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.
dreams, legacy, memory

My Year of Hopefulness – Judged by the heart

Christa Avampato

“When you meet a man, you judge him by his clothes; when you leave, you judge him by his heart.” ~ Russian Proverb

This quote reminds me of a recent discussion I had about legacy building. The discussion got me thinking about what remains of us when we leave and how what we want to remain effects what we build right now. I can’t say for sure what specifics I’d like to be remembered for, what one or two things I’d like to build during my time here that will last well into the future. I can say that there are certain sentiments that I hope will be a part of my legacy.

I hope that I am remembered as someone with great heart and compassion and empathy, someone who always considered walking in the shoes of others before passing any kind of judgment. I’d like the words “concern” and “commitment” to appear numerous times in my history. That my integrity remained intact through challenging and easy times. Someone who had dreams and pursued them, while also encouraging and fostering the dreams of others.

I’d like to look back on my life with no regrets, no missed opportunities, having gained and lost in large amounts because I was always willing to take a leap of faith. Someone who remained hopeful in the face of despair, calm in the presence of tension, always looking up even when circumstances at eye level were dire. Having done the very best with what I had, maintained grace and kindness and wonder. That this world be a happier, more peaceful, creative place because I passed this way. Most of all, I hope that I am remembered as someone who rose to my potential while also reaching down to help others rise, too.

There’s a lot of pressure in the world around us to look, feel, and act a certain way, pressure to conform and take the journey that’s the easiest, safest, and most secure. Just because a path has very little resistance doesn’t mean it’s the right path for us. Finding our calling, building our legacy, takes more effort than just following the easy road. It involves knowing who are, and more importantly, who we are capable of becoming. It involves listening to the heart as sincerely as we listen to the mind.

creativity, dreams, friendship, imagination

My Year of Hopefulness – Imagination as reality

Christa Avampato

“Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.” ~ John Lennon

I read this quote from John Lennon on my friend, Col’s, blog. She’s in the midst of some tough circumstances in her life, and her beautiful, honest writing about it is courageous to say the least. I highly recommend it for a daily dose of inspiration.

Reality sometimes gets a bad rap. “You’ve got to be realistic.” “Come back down to reality.” “Wait until reality sets in.” Awful. Any time someone tells me I have to do something, that I need to go back down somewhere, or something is going to invade and set in, I shutter. Why can’t our lives be like we imagine them to be? Who decided my reality for me, without my consultation?

Without imagination, we get a reality we don’t want. We could take Lennon’s sentiment one step further and say our reality is actually defined by our imagination. What kind of job do we really want to go to everyday? What kind of relationships and friendships do we want? Where do we want to live, what do we want to do, and who do we want to be? It’s all possible.

I’ve been having so many conversations with friends recently about the shape they’d like their lives to take. The one common question that is the root for them all is “do you really think I can do this? Can I really make this happen?” And my response is always the same. A) of course you can and B) no one else is going to make your life happen the way you want it to happen. It’s a personal commitment to go out there and get everything in life you want. Our imagination is the only limitation.

friendship, generosity, gifts

My Year of Hopefulness – The high value of giving

Christa Avampato

Finally settled into my dear friend, Rob’s, apartment for the week, I am feeling an immense sense of calm. As the last of my belongings were expertly ushered out of my old apartment with the greatest of care by the movers, I was doing a little dance of gratitude.

My friend, Dan, was one of the people who recommended Flat Rate Moving to me, and I texted him to ask how much I should tip them. We went back and forth several times about an appropriate amount. Finally, Dan said “In these situations I reason that they need it more than I do, so I round up.” I emptied my wallet to double the going industry tip rate (which Dan also looked up for me on the fly, as well as surveying everyone in his office on the spot.) They deserved it.

I swept up the last of the dust bunnies, and grabbed a cab cross-town to Rob’s. Given the gridlock traffic, I had a lot of time to think about giving more than the going rate for exceptional circumstances. Whether it’s a tip to movers or the amount of time and attention to a valuable friendship, it feels good to give far beyond the usual.

So what if we always gave a little more than what was warranted? A little more care, energy, effort, passion, time, and money? What if we shared beyond what would ever be expected by others? Imagine how much further along we’d be. It seems to me that the only way we’re ever going to have a life and a world that’s exceptional is to give and give and give again. More than we’re asked, and maybe even more than we think we’re capable of.

forgiveness, home, moving, New York City, worry

My Year of Hopefulness – Seized Engine

Christa Avampato

The movers from Flatrate Moving have arrived! Only about an hour late – though very nice guys. I’ll take late but nice; far better than on-time and cranky. They were late because they put the wrong fuel in the truck, or someone at the company did. They had to go get a Budget rental truck to complete my move. I can’t imagine how nerve-wracking it is to be a mover.

I thought I was anxious about the move because I would watch all my stuff being carted away – off to storage for two weeks – hoping I’ll see it again in some decent form. Turns out I was anxious for an entirely different reason which I only realized while talking to my sister, Weez. I was worried I’d disappoint my movers. Did I pack the boxes incorrectly? Did I not use enough tape? Did I pack too much in them. Are they going to be cursing my name and playing catch with my belongings?

As Weez pointed out, this is ridiculous, especially considering that I triple taped every box, put my initials and box numbers on at least 3 sides of each box, and set them out in numerical order. (I feel my OCD coming out.) They had their engine seize and were late – they felt badly about it; I was worried about the packing of my boxes and I felt badly about it. We worry so much about disappointing one another; as it turns out, the cure to disappointment is forgiveness and understanding – something we can all do.

One of my movers looked around at my things and said, “this is it?” “Yep, minus the lamps – I’m giving those away to goodwill this afternoon.” “Don’t worry,” he said. “We plan for everything – it will all be fine.” Were my nerves showing?

And then my landlady, Ann-Marie stopped by, to inquire about the keys, my forwarding address, etc. She gave me a hug, kissed me on the check, and wished me well. Since I’ll still be in the neighborhood, I’ll be seeing them around. She and her husband, Joe, have been very good to me, and I appreciate everything they did to help me in my transition back to NYC two years ago.

30 minutes after their arrival, the move’s almost done. The wondrous sound of packing tape are the background music for this post and it’s music to my ears; maybe my triple taping wasn’t enough. No problem though, the movers have me covered. The knots in my stomach are finally beginning to disappear.

home, moving, New York City

My Year of Hopefulness – A Sea of Brown Boxes

Christa Avampato

I’m writing to you tonight atop of a sea of brown boxes containing the tangible contents of my life. The sorting and packing processes are complete. Everything’s taped up, awaiting the movers who arrive bright and early tomorrow morning at 9.

Because my new apartment’s renovations won’t be complete until mid-August, my belongings are headed for the world of storage for safe keeping. I’ll be staying with friends with only two suitcases and a backpack. I still think I’ve overpacked for two weeks. (Do I really need those pink espadrilles for the next 14 days?)

To give myself some peace of mind, I started making an inventory of what’s contained in each box – just a general overview – in the event that my things get misplaced during the move. Trouble is that I thought I could remember what they contained after I’d sealed them. Turns out I haven’t the faintest idea of what’s inside about half of them. Now this could be because it’s nearly midnight and I’m tired. It could be because I’m in post-packer’s coma, and more than slightly incoherent after a long, long day of packing, cleaning, and tossing.

It would be nice to use a logical excuse here to explain my forgetfulness. Truthfully, I know why I can’t remember what’s in half these boxes – because it doesn’t matter. I’m not a “things” person. Why do I need 25 brown Home Depot boxes packed to the gills and sealed with duct tape? I don’t – and even though I sent a lot of my belongings out to retirement, I still have much more than I thought I did. And much more than I actually need.

Too late now, though. Flatrate Moving will be ringing up my Amex card around 10am tomorrow for a larger amount than I ever imagined I’d pay for movers. My bed is calling me for one last rest within this apartment that has been an incubator of creativity and exploration for me these last two years. It’s been a fun ride. New adventures in a new space are already calling me, and being a person who is unable to turn down adventure, I must answer them.

books, New York City, teaching

My Year of Hopefulness – Teachers

Christa Avampato

“It’s lovely to know that the world can’t interfere with the inside of your head.” ~ Frank McCourt

Daily Good wrote a beautiful tribute to Frank McCourt today. Mr. McCourt passed away last week after having written a set of prize-winning books regarding his childhood in Ireland and his career teaching in New York City public schools. I love those books; I began reading them when I first moved to New York 11 years ago. Having gone to public school myself, his stories brought back some fun memories from my own childhood and gave me a new perspective on teaching and writing.

Now years later, I volunteer with Junior Achievement of New York, teaching in New York City public schools. I should revisit his second book, Teacher Man, to refresh my memory and learn from his. His book would also be useful as I prepare to pitch a pilot project that I’d like to launch in a New York public school in January. That’s the beauty of writing out our stories and lessons learned – they invariably help someone else down the line. Mr. McCourt is a wonderful example to illustrate that it’s never too late to tell your story; he published his first book, Angela’s Ashes, when he was 66. It won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award.

The Daily Good post got me thinking about all of the incredible teachers I’ve been fortunate to have all my life. Though I went to public school in a rural town in upstate New York, I had teachers who believed in me and inspired me every day. It is a rare gift, and I never took it for granted. I’ve been thinking lately that I should break out my stacks of stationery and write them all letters to thank them for giving their lives to help people like me.

I went on to attend two wonderful universities, also with a slate of brilliant and inspiring teachers. Through my life I’ve had a few constants – my mom and my cell phone number immediately come to mind. And I always had the benefit of excellent teachers.

Teachers don’t get enough credit or praise. Their hours are long and yet some people discount teaching as a profession because many have their summers off. In truth, they put in a whole lot of extra time over the 9 months when school is in session, much more time than a lot of people in corporate jobs.

When I worked at Rollins College, Doc Rodgers, one of the theatre professors would joke that he was heading off to class to “shape young minds”. And while he always said it in jest, it’s absolutely true. Teachers take this responsibility of shaping young minds very seriously, and we should, too, by supporting them and thanking them for all that they’ve done and will continue to do on our behalf. Our futures depend on them.

The photo above is Frank McCourt in his New York City classroom.
apartment, business, entrepreneurship, Examiner, home, New York City, rent, technology

NY Business Strategies Examiner – Interview with Lee Lin, co-founder of RentHop

Christa Avampato

It’s moving time again! I’ve been thinking a lot about the moving process and the hunt for apartment lately. I’ll move into my new digs next month and the movers arrive this Thursday. I can be a stressful undertaking, especially Around August 1st when the rush of students and new college graduates is hard to miss!

Looking for a little sanity in your apartment search? Enter RentHop – an innovative new service that allows would-be renters to browse free, no -fee listings in the New York City area. I had the opportunity to speak with Lee Lin, co-founder of RentHop.

For the full story, click here.

art, friendship, mistakes, passion

My Year of Hopefulness – Building a World Out of Creativity, Mistakes, and Art

Christa Avampato

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” ~ Howard Thurman

“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.”
~ Scott Adams (Dilbert)

Both of these quotes were provided by my friend, Amanda Hirsch. Amanda is the author of Creative DC, a blog about living a creative life in DC. She found me online while looking for blogs about New York City. After clicking through to my resume, she found that we have just about all the same interests and graduated from the same university, the same year. (It’s a big school so sadly we didn’t meet way back when.)

It’s these online connections to creative, inspiring people that keeps me writing. They make all this effort worthwhile. There are a plethora of interesting, engaging people out there, spread out all over the map. Writing online gives us a way to find each other.

And this brings me to the reason that Amanda’s first quote really got to me. It would be very easy to just look around and see what the world needs, and then go make that. That’s certainly a viable road to entrepreneurship. Trouble is that method doesn’t necessarily get our internal motors running.

Running a business, heck writing a regular blog, takes an incredible amount of dedication and time. There are nights that I have to stay in and write, and I love that. When I’m writing, I don’t feel like I’m missing out on doing something else. I’m passionate about this art form, and have made a conscious decision to become a better writer. That’s going to take time. Point is, I didn’t look around and say “what the world needs is another person to write about creativity.” I’m interested in creativity and writing. They make me come alive – and me coming alive can go a long toward making the world around me a better place to be.

Finally, this point brings me to Amanda’s second quote. There are a lot of times that a whole lot of nonsense flows from my keyboard. The wording is awkward. I can’t turn a phrase properly. I have a tough time translating my thoughts into words that other people understand. I edit as much as I actually write. The creativity piece involves throwing down everything on the page. Forget about beauty and style and grace. Just get the thought down. Editing is the real art – knowing what to keep and what to toss away so that the necessary can speak.

Our world is built around creativity, mistakes, and art. From the buildings we occupy to the streets we walk to the businesses we frequent. These three things are inextricably intertwined. And while the result isn’t perfect, it’s beautiful and unique and interesting – exactly the way the world should be.

choices, discovery, friendship, hope, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Disappointment as Fuel for Change

Christa Avampato

“We must accept finite disappointment, but we must never lose infinite hope.” ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

I’m now nearly 7 months through my 1 year commitment to actively search for hope every day and write about it. I’m in the thick of it and the remaining months of 2009 seem to be just around the bend. This is the side effect of working in a retail-focused business: I’m always one step ahead of myself because the industry I work in demands it. Looking for hope is sometimes an easy task and sometimes a game of hunt and peck. Some days I struggle to find something hopeful and positive, and other days it seems that the world is awash with hope, so much so that it’s hard to take it all in and stay still long enough to write about it. It’s these latter days that I try to focus on most.

I’ve become a fan of daily email delivery of my favorite blogs. I get why tools like Google Reader are valuable; I just prefer to use my gmail inbox as my to-do list. (Thank you, David Pogue, for that insight on email in-boxes!) And I like the idea that my favorite writers are sending me little bits of wisdom directly, or at least I feel like they’re sending them to me directly. Daily Good, a blog that posts a daily story about some piece of goodness in the world, is one of my favorites. Their stories always begin with a quote, and it’s responsible for many of the quotes that populate my “food for thought” section in the right side bar of this blog.

This week Daily Good posted up the quote above from Martin Luther King, Jr. He could have easily made the quote “We must accept disappointment, but we must never lose hope.” Still powerful, still emotional, still inspirational. Instead, he chose to talk about finite disappointment and infinite hope, and link the two together. In my 7 months of writing about hope, I have found disappointment. More than I would have liked.

Just this week, I decided I had accepted enough disappointment. I’d reached the finite limit that Dr. King spoke about and then decided that I could no longer wait to do what I really wanted to do. With the help of some friends who help me think clearly, who help to bolster me up when I get a little bit down, I made a plan to turn all of my attention to what I hope to achieve and away from what’s disappointed me. The hope was there all along, even through the disappointment. I just wasn’t seeing it. We can all do a lot more than hope for a change; there will be no grand arrival and entrance of change. It’s always there – we need only reach out and grab a hold of it.

art, career, choices, dreams, friendship, goals

My Year of Hopefulness – Finishing what you’ve started

Christa Avampato

“Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task.” ~ William James

I have a hard time letting things go. I have to watch movies straight through to the end, no matter how bad they are. I have to finish every book I start. Nothing causes me to lose sleep more than tasks hanging around for me to finish tomorrow; hence my tremendous lack of sleep in a partially packed apartment. Why is it so troublesome to let things lie around undone?

It could be that I’ve read too many stories about people who didn’t quite get to see their dreams realized. It could be that I’ve read that quote from John Lennon “Most people die with the music still in them” once too often. I don’t want to look back and be so far away from something I started that it’s too difficult to pick it up again.

We get to these points in our lives where we must go left or right and it’s very hard to double back once we’ve made a choice. Not impossible, but certainly difficult. I’m there now. A lot of my friends are there now. Maybe this is the dilemma we find in our 30’s. We are making choices now that impact every other choice down the line. We’re deciding who we’re going to become, how we’re going to make use of our talents, how the world around us is going to be different because we passed this way instead of that way.

And while I have a natural instinct of which way to go at this fork in the road, the choice in my heart is a tough one. It’s got some risks baked into it. It’s not the safe route. Some times I think the choice in my heart isn’t even the sane route to take. Then again, when has making the sane, safe choice ever lead me to complete fulfillment?

Today I went to a baby shower for my friend, Alex. One of her college friends made a critical choice to leave behind the business world and pursue her PhD in art history, thanks to Alex’s encouragement. She loved art history early on in college and had given up her dream to work in that field to take the safe business route. Before it was too late, she went back to what she loved.

Every one of her professors told her this choice was ridiculous, that she was truly wasting her life in art history, that she’d never get a job. One of them actually told her that a degree in art history and a quarter wouldn’t even get her a cup of coffee. Now she works in New York and helps corporations and nonprofits build their private art collections. Turns out that a degree in art history has earned her much more than a cup of coffee. It helped her earn a happy life. The rewards of finishing what she started and following her heart.