily, I will NOT have to get a lupron shot as part of my appointment; I’m done with those, too.
Just before I woke up this morning, I had a dream where I was standing at a podium, talking about what I learned from cancer. I woke up and wrote down as much as I could remember. Cancer taught me:
1.) to give myself grace and give myself a break
2.) I have the right to feel all my feelings
3.) to be tough and more empathetic
4.) I can feel complex, conflicting emotions
5.) to be fearless
6.) how to ask for help and stopped feeling any shame about anything
7.) to let my light shine.
8.) there’s absolutely nothing wrong with loving the crap out of everything.
9.) to go for it, whatever it is.
10.) to tell my friends I love them all the time.
11.) I don’t need to spend time doing anything I don’t want to do. If I can’t do it with my whole heart, then I just don’t do it. If I’m in the midst of something and getting no joy from it, I stop.
12.) stop pushing through just to prove I could. To live, sure. Out of of some made up obligation, nah. The word “should” has left my vocabulary.
13.) to love working out every day.
14.) to take a lot of pride in taking care of my health – my diet, my stress level, my mental, physical, and emotional health. I’m healthier and more whole than I’ve ever been.
15.) to be grateful for all of it.
Thank you to everyone who helped me along this journey. I still have 5 more years of medications, and I’m celebrating this milestone. I’ll take every win I can get. Long may they continue.
“Going home doesn’t feel like triumph. It feels like relief.” ~Dr. John Bucher, Joseph Campbell Foundation executive director
A few weeks ago, I had the great fortune to listen to my friend and mentor, John Bucher, talk about The Odyssey at Los Angeles’s Getty Villa. The title of his talk was “No Place Like Home: Why The Odyssey Is the Story We Keep Retelling”. (His talk is streaming on YouTube and you can watch here.)
I’ve been thinking about the idea of home a lot recently. Homer’s ancient Greek epic The Odyssey follows Odysseus, king of Ithaca, as he spends 10 years trying to get home after the Trojan War. While he faces monsters, storms, and gods, his wife, Penelope, and son Telemachus fight off aggressive suitors taking over his palace. As John explains, it’s about the war after the war and finding an answer to the question, “How do we go home when home no longer exists?”
It struck me so clearly that Odysseus’s journey is in many ways like a quest all of us have had. For me, his journey parallels my healing from cancer. My 10-year medication journey like his 10-year trek. The dog who is waiting for him so faithfully and then passes once he’s sure of his father’s return – much like how Phinny passed once he knew I would be okay in every way. Odysseus’s home was nothing like the one he left. Neither is my body.
John went on to say, “We might prefer to skip the journey. What we learn is that the journey is worth it.” And I feel that in my every cell of my body. I hate that I got cancer. It’s not a journey I ever wanted to take, not a community of survivors I ever wanted to join. But I had no choice. The journey back to wellness was forced on me. I had to fight, or die. And I wanted to live, so I fought. It was worth it because I learned what I was made of at my core. I learned how people feel about me while I’m still among the living. Best of all, I got to help so many others by lighting the way along their own difficult journeys.
Home isn’t a place, at least not for me. Home is love. Home is belonging. Home is friendship. Home is being a part of something bigger than myself. Home is purpose. Home is something I carry with me, always, in all ways, everywhere I go.
“I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow; but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.” ~Agatha Christie
To make sure I never forget to take my meds and supplements, I parse them out each week. Today, I parsed out my last 2 pills of letrozole and tossed the empty bottle in this photo into the recycling bin. And I smiled and cried.
I’m grateful for its service; it’s kept me alive and cancer-free for the 5 years and 3 months I’ve taken it. And I’m so looking forward to bidding it farewell; the painful and difficult physical, mental, and emotional side effects have been a daily struggle to bear. And I have mostly carried them in silence so they wouldn’t overtake me.
Inching closer to ending one chapter and beginning another, I’ve felt a shift. That something in me is changing. That my small corner of the world around me is changing. That this is about so much more than switching medications.
It’s about getting to begin again. To reshape my life. To build back better, from the inside out. In the immortal words of Whitesnake, I don’t know where I’m going but I sure know where I’ve been. And I can’t wait to see what lies ahead. It will be grand just because I get to live it. I’m ready for an adventure.
With the premiere of the 4th season of Ted Lasso launching today on Apple TV, millions of us are tuning back in for a dose of something that feels increasingly rare in the real world: unbridled optimism, radical empathy, and a deep commitment to collective care.
At first glance, a show about an American football coach running an English soccer team feels like pure entertainment. But at its heart, Ted Lasso is a masterclass in human connection. When we talk about building resilient cities, adapting to a changing world, rewilding, or strengthening our neighborhoods and ecosystems, we often focus on physical and tactile systems we can see. But none of those matter if we don’t have the trust and love that form the foundational connections to hold us together in both joyful and difficult times.
Ted and the Richmond crew give us a living playbook for how to care for our communities and each other. Here is a look at the show’s wisdom on leadership, cooperation, mental health, friendship, and why work must be about more than trading hours for a paycheck.
1. Leadership: Be Curious, Not Judgmental
“Guys have underestimated me my entire life… and it used to really bother me. Then one day, I was driving my son to school, and I saw this quote by Walt Whitman, and it was painted on the wall there. It said, ‘Be curious, not judgmental.’ I like that.” — Ted Lasso, Season 1, Episode 8 “The Diamond Dogs”
Ted’s famous dart-game ethos is the ultimate lesson for navigating complex times. When faced with opposition or someone we just don’t understand, our knee-jerk reaction is often to either dismiss their point-of-view or try to win the argument.
True leaders lead with inquiry instead of authority. Whether you’re managing a team at work or organizing a community event or collaborative creative project, leading with curiosity lowers defenses and opens the door to genuine connection. You can’t build a strong community if you’ve already decided who someone is before listening to their story.
2. Cooperation: Build for the Team, Not the Ego
“For me, success is not about the wins and losses. It’s about helping these young fellas be the best versions of themselves on and off the pitch.” — Ted Lasso,Season 1, Episode 3 “Trent Crimm: The Independent”
Richmond doesn’t succeed because one star player carries the team; they succeed when every person—from the star striker to the kit man to the back office team members—recognizes their worth and supports the collective whole.
In community life, ego breaks things apart. Real cooperation requires psychological safety: creating an environment where people feel safe to make mistakes, speak up, and bring their full selves to the table. When Jamie Tartt learns to pass the ball instead of hogging the spotlight, the entire team rises. When everyone feels ownership over the group’s wellbeing, the whole neighborhood thrives. (This is also the leadership mindset of Jalen Brunson as the captain of the Championship New York Knicks basketball team – more on that in a forthcoming post!)
3. Work as Purpose: Life Is Too Short to Stay Miserable
Ted: “Why the heck weren’t you at the press conference?” Trent: “Because I am no longer a reporter. I was fired when they found out I revealed an anonymous source.” Ted: “Oh, snap. I… I didn’t say anything, I promise.” Trent: “No, I know, Ted. I did. I’m looking for something different. Deeper.” Season 2, Episode 12 “Inverting the Pyramid of Success”
A heartbreaking reminder crossed my inbox: a long-time colleague at work who retired in 2019 passed away this week. He got just seven years in retirement. None of us know how much time we have on this planet, and trading our most precious, non-renewable resource—time—for a job that drains our soul is not only a shame, but wasteful. We deserve so much better. We deserve work that fills us up.
Every central character on Ted Lasso reaches a moment where staying in a toxic, comfortable, or soul-crushing situation threatens their spirit, forcing them to make a terrifying leap:
Rebecca Welton transforms AFC Richmond from a weapon of revenge against her ex-husband into a sanctuary of collective joy, choosing vulnerability and genuine leadership over bitterness and anger.
Keeley Jones walks away from being a model to work in PR that ultimately leads to her building her own PR firm from scratch, trusting her innate emotional intelligence.
Nate Shelley has to confront his desperate desire for status and unlearn the belief that title equals worth before finding his way back to honest connection. It’s a rocky journey for him, and he makes some difficult and painful turns before learning the deeper lessons.
Roy Kent has to retire from playing the game that defined his entire identity. He mourns that loss, and discovers who he is and what he’s capable of when the crowd stops cheering.
Ted leaves his comfort zone in the U.S. to step into an environment where everyone expects him to fail, prioritizing human growth over safe routine, all while navigating massive changes in his family life and confronting his past and his own mental health challenges.
When a job becomes a source of misery rather than purpose, leaving isn’t just a career move—it’s an act of self-preservation, self-care, and self-love. Work should be a place where we grow, connect, and serve others, not a place where we park our spirits while waiting for life to start.
4. Mental Health: Carrying Heavy Loads Together
“I promise you there is something worse out there than being sad, and that is being alone and being sad. Ain’t nobody in this room alone.” — Ted Lasso, Season 1, Episode 10 “The Hope that Kills You”
Perhaps the most radical move the show ever made was pulling back the curtain on Ted’s signature relentless optimism to reveal his deep pain and the mental health challenges he’s been hiding his whole life. Behind the jokes and baked goods, Ted was carrying the devastating grief of his divorce, the heartbreaking distance from his son Henry back in Kansas, the loss of his father in tragic circumstances, and severe panic attacks that left him incapacitated on the pitch, in his office and locker room, and at home.
Ted’s journey to his therapy sessions with Dr. Sharon Fieldstone teaches us that toxic positivity and denial won’t save us. Real resilience isn’t pretending everything is fine when your world is falling apart; it’s having the courage to say, “I’m not okay, and I need help.”
We cannot build strong, caring communities with exhausted people who feel forced to suffer in silence while wearing a brave face that’s just a mask. Normalizing therapy as a resource to help us speak openly about anxiety and accept care when we’re down to nothing aren’t signs of failure—they are how we survive and stay whole (or become whole again) so we can thrive.
5. Friendship: The Power of the “Diamond Dogs”
“To believe in yourself, to believe in one another. Man, that’s fundamental to being alive.” — Ted Lasso,Season 3, Episode 5 “Signs”
Adult friendship is often treated as a luxury in a world obsessed with professional output. But Ted Lasso shows us that intentional, vulnerable friendship is a vital life-support system.
When Ted, Higgins, Coach Beard, Nate, and Roy gather as the Diamond Dogs, they don’t meet to give unsolicited advice or fix each other’s problems with aggressive solutions. They meet to listen, offer perspective, hold space, and normalize each other’s emotional struggles. (Of course, there’s a big plot twist late in Season 2 that shows what happens when that trust is broken.)
In a world plagued by an epidemic of loneliness, building your own Diamond Dogs—a circle of friends or peers where you can drop the tough exterior and speak honestly—is one of the most revolutionary acts of community care available to us.
6. Being in Community: Belonging Over Fitting In
“I suppose the best brand is just being yourself.” — Ted Lasso, Season 1, Episode 3 “Trent Crimm: The Independent View”
True community isn’t about conformity or changing who you are to be accepted; it’s about creating a space where everyone belongs as their authentic selves. Ted doesn’t try to make Roy Kent act like Keeley, or Sam act like Jamie. He honors their distinct backgrounds, cultures, and personalities while weaving them into a cohesive support system.
Building community in our neighborhoods and workplaces works the exact same way. It isn’t about flattening our differences—it’s about building a big enough table so that everyone’s unique lived experience strengthens the whole.
7. Career Resilience: How to Bounce Back from Difficulty
“You know what the happiest animal on Earth is? It’s a goldfish. You know why? It’s got a 10-second memory. Be a goldfish.” — Ted Lasso, Season 1, Episode 2 “Biscuits”
In our careers and personal growth, we often carry the weight of past missteps, failed projects, or awkward interactions like heavy baggage. Ted’s advice to Sam Obisanya after a tough play is a lesson in professional grace and resilience.
Progress requires letting go of perfectionism. The most fulfilling, impactful careers aren’t built by people who never make mistakes; they’re built by people who process a setback, learn the quick lesson, forgive themselves, and get right back to lifting up the team.
Takeaways
Resilience isn’t just about what we build—it’s about the love, care, courage, and camaraderie we offer each other while building it.
Reframe Your Time: Take an honest audit of where you spend your energy this week. If you’re staying in a toxic situation out of habit or fear, start exploring what a leap toward purpose might look like.
Practice Radical Curiosity: The next time you encounter a perspective in your workplace or neighborhood that frustrates you, pause before reacting. Channel your inner Ted and ask one genuinely curious question to understand where they are coming from.
Form Your Diamond Dogs: Create a safe space with a few trusted friends, neighbors, or colleagues where you can speak openly about your personal challenges without fear of judgment.
Normalize the Check-In: Make a practice of reaching out and checking in with friends or colleagues so that if and when difficulties arise for them, they know you are someone they can turn to for support.
Like Ted says, taking on a challenge is a lot like riding a horse. If you’re comfortable while you’re doing it, you’re probably doing it wrong. Let’s keep leaning into the uncomfortable, beautiful work of caring for one another—and making every moment count.
Custom cupcakes I made for my friend’s book launch party
Today my dear friend, Amy Scher, published her first novel, The Unexpected Afterlife of Salon Rose. I’m so excited I got the chance to make her custom cupcakes for her book launch tonight in NYC.
My friends are my family and I will make the time, even when I’m short on time to do something special for them. Pouring love into our friendships, we get back so much more than we give.
The community we build carries us through difficulties, shares in our celebrations, and makes life better in every way. It’s the resource and gift that keeps on giving. It’s worthy of our time and attention.
I don’t know where I’d be without my friends, and I’m grateful I’ll never have to know.
“Instead of asking what’s the easiest thing you can do to mitigate climate change, ask yourself what’s the hardest thing you can do. That’s where you can have the most impact.” ~ Dr. Ken Lacovara
My friend, mentor, and science hero said this during a recent talk he gave at the Harvard Club. With climate change, or any massive problem, we tend to focus on what’s the path of least resistance. “How can we get ourselves and others engaged in action with minimal effort?’ is the common refrain. But what if we did the hardest thing we can imagine, as Ken suggests? What might happen then?
I’ve been turning this idea over in my mind for weeks since Ken said it. What’s the hardest thing I can do to stop climate change? What’s the hardest thing I can do to build a happy, fulfilling life? What’s the hardest thing I can do to help my foster dogs and honor my soul dog, Phineas? What’s the hardest thing I can do to move forward after 5 years of cancer treatment? What’s the hardest thing I can do to be good at my job, to be a better writer, to be a better entertainment producer, to be a better friend, to make my community and the greater world a better place?
These are questions I’m thinking about a lot right now. The one I have an answer to is how to move forward after these 5 years. I’m moving forward without fear, and full of love and hope and gratitude. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, and Ken helped me see it’s how I can do the most good. So on I go…
When we swing for the fences and chase dreams, we get disappointed a lot. It’s the price we pay for going after exactly the life we want rather than just settling for the easiest path or what happens to present itself to us. If we actively shape our lives, no matter the odds, we’re bound to meet rejection now and again. If we’re lucky.
Whenever I’m disappointed that something didn’t work out as I hoped, I say to myself, “I wonder what I was saved from?” Sometimes, I eventually learn the answer.
My cancer made me healthier, mentally and physically. It set my priorities in order. It made me realize what truly matters most. I don’t if any of that would have happened without cancer. So I choose to be grateful for it. I choose to believe that I’ll live longer and better because of cancer, even if it did try to kill me a few times. Life works in mysterious ways.
This week I was working on a big self-imposed deadline. I’ve been chipping away at a nonfiction book proposal for a publisher’s open call. I’ve thrown a lot of time and heart into this proposal. I was almost to the finish line. I had polished one of the sample chapter and had two more to go.
And I just didn’t want to finish it. Not like this for this publisher. I was frustrated and stressed. So I stopped. That’s when a valuable question rose to the surface: What am I really trying to do with this deadline?
I was going to spend my entire long weekend exhausted to churn out something that wouldn’t be representative of what I wanted to do for a publisher that, while aligned with my ethos and perspective of the world, wouldn’t be able to offer much support for my book. They have a big heart but limited resources and an even more limited track record.
So I stopped. I’m proud of the work I did on it, and I can use that work for other projects. But I let myself cross this off my to-do list without getting it done right now in this way for this purpose. Once I made that choice, I breathed a sigh of relief.
One thing this past 5 years has taught me is that our most precious resource is time. We can’t make more of it. Once it’s spent, it’s gone. I don’t spend time doing anything I don’t want to do. If I can’t do it with my whole heart, then I don’t do it. If I’m in the midst of something and getting no joy from it, I stop. I don’t feel obligated to continue. I stopped pushing through just to prove I could. To live, sure. Out of of some made up obligation? Nah.
The word “should” has left my vocabulary. Good riddance to it.
It can be difficult to get from day to day when we feel like we’re stuck, or even worse, going backward. We are, rightly, obsessed with progress and forward momentum.
But life will sometimes slow us down. Something will stand in our way, seemingly immovable, and so we have to search for a way up, over, and most often, through. Illness and injury are the most palpable examples of what it feels like to be held back, no longer able to do what we once could. Maybe it’s temporary. Maybe it’s permanent. All of it is frustrating at best, and often downright depressing.
Over the past 5 years, I’ve been held back a lot. My health took a lot of time and effort to restore. It still takes a lot of time and effort to maintain. Side effects are a daily struggle, and I’m only half way through the decade of meds I need to take. This is the hand I’ve been dealt.
When I see myself being held back, and even actively pulled backward, I close my eyes and remind myself I am like a bow and arrow. To fly forward, an arrow must be drawn back. The stronger the force pulling it back, the further it will fly when eventually that force relents. And it will always eventually relent, releasing the arrow.
What keeps me going in moments of regression is knowing that one day I will get past all these obstacles standing in my way. In the meantime, I am getting stronger, more resilient, and learning because of these setbacks. I am an arrow, and my day to fly will arrive.
One of John Rucker’s Boykin Spaniels delicately carrying an ornate box turtle to safety. Photo from Nature Conservancy
I’m hoping that this year I will be able to adopt a dog. My foster dogs have helped me heal from the loss of my soul dog, Phineas. I will never get over losing him, and I’m also ready to welcome another dog into my life for their whole life. One thing I’d love to do with my future dog is to train to be a therapy team in chemo units and for kids reading to dogs programs at the New York and Brooklyn Public Libraries. Today, I learned about another opportunity that I’d love to look into, merging my love of dogs with my love for nature.
When we talk about climate adaptation and wildlife restoration, our minds usually jump to solutions that range from high-tech solutions like satellite tracking or automated drone monitoring to letting nature take her course and reclaim the land and seas. But across the world, some of the most effective conservation tools ever deployed run on four legs—or a quick game of fetch.
Conservation dogs are quietly transforming how we protect fragile ecosystems and wildlife. By training dogs to use their olfactory superpowers—which are tens of thousands of times more sensitive than ours—scientists and local communities are locating endangered species, tracking invasive pests, and stopping illegal wildlife trafficking in fractions of the time it takes human teams. (A mind-blowing fact about the sensitivity of a dog’s nose: Bloodhounds have an olfactory capability that can even reach up to10 million timesas sensitive as ours!)
My love for dogs runs as deep as my love for nature so learning how dogs can promote conservation has me wondering if this is a future career path for me, and a type of work I can do with my future dog. The talent of these pups is a powerful reminder that our smartest path forward often isn’t trying to out-engineer nature or just leaving nature to clean up our mess, but learning how to partner with her for the good of all species, including humans.
Precision Tracking in the Field
The real-world impacts of conservation canines span across oceans, prairies, and geographic borders:
Prairie Turtle Monitors: At The Nature Conservancy’s Nachusa Grasslands in Illinois, a famous squad of retired Boykin spaniels (trained by handler John Rucker, a retired high school English teacher from North Carolina) helped scientists track threatened ornate box turtles hidden deep in tallgrass prairie. Thanks to their soft mouths, the dogs gently picked up and retrieved the turtles without causing a single injury, locating more turtles in two hours than human researchers could find in a full week. Talk about efficiency!
Pangolin and Ivory Detection: Organizations like Working Dogs for Conservation (WD4C) deploy sniffer dogs to transit hubs and border checkpoints across Africa and Asia. These dogs detect hidden ivory, rhino horn, and pangolin scales with breathtaking accuracy, disrupting illegal poaching networks before products leave the region.
Saving the Right Whale: Off the coast of New England and Canada, specialized detection dogs ride on the bows of research boats to sniff out North Atlantic Right Whale scat from over a mile away. Finding these samples allows marine biologists to assess whale stress levels, pregnancy rates, and diet without ever disturbing these critically endangered and majestic ocean giants.
Invasive Species Eradication: In New Zealand and Hawaii, local conservation teams rely on dogs to hunt down invasive pests like rats, stoats, and Argentine ants that threaten native bird populations. What would take human teams weeks of destructive searching, a trained dog can pinpoint in a single afternoon. Give these dogs a raise!
Locating Invisible Plants: In the American West, dogs sniff out invasive weeds before they bloom above ground, allowing land managers to eradicate problem plants before they overtake native grasslands and fuel wildfire risks. How devastating can invasive plants be if left to run amok? Kudzu, a fast-growing climbing vine known is know as “the vine that ate the South” because it’s now so pervasive and seemingly unstoppable. It was brought to the U.S. from Japan in 1876. 150 years on, we’re still dealing with its destruction.
A Model for Local Agency
What makes working conservation dogs so compelling for community resilience is their low barrier to technology and high degree of local agency. You don’t need a multi-million-dollar lab or proprietary software to run a successful conservation dog program. You need dedicated handlers, strong local knowledge, a deep respect for animal behavior, and imagination.
It re-centers conservation work on human-animal partnerships, bringing local communities directly into the field as active custodians of their own ecosystems.
The Togetherhood Takeaway
True resilience means expanding our toolkit beyond human tech and recognizing the ecological allies already around us.
Reframe How We View Nature’s Capabilities: Technology is vital, but biological solutions are often faster, cheaper, and less invasive. Look for opportunities in your own community where natural processes (a community members of all species!) can solve structural problems.
Support Local Working Dog Programs: Look into organizations like Working Dogs for Conservation or Rogue Detection Teams. Supporting non-profits that train shelter dogs or rescue breeds for wildlife research gives animals a second life while protecting vital habitats.
Become an Active Observer: Dogs succeed because they pay hyper-detailed attention to their environment. Take a cue from our four-legged partners this week: practice active observation in your local parks or urban green spaces to better understand the biodiversity right outside your doorstep.
We can’t tackle the ecological crisis alone. One of our best partners in building a sustainable future is sitting right at our feet, tail wagging and ready to help.
Christa Avampato 