Category: children

children, education, family, legacy, social work, time

My Year of Hopefulness – Rich in Time

Christa Avampato

“An unhurried sense of time is in itself a form of wealth.” ~Bonnie Friedman

I am obsessed with time. Spending time. Saving time. Wasting time. The perception of time. The concepts of aging and growing and changing over time. And of course, the ultimate time question – how much time do we have left? Time is the only asset we ever truly own because we determine its value and worth.

The aspect of time that intrigues me the most is one I first learned in my college economics classes – leverage. How do I use my time as wisely as possible to do the most good I can? How do I get the maximum impact with the minimum amount time? The odd unintended blessing of losing a parent so young is that I stare my mortality in the face every day. If I want to accomplish everything I want to do, I have to utilize the idea of leverage. Our days pass too quickly, our time is too precious, to start every new idea from scratch.

The point Bonnie Friedman raises in her quote is one that leaves me scratching my head. I am always in a hurry – walking down the street, getting my errands done, eating, writing. I zip through as fast as possible so I can get on to what’s next. Where I struggle is how to enjoy each activity without thinking about what’s next? How can I be in the moment, this moment, every moment, without causing myself unintended stress from hurrying from point A to point B and back again?

My fear is that I’m missing out. I was recently telling my sister, Weez, that I really wanted to do something and her immediate response was, “let’s face it: if you decide you’re really going to do something, you make it happen.” At that point my question to myself was, “at what cost?” The trouble that over-committers like me face is this: how do I say no without feeling guilty? When there are so many people out there who need what we all have to offer, when I see so many ways for me to make things better, how do I decide this thing is important and needs my attention and that one does not?

The education program I’m working on has actually helped me begin to find some answers to these questions. I’ve been kicking around this idea, writing drafts of the white paper, meeting with potential partners, and asking for honest feedback on the idea from friends and colleagues since April. And every time I sit down to work on it, every time the idea even crosses my mind, I get a little jolt of energy and excitement that keeps on growing. The more I work on it, the more alive I feel. I’m so certain I can make a difference in this way, with this curriculum, that there isn’t any way that I can conceive of turning back now. I feel about this project the way that I feel about my writing – it’s becoming a very integral part of who I am.

And maybe that’s the trick. Maybe all our hurrying is caused by our desire to find where we belong. Once we find it, we can enjoy this wealth of unhurried time, as Bonnie Friedman suggests, because there is no ‘next’. We’re here, where we always wanted to be.

My dad was a clinical psychologist and his work was his life. He never felt hurried in his office, at his great mahogany desk surrounded by his books and papers and patients. He loved his studies in that field more than he loved anything. It may have been his only love now that I think of it. In some way, I sort of feel like this education project is helping me understand him, helping me see why his work was so important to him.

His last job before leaving the work force was as a school psychologist in Harlem. I always wondered why he was so eager to hop on a train that took him to the big City to help other kids while my mother was left to work and raise us on her own. Now that I’ve spent some time in public schools in New York, I understand. The problems and challenges are so great, and the opportunity to do something good in that environment is immense. The impact is immediate. Like him, I keep thinking about those tiny faces and those solemn eyes who wanted assurances that I would be back to see them again. He couldn’t let them down. I can’t either.

Though he’s been gone now 17 years, perhaps there is a way for me to still get to know him. Perhaps this drive to do some good in the public schools of New York City is much more than just my way of giving back. And maybe this is some kind of calling that’s coming from afar, some way to continue work, albeit in a different vein, that was begun so many years ago by my dad and the many people who were doing this work long before him. It’s a way to leverage the work of the past to create brighter futures, my own and the kids I hope to help. No hurrying required, and much wealth to gain.

The photo above can be found here.

child, children, family, kids, language, New York City, speech

My Year of Hopefulness – The Gift of Gab

Christa Avampato

My family is loaded with talkers. My mother taught us well. We have strong opinions and we claim them loud, proud and often. I didn’t know there was a developmental advantage to this trait until my friend, Liz, told me that by age 3 it becomes very obvious which children come from families who talk to their children regularly and those who don’t. Children from families who talk to them often have triple the vocabulary when compared to children who come from families that don’t talk to their babies and toddlers.

I wasn’t quite sure what Liz meant at first. What family doesn’t speak to their children? And then I started to observe a little more closely. On the streets of New York and in the subways, I have seen too many adults ignore the children they’re with. They don’t answer their questions and concerns, or when they do it’s with a harsh tone. Too many sit with their children and don’t interact with them. It’s a prevalent, serious issue.

Sometimes I’ll hear people on the subway talking to their children so much, in sing-songy language seemingly about nothing at all, that it actually drives me to move. Little did I know that these adults are doing a wonderful thing – they are advancing their children’s mental capacity for language and understanding. These children are the writers and thinkers of tomorrow. These children are just like me, with adults who love them with their hearts and words, exactly the way my mom did. And this knowledge is making me smile on my subway rides next to little talkative kids. Gab on…

children, creativity, entrepreneurship, family, innovation

My Year of Hopefulness – Better is good enough

Christa Avampato

My friend, Lon, sent me an email today that made me consider the value and under-appreciation of incremental improvement.

“The future of America is not in the hands of GM, the government, or the military. It is in the hands of our innovative entrepreneurs. Most of them do “it” just a little bit different than what is out there now. They are not the Apple’s of the world. They are those that look for incremental improvement. Those incremental improvements have built America and will save it now from itself. I’m thinking … for the first time in my life, I am developing the resolve to make it happen.”

Consider how often people seek to be the next big thing rather than the next better thing. We give up on good in our quest for perfect, personally and professionally. We look for people to save us, to make things easier for us, to be our inspiration. It is time for all of us to realize that our greatest hope for improvements lie in slow, steady change for the better and the best source of that change stares at us every morning in the mirror.

Think about how much we could do if we recognized and nurtured the belief that we were empowered to improve every part of our lives, even if that improvement is small. Children don’t know the phrase “that’s just the way it is.” This dreaded idea is something that is drilled into us by other adults. Instead, children look at suboptimal situations and say, “why don’t we do this instead?”. They are natural-born innovators and change-makers. They always seek constant improvement.

Children are not perfectionists. That perfectionist streak is something we learn as adults. Children seek to make things better, whether by a little or a lot. They play and explore and iterate. They’re flexible and adaptable. They believe in the concepts of better and original and good effort. They’re kind to themselves and to others. Their first thoughts upon encountering a difficult situation are “why?” and then “why not?”

Lon is getting back to these beliefs, and we all need to follow his lead. Thinking like children may be the very thing that saves us from ourselves.

business, career, children, entrepreneurship, fear, rejection

My Year of Hopefulness – Fear #2 of entrepreneurship

Christa Avampato

“No one will want the product or service my business produces.”

This is the #2 fear of entrepreneurship for me, the second in a series that I’m doing after being inspired by Gary Novosel, Founder of The Food Medic. In our interview, he gave a piece of advice that really resonated with me: if you’re afraid of starting your business, write all your fears down, and then put them aside. So here we go, fear #2 – no one will want what I’m trying to sell.

Isn’t that the age old story of rejection – people won’t like me, I won’t be good enough, or, the worst – I won’t be relevant. What I say and think and do will not matter and no one will care. Ouch – painful ideas and thoughts that we work very hard to suppress, and yet at least at one moment of weakness in our lives, we’ve all felt them.

One of the fun things of starting a business and making a product or service is continuous improvement. The enemy of good is perfection – so don’t wait perfection to get the idea out the door. If you do, that product will never see the light of day. You’ll tweak and tweak and tweak, until someone else beats you to the punch and puts together a similar idea.

And what’s the very worst that can happen? People won’t by what we make, we’ll get feedback, change the product, and try again. Not so bad, right? Or maybe it’s just not reaching the right audience, or a wide enough audience. Or maybe it’s an idea that just needs time in order to b adopted by the market.

I was thinking about this fear all day today, wondering how I’d write this post and put it in perspective. As I rounded the corner toward my apartment this evening, a bunch of little kids ran up to me to drag me to their lemonade / cookie stand. For $0.10 I could get my choice of a cookie or a glass of lemonade, or for $0.20 I could get both. These kids did not have one bit of fear telling me about their business and the cost of the goods they were selling. I envied them.

I walked toward my apartment, happily eating my chocolate chip cookie, and honestly, it was the best cookie I’ve ever had. Entrepreneurship is alive and well among kids, so couldn’t we just model our own behavior after their fearlessness? It’s at least worth a try.

animals, art, children, dreams, photographs

My Year of Hopefulness – The Art of Gregory Colbert

Christa Avampato

I recently purchased a print by photographer Gregory Colbert. I am in love with his work because it lifts me up in a way that is wholly different from most other fine art. He’s famous for his sepia-toned photographs of people interacting with animals. A boy in Mexico reads a story to an elephant, a gymnast swims with whales, a child crouches down beside a leopard.

The images are striking in their simplicity and their profound belief that animals and people can co-exist peacefully and for mutual benefit. I find that they are images that help me to meditate and center my mind that runs at a million miles an hour these days. I never grow tired of looking at them, imagining the stories behind those photographs. I ask myself so many questions as I look at them: how did this animal and this person come to be in the same place? How do they know each other? What were they doing just before and what did they do just after the photo was taken?

This is the beauty of art like Gregory Colbert’s: it allows us to imagine the improbable, it takes us on a journey that we would never go on otherwise, and it inspires us to dream. Through good art, we actually grow our idea of the world around us and can begin to see our role in the world with fresh eyes. All of sudden we realize that the improbable is not impossible. All things become likely.

child, childhood, children, family, New York City

My Year of Hopefulness – Ball, Dog, and Oprah

Christa Avampato

I spent this weekend with my niece, Lorelei. She’s one year old and came to New York to visit me with my sister and brother-in-law. We’ve been playing in the park, at the Children’s Museum, FAO. She is running around, beginning to say words that actually sound like words, and tearing up everything in her path. She gives me hope.

It’s easy to look at the situation directly in front of us and feel like it might not be such a good idea to get out of bed. Spending time with children forces you to take the long view. Some day they will grow up, they will continue on their respective paths. Every day they are learning something new. They discover and wonder at every moment, and we discover along with them. Her best words at the moment are ball, dog, and Oprah. I’ve never had such fun say those words, or any words for that matter, as I have saying them with Lorelei.

I think whether or not you want to have kids of your own is irrelevant. I do think spending time with them in some way, whether they’re nieces and nephews, kids of friends, kids you coach, teach, or volunteer with, they will change your life by changing the way you view life and the world we live in. They really are the most optimistic people you can ever meet. And in time when so many people feel like they’re down and out, it helps to spend time with kids who feel that their best times are yet to come.

books, child, childhood, children

My Year of Hopefulness – Dr. Seuss’s Birthday

Christa Avampato

Today 105 years ago, the world received the gift of Dr. Seuss. His work has been a part of nearly every American childhood since World War II. Through his furry, colorful creatures and rhyming prose, he has inspired us, taught us, and given us clarity during the hazy, difficult transitions of childhood. I have several Dr. Seuss books and every once in a while when I have had a really tough day, I take them down from my bookshelves and flip through the pages.

His creativity and ability to be poignant without being preachy or intimidating has won him fans the world over. How the Grinch Stole Christmas is a holiday tradition in my family. We can recite the entire movie, sing the songs, and even do impressions of the characters. Though I never met Dr. Seuss, he was an influential part of my childhood and continues to be an influential part of my adult years. A copy of Oh, The Places You’ll Go! was my favorite graduation gift and I’m not ashamed to admit that there are times when I have gone back and re-read it because I felt disappointed by some part of my life. Dr. Seuss helped me keep my head up, even when my morale was down.

So dear Dr. Seuss, happy, happy 105th birthday and thank you for creating timeless tales that have kept us feeling hopeful even during bleak and uncertain times. We need you now more than ever.

The image above appears courtesy of Google and Dr. Seuss Enterprises.

charity, child, childhood, children, health, healthcare, philanthropy

March of Dimes Petition for Preemies

Christa Avampato

My friends over at the March of Dimes have put together a campaign to address the health and well-being of the tiniest members of our communities. They put up a beautiful post on their website and I want to share it with all of you:


Petition for Preemies

My best friend just gave birth to her first child – a baby girl named Milana.  I can’t tell you how excited I am to share in my best friend’s happiness!  But to be honest, I’m also a little nervous. That’s because Milana was born prematurely, and babies who are born preterm face special health risks.

Milana isn’t alone.  In the U.S., 1 in 8 babies are born prematurely. In fact, more newborns die from premature birth than any other cause. That’s why I signed the March of Dimes Petition for Preemies.

The Petition for Preemies will help give all babies a healthy start by putting public officials – and all Americans – on notice that it’s time to focus on the growing problem of premature birth.

Show your support by joining thousands of other moms in signing thePetition for Preemies. If you’re a blogger, write a post about this issue or put our purple widget or button on your blog. Get information about how you can help more babies come into the world healthy.

Thankfully, Milana is home now and doing just fine.  Let’s help more moms have healthy babies!

Want to lend a hand in the effort? Sign the petition:http://www.marchofdimes.com/padpetition/index.aspx?a=1&z=1&c=1&l=en

cancer, charity, children, cooking, design, food, philanthropy

Cupcakes for a Cause

Christa Avampato

That delightful time of year has arrived again: the leaves are changing, the air is crisp, and we can stuff our faces with the sweet, yummy goodness of cupcakes while doing some good in the world. The annual celebration of Cupcakes for a Cause kicked off today to benefit Cancercare for Kids. For the remainder of this week you can help the organization by picking up the goods at local bakeries around the country, all conveniently listed by state on the causes’s website.

Watching your diet? No problem. For every e-cupcake you send through the site, $1 will be donated to the charity, up to a cap of $10,000. You have some controlled functionality to design your own virtual cupcake or choose from a selection of beautiful stock designs. I’ve been happily sending them out this evening to family and friends and it’s almost as much fun as baking them myself.

So what are you waiting for? No time like the present to gobble up some cupcake goodness and help a worthwhile charity, all in one delicious bite.

child, children, family, happiness, kids

The wonder of toes

Christa Avampato

My niece, Lorelei, has recently discovered the wonder of her toes, timed just after she discovered the excitement of rolling over all on her own. It’s the little things. I was considering this during my slog to work this morning, inching along in the rain for an hour and 15 minutes. And I thought about Lorelei playing her little game of rolling over from side to side and then getting those tiny wiggling toes into her mouth. She is excited about the discovery of life. And that made me wiggle my toes a bit too, and smile for being able to do so.

That’s the wonder of children – everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, is an exciting adventure to them. The gift of fresh eyes. So whether we have kids of our own, or in our family, or have friends with kids, or volunteer with kids, or have a job that involves kids, it is a gift to be around them. They’re teaching us, at every moment, about happiness and contentment and the magic that is all around us.