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.
health, home, New York City

My Year of Hopefulness – Fire

Christa Avampato

Today I was more scared that I’ve ever been. I’m blogging tonight from the a comforting home of a friend, smelling soot and ash from my laptop that is likely ruined. My apartment building caught fire today.

I’m fine. Most of my belongings are fine. At around 1:00pm I heard the floor of my kitchen crackling and the floor began to heave. I grabbed my keys and went downstairs to tell my neighbor to stop doing whatever he was doing. And then the stairwell filled with thick black smoke.

I couldn’t see anything – it was as if I had a blindfold on. I got as low as I could, scrambled down three flights, and yelled as loud as I could. Apparently my yelling helped some of my neighbors get out of the building. No smoke alarms went off, or at leas none of the ones I pass on my way downstairs.

It was a curious thing. I felt like I was flying down those stairs, as if someone was carrying me. My apartment is largely untouched, despite that most of my neighbors around me have apartments that are virtually destroyed. And just this morning I was talking about the importance of renters’ insurance and how I’d never had anything like a house fire happen to me. It’s all a bit eerie. I’m worried I may never feel at home in that apartment again and yet, I’m also very much aware that someone, somewhere was and is protecting me.

My greatest fear was that I’d pass out on the stairs, dying from smoke inhalation. And even though I got a face full of soot, I never once felt like I was suffocating. I only had the fear of suffocating. Very different. Truthfully, I came out that front door with a scratch, bump, or bruise on me. I was just fine. Only shaken.

And now I wonder if this one event is enough. As if I weren’t already painfully aware of time passing by, now I think I might be turning a corner, again, in my quest for a whole, joyful life. It seems that now I really don’t have any reason to be afraid. That there is no time like the present to grab ahold of everything I ever wanted to do or be. A few more minutes in that building, and the ending of my story could have been much different. I might not be writing this blog post tonight.

We’re all always on borrowed time. Now, it seems impossible to me that I could ever forget that. And for this borrowed time, I am most grateful. I learned today that I really don’t need any possessions I have. All I needed was my health. I just needed to be okay. The rest can be replaced. All of it. Amazing how it takes something so traumatic to truly know something so basic.

Already I feel the gloom lifting and the light settling in. Already I know that I will be more than okay, that today I begin never, ever looking back. Today I start moving forward with a new energy to build the greatest life I possibly can. And again, I feel like I am flying, as if someone is carrying me. And I know they are.

family, mother, simplicity

My Year of Hopefulness – My Mother Makes Room

Christa Avampato

“The only real elegance is in the mind; if you’ve got that, the rest really comes from it.” ~ Diana Vreeland

Today my mom began the slow and sometimes painful process of emptying. My mom is an extremely skilled collector, meaning that she never, ever gets rid of anything or anyone. She likes to be surrounded, with things, with people. It gives her comfort and she’s always had in mind that eventually someday she’d get to that magazine, or that book, or that craft project or conversation she was meaning to have. And someday she’ll get to some of them, but truthfully, she won’t ever get through all of it. There is 35 years of stuff in her house and today it was time for a good chunk of that stuff to go.

I’ve been thinking about this process of emptying, wiping the slate clean, and beginning again. It’s a task best done often and thoroughly. It’s amazing what piles up in our homes, lives, and minds. Even in our writing. I’ve tried to approach my own process of emptying with an attitude of elegance. Consider modern design, of anything really. Clean lines, simplicity, removing the unnecessary so the necessary can speak. I’m trying not to think of it as throwing out, but making room to breath and to move.

While on the surface all this emptying sounds like it would be a great relief, as if a huge weight has been lifted from us, I must confess that in some ways it is a bitter sweet relief. My mom had to let go of a lot of memories in order to make that room in her home. She had to recognize that certain parts of her life are gone. It’s a brave thing she did – to let go. There are so many people who never do that, who can never face up to the fact that life is moving by at a very quick pace, and that sometimes there are some things that must be let go of. We can’t possibly hang on to it all.

My mom is an elegant woman – she has handled far more than her fair share of obstacles and disappointments. She’s suffered huge losses of many things and people, losing some after many hard fought struggles, and through it all she worked hard to keep a face of elegance and grace. She got through it by putting her mind in order and saying that right now she just needs to get from A to B, and tomorrow she’ll consider getting to C. We were her first priority always, no matter what, so I guess that made some decisions easier to make. She was never going to do anything that wasn’t good for her kids. She is by every definition an elegant mother.

So now as she enters the autumn of her life with a less full home in every sense, she has the room and space to decide how to place what remains. And though now it may look like there are unnatural holes and pockets, my guess is that she will find a way to make it all fit together. By removing what was no longer needed, she uncovered and rediscovered lost treasures and memories and ideas, things that will enrich her life going forward. It will just take some time to get used to.

children, community service, education, love

My Year of Hopefulness – One Life at a Time

Christa Avampato
“It does not require a majority to prevail, but rather an irate, tireless minority keen to set brush fires in people’s minds.” ~ Sam Adams

It’s a glorious thing to get to live a day exactly the way we want it to be. This weekend, I’ll be trying on the costume of a full-time entrepreneur. I’m getting ready to send my after-school program proposal to public school principals. Checking every “i” and “t” in the proposal, researching the best fit schools to target, and beginning to write the curriculum. I’m already fantasizing about spending tomorrow at my kitchen table, writing while the afternoon sun softly filters through the windows. It will be glorious.

Except when I’m scared, which I often am, when considering this proposal. If I think for too long about the task before me, my stomach starts doing back flips and my eyes well up. There are so many kids who have so little and need so much. I’m one person, with one little project. What kind of impact will that have when I consider that I want to reach hundreds of thousands, millions, of kids around the world? I am one small person. When I’m alone, this thought comes to the forefront of my mind and is undeniable.

I was just on the phone with someone, explaining why this project is so important, why it matters, and why I have to do this now. As I spoke, I felt the strength rising within me, the tears of frustration turned to tears of possibility and hope and dreams realized. And then he said something to me that I wish I could box up and carry around with me forever. Something that Jane Goodall communicated last night, too. He said that while I might need to pour everything I’ve got into this curriculum, that’s only half of the program. The other half will be the love I give while teaching. Love I can give – I know I’m good at that. So now I know I’m already halfway there.

Last night, the 92Y had a slide show running with quotes and photos of Jane Goodall pertaining to her work around the world. One quote that struck me so hard was one in which she talked about having goals with a wide-reaching impact. “Although the challenges seem daunting at times, this is ultimately the only way to make lasting change – one life at a time.” My pilot program is for 10 kids, barely a drop in the bucket compared to how many need this program. My hope is that those 10 will help others in turn, and so on. We’ll use leverage and multiplicative efforts to achieve this ideal of helping every kid grow up to be a productive, creative, empowered adult.

Yes the challenges are daunting. They’re downright overwhelming. I know in my heart that we can do this, that a small group of passionate people can start to set the world going in the right direction. Simply put, that’s all I’m trying to do.

animals, environment, hope, nonprofit, philanthropy

My Year of Hopefulness – Jane Goodall

Christa Avampato

Tonight I went to 92Y to hear Jane Goodall, one of the people I admire most. Today she released a new book, Hope for Animals and Their Endangered World. It’s been 49 years since Jane began her landmark study about chimpanzees in the Gombe National Park. She was a 26 year old woman, had never attended university, grew up in a family with very few financial resources, and attempted to document the intimate details of the lives of these animals when she had no formal training on how to do this work. I read one of her many previous book, Reason for Hope, about 10 years ago. Tonight she seemed even more hopeful about the fate of the world and our ability to reverse so much of the damage we’ve done.

Jane writes, speaks, and works for hope. “Without hope, there’s no action,” she said. “My job is to give people hope.” And in the next breathe she talked about the rapid melting of the ice caps and the immense negative impact we’ve had on our planet in a few short decades. Some times, like all of us, she loses heart and becomes overwhelmed with all that we have to do to improve the world.

“So in the face of all that’s negative in the world,” Howard Gardner, the moderator asked, “how can you remain so hopeful?”

“Well, there are several simple reasons,” Jane said:

1.) We have amazing brains that are very good at problem-solving, and they get even sharper when we have our backs against the wall and we need to solve a seemingly impossible problem. Individuals take action. In England, just today, there is a program that started called 10 10. It’s aim is for individuals and companies to reduce their carbon footprint by 10% in 2010. I’d like to see that spread and become a worldwide effort.

2.) Nature is resilient. If we give it time, it grows back.

3.) Young people have so much courage. Take the Roots & Shoots program we have. It is about young people getting together and taking action to do amazing things in the world.

4.) The human spirit is indomitable. Look at Nelson Mandela. 17 years in hard labor prisons, and he comes out still able to forgive.

I found her hope contagious. She has spent her entire life planting seeds within people she meets, encouraging them to action, and setting an example for the extraordinary things we can all do with our lives. Most of all, I was touched an inspired by her approach to her work and her life. She always approaches everything from a place of love. Her one dream in her life was to work with animals. A very simple cause that live in the heart, not the head. She spent so much time with the chimps in Gombe National Park because she loved them, not because they were some scientific experiment. She cared deeply about their welfare, and wanted to share their story with others.

I’ve always looked to Jane as an activist, as someone with a lot of courage and confidence, who braved the world of science for our benefit. What I did not realize until tonight is what a strong example she is for young women. When she was 11, she dreamed of traveling to Africa and working with animals there. Her school friends laughed at her, and yet the strong women who comprised her household encouraged her to dream as big as she good and then go after those dreams. In her work with animals, she’s made all of us more human. She’s connected us to create a global community of deeply committed, concerned participants.

After an extensive Q&A session, Howard Gardner took one more audience question: “Jane, how do you reconcile science and religion?” She sighed slightly and closed with a brilliant line that will ring in my head for days to come. “I wish we would stop worrying about how we came to and come together to figure out how we’re going to get our of this mess we’ve gotten ourselves into.” Jane’s been trying to figure this out for a long time – she’s dedicated her life to this cause – and it’s about time we all join her.

To learn more about the Jane Goodall Institute (JGI), click here. In 2010, a new movie, Jane’s Journey, will be released. It chronicles Jane’s remarkable life and career.

The photo above depicts Jane Goodall and is taken her the JGI website.

community service, Darden, dreams, education, writing, yoga

My year of Hopefulness – It’s More than Just Business

Christa Avampato

I got my MBA from the Darden School at the University of Virginia. When I began there, I thought I was going to learn about Finance and Accounting and Strategy. I thought I was going there to increase my business acumen and break out of the hum drum of middle management. I did all those things, though that wasn’t the important stuff of an MBA, not by a long shot.

This morning on the subway, I worked my way through the rest of this month’s issue of Yoga Journal. There is a beautiful article about the use of yoga in prisons that helps to rehabilitate and treat young offenders. Yoga asks us to scan our bodies, to delve deep into who we are and how we want the world to be. It empowers us. It calms us down by giving us a sense of “otherness” – the ability to view our lives from an objective third party perspective.

In yoga, we find the gratitude to appreciate the good around us, the fortitude to survive challenging times with grace, and the confidence to recognize that “if it is to be, it’s up to me.” This is exactly the message we all need to hear, and a particularly profound way of thinking for young offenders. No one is beyond forgiveness or change. It is never too late. Young offenders need to know this.

The article goes on to talk about nonprofits who are providing yoga classes in prisons, one of them being Mind Body Awareness (MBA) Project. The name gave me pause. I always associate the combination of the letters MBA with “Masters of Business Administration”. Reading this article and recognizing MBA Project’s mission and value gave me a whole new way of thinking about these letters, and my Darden degree.

Much more than analytical skills, contacts, and opportunity, my MBA and Darden offered me a mind body awareness connection as well. It’s where I first taught full yoga classes on a regular basis. It’s where I realized that I could be anything and do anything I wanted. It’s where I realized how connected all of life’s moments are. It’s where I gained a true appreciation for my own personal history, the histories of others, and how they intertwine so beautifully. At Darden, I first became a published writer. I started my blogging there, as well as my interest in social media. I learned that every day we have an opportunity for a fresh start, to learn something new, to be happy, healthy, and grateful. At Darden, I found the seed of what I wanted my life to be in every facet, and I’ve been nurturing it daily ever since.

good fortune, gratitude, thankful, work, yoga

My Year of Hopefulness – Everything You Need is in Your Hands

Christa Avampato

This morning on the subway I was reading the most recent issue of Yoga Journal. Every month they feature a short daily meditation article about a mantra, and this month its about empowerment.

Sanskrit:
“Karagre vasate Lakshmi
Kara-madhye Saraswati
Kara-mule sthita Gauri
Prabhate kara-darshanam”
English:
“On the tip of my fingers is prosperity and abundance (goddess Lakshmi);
In the middle of my hand is eloquence and learning (goddess Saraswati);
At the base of my hand is divine power (goddess Gauri or Parvati).
In the morning, a vision of energy in my hands.”

I’m always looking at people’s hands – they tell you a lot about their lives. What they do for a living, how well they take care of themselves, how they spend their time. They show us the kind of life someone has led.

For the past week, I’ve felt overwhelmed with gratitude and thankfulness. I’ve felt fortunate beyond measure, as if everything I ever wanted for my life is within easy reach. The appearance of this prayer, this call to action, said everything I have been feeling in 10 Sanskrit words.

We spend so much time looking out, looking for signs that we’re on the right track, going in the right direction. Really all we need to do is look as far as our own two hands and realize that there is enough power and grace within us to make the possible certain.

art, New York City, The Journal of Cultural Conversation

The Journal of Cultural Conversation: An interview with Hani, NYC’s Famous Sidewalk Artist

Christa Avampato

A few weeks ago, I was on my way up to Harlem to do some research for an after-school program I’m hoping to launch in January. As I was walking up Broadway, I stopped to admire a painting that had been done of the sidewalk.

It depicted a smiling Barack Obama beside a very pensive Hillary Clinton. Scrawled next to the painting was a URL: http://www.hanisidewalkart.com/. I wrote down the site to look into at a later date.

Two weeks ago I moved into a new apartment, and the day after I moved in there was a large gathering of people in a circle across the street.

I thought for sure someone was hurt, signing autographs, proselytizing, or break-dancing – all common things in New York that draw large sidewalk crowds. None of the above.

There was Hani, painting Michael Jackson on the sidewalk.

This time, I went home immediately and looked up his website. I would have interviewed him right there on the spot, though didn’t want to disturb his creative flow. I emailed him and he wrote back that same evening to say he’d love to be featured on TJCC. His story and work are fascinating and I am enthralled with his art, much of which is showcased on the website. I’m very happy to share his remarkable talent with you. Please click here for the interview.

art, hope, New York City, science, South Africa, travel

My Year of Hopefulness – Hope Grows

Christa Avampato

Today I went to the New Museum of Contemporary Art with my friend, Allan. There’s a South African photography exhibit by David Goldblatt on display there that I wanted to see. On the third floor, the photographs are dire. “Is all of South Africa a desert, Christa?” Allan asked me. In the photos the land has been reduced to rubble, laid barren by years of struggle and negligence. “Where is the hope?” Allan asked.

We then made our way up to the fourth floor where there were a series of before and after photographs. Barren land had regrown some. South Africa seemed a little more green, not teeming with life, though certainly much improved. I felt a small flicker of hope.

I went to South Africa about 2 years ago and though I had a series of unfortunate incidents, I also had a set of really incredible circumstances that endeared me to that country and its people. I’m sure I’ll return some day soon. While there seems to be no hope in the structures of shanty towns that can be found throughout the country, there is a great deal of strength and ambition in the eyes of South Africans. They seem to always be looking up and over, at something brighter and better in the distance.

The handful of before and after photographs got me to thinking about how hope and life can regenerate without any outside influence. The first law of thermodynamics involves the conservation of energy and it states that energy cannot be created nor destroyed. In Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, he reveals to us that while the first law of thermodynamics holds true, energy can transform into mass, and vice versa. As I viewed the photos of South Africa, particularly the before and after photos, I thought about Einstein’s theory and how it applies to broader circumstances outside of science.

It seems to me that the re-growth of life, mass, could be due to the fact that energy, hope, cannot be created nor destroyed. It just is, then, now, and always. While it may change forms and go into hiding from time to time, we can be sure that it is always there, available to us if only we have the insight to recognize it.

books, friendship, The Journal of Cultural Conversation, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Success in Writing

Christa Avampato

“To appreciate beauty; to give of one’s self, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived — that is to have succeeded.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Last week I sent an email off to a nonfiction writer whose work I greatly admire. She writes the histories of people who defied odds to create something truly remarkable in the world. I wanted to interview her for The Journal of Cultural Conversation. I was delighted when she emailed me immediately to say she’d love to be featured. I fired off a set of questions to her and waited for her response.

As I read her answers, I found myself nodding my head in full agreement with everything she said. Until I got to the final question: “What advice do you have for aspiring writers?” Her response: “Honestly, we’re in such a difficult time for non-fiction writers because the Internet has blown up the longtime economic models, I’m not sure how newcomers are supposed to make a living. I started off in newspapers and then briefly free-lanced for magazines. What newspapers are hiring today and what’s the future of magazines? The on-line sites pay nothing or tiny amounts. Ebooks may well undermine the publishing model that makes sizable advances possible. So, I truly don’t know how young writers will develop paying careers. And I find that sad.” Ouch.

I sat back at my desk and let out a long, slow sigh. I can’t possibly publish that answer with the interview. And then I considered why I was so resistant to that answer. After all, this writer sent me this very honest answer, and I always want honesty from people I interview. I don’t want candy-coated metaphors. Tell me what you think and how you feel. She did, and now I’m upset. Not exactly fair of me, is it?

Let’s consider this from her point of view – she’s a very established writer. She’d put out tomes that are the definitive works of the people she’s written about. She’s in the industry of publishing and she’s frustrated by the changes she sees occurring. We’re all entitled to feel frustrated from time to time. Maybe she was in a bad mood when she got my email. Maybe she was hungry – I get cranky when I’m hungry, too.

In this conversation with myself, I had to ask the question, “why am I doing this? All this writing? What am I trying to do here?” Recently a friend of mine questioned my motive about my writing. Out of concern, the friend thinks I might be wasting my time with all this work. At first this comment really hurt me, particularly because I have always been so encouraging of this friend. With this question before me, an answer quickly and easily surfaced, much to my surprise.

I’m not trying to make a living as a writer. I make a good living as a product developer, and I enjoy that work immensely. But it’s not my life. Writing is helping me build a life I’m happy with and proud of. It’s helping me to connect with interesting, passionate, inspiring people. I learn so much through these connections. And most of all, my writing is helping others. I get emails, texts, phone calls, and online comments on a variety of sources about how much my posts have helped them. It’s humbling. With writing, I’m doing some good in the world, and that’s all I’m really after.

The author I interviewed may be absolutely right – perhaps the publishing / writing paradigm has shifted forever due to technological advances. Maybe a career like hers, the way that she built it, just isn’t going to be possible going forward. And that’s just fine with me. Change arrives on our doorstep every moment, and there’s no way to shut it out. We can’t stop the world from transforming. What we can do, and what I try to do everyday, is show up in the world, tell my stories with honesty and grace, with the hope that some of them resonate with another soul. That’s really all I ever need in this life – to reach out, connect, and feel like I’m part of the global conversation.

community service, happiness, passion, volunteer, women

My Year of Hopefulness – Our Best Help

Christa Avampato

“Anybody can serve….You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.” ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

I’ve been doing some work with New York Women Social Entrepreneurs (NYWSE), a group dedicated to helping women launch and run successful social enterprises that have a profound impact on our society. Through a recent NYWSE event, I found A. Lauren Abele’s blog. Lauren “is an economic development program assistant at a community development nonprofit in Brooklyn. By night, Lauren volunteers with other nonprofits helping them with fund development, strategic planning, and social media. She is one of the 2009 NYWSE Mastermind-Mentoring Initiative (MMI) graduates and big-time NYWSE advocate.”

This week she posted her thoughts on how best to help a cause you care about. Her post really resonated with me. In relation to my post from yesterday about doing things we don’t know how to do, Lauren advocates for helping the cause, any cause that interests us, by channeling our own special gifts and talents. If we want to make a difference, we can figure out how best to do that by delving deep within our own hearts. Just begin. We best help the cause by being who we are.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about fitting into a form versus creating a form around our own passions. It’s a very different intention, a very different way of considering service. If we approach service first from the perspective of “what do I love to do, what am I good at, and when am I happiest?” and then find the circumstances that best showcase those activities, we’ll achieve our highest potential.

Lauren’s shining a light on something very profound. Consider this: let’s say that you are passionate about the environment. There are so many options for you to really lend a hand to this cause. You could work with your local park or community garden. You could organize a recycling event in your neighborhood. You could support local farmers. You could write about the cause, sharing your knowledge and interest in the subject with others. There a million ways to play a part – all that’s required is that you care and then channel that care into an activity that brings you joy.

It sounds so simple and yet we spend so much time trying to do what’s “right” for the cause, what we think the cause needs, rather than taking what we do well and doing that for the cause’s benefit. Really what’s right for the cause is that we just be present, that we contribute in some way that’s uniquely, beautifully us.

The image above can be found here.