Category: education

career, design, dreams, education, innovation

My Year of Hopefulness – Use Design to Change Fist Stick Knife Gun

Christa Avampato

Over the past few weeks I have had a series of fortunate coincidences. I know the universe is always talking to us, that we are always in receipt of messages that connect us and bind us together, that point toward the way we are supposed to take. In my heart I know this, though given my surprisingly thick skull, those messages some times have difficulty reaching my brain. That surprisingly thick skull of mine often has to be clobbered over the head several times in order to “get it”.

The series of some of the fortunate events has unfolded as follows:
1.) A few weeks ago I had my very rough draft of Innovation Station, an after-school program, accepted by Citizen Schools, an outstanding organization that exists to help average folks like me put together a curriculum we’re passionate about to teach in public middle schools.

2.) Just about the same time that Citizen Schools accepted my proposal, my former boss, Bob, sent me an invitation to attend an event on design thinking hosted by the Rotman School of Management. Tim Brown, CEO of Ideo and one of the featured speakers at the event, just released his first book called Change by Design: How Design Thinking Transforms Organizations and Inspires Innovation. It is a powerful “blueprint for creative leaders” in a variety of sectors. Hmmm….sounds like a brilliant jumping off point for an after-school program about innovation, doesn’t it? (I’m attending the Rotman School event and writing about it for Examiner and for TJCC; I hope to meet Tim and get his take on Innovation Station.)

3.) This week I have come across dozens of articles about the renewed focus on after-school programs, both from a funding and legislative perspective. Here are some examples: Home Alone, Peering at the Future, The Uneducated American, Paterson Proposes Cuts to Close Deficit.

4.) Last week, my friend, Wayne, took me to the annual meeting for Children’s Health Fund, an organization that got its start at a grassroots level in one tiny area of Harlem and has grown to an international organization with the mission to advocate and assure healthcare for every child, everywhere. I want to do the same thing for education and their model and messaging is such an inspiration. They work with Harlem Children’s Zone, an organization started by Geoffrey Canada that is a holistic system of education, social-service and community-building programs aimed at helping the children and families in a 97-block area of Central Harlem.

5.) About a month ago, my friend, Dan, told me about a podcast that featured Geoffrey Canada. I just picked up his book Fist Stick Knife Gun: A Personal History of Violence in America. I can’t put it down and I think I just found my calling. I googled Harlem Children’s Zone tonight and discovered that the two schools where I will be teaching for Citizen Schools are in the same area as the Harlem Children’s Zone.

6.) My friend, Amanda Steinberg, and her company, Soapbxx, designed the Harlem Children’s Zone website.

7.) The PhD program I’ve been looking at within The New School was recently highlighted by Bruce Nussbaum, a journalist whom I greatly admire. He writes about design and innovation. He is a professor at Parsons, one of the other schools within The New School. He has been writing a lot about design thinking, social entrepreneurship, and Tim Brown’s book. He believes that Design Thinking can transform systems like healthcare and education. So do I. So do a growing number of people. This is about to get very exciting.

As I was getting off the subway tonight and heading home I had the distinct feeling that there is no turning back for me now. I finally get what the universe is trying to tell me. I will not be able to sit still knowing that what I have to offer in the way of business, product development, an appreciation for design, and a passion for education as a tool to build a solid future, so clearly matches an unmet need in the world. This is the mash-up of work I was meant to do.

This journey was a long one. My life’s work has been in front of me all along, since I was a kid facing a lot of the struggles that too many kids face. I just didn’t know that it should or could be the work of my life. It took me the better part of 33 years to figure out what I was meant to do with my time here. And now that I know, the fear has dissipated completely. The anxiety about my future evaporated and has been replaced by only excitement and a feeling of purpose. Goethe would tell us that there is magic in commitment. He was right. I know that now.

I had lots of wrong turns, lots of dead-ends, and lots of disappointments. Nothing ever felt right, though I had a ton of fun in the exploration process. I wouldn’t change any of it. I’m just grateful and glad that I won’t have to die with the music still in me, as John Lennon lamented about so many people. Finally, finally, finally I know I’m on the cusp of my life’s work. It’s stretched out before me like a beautiful winding road, and it’s time for me to hop aboard and get going. In those poignant, truthful words of Theodore Geisel, my mountain is waiting.

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

creativity, education, risk, school

My Year of Hopefulness – A Little Too Comfortable

Christa Avampato

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

business, children, dreams, education, innovation, philanthropy

My Year of Hopefulness – Citizen Schools

Christa Avampato

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

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

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

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


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


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


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


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


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

charity, children, education, hope, hunger, school, shopping

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

Christa Avampato

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

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



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



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



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

children, education, innovation, social entrepreneurship, theatre

My Year of Hopefulness – In the Beginning

Christa Avampato

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.” ~ Louis L’Amour


Today marked an end and then a beginning, in one single action. After almost a year of considering how I might help children in public schools in New York City, I mailed off two packages, one to Bronx Charter School for the Arts and one to M.S. 223. Inside the packages is a folder with a cover letter, my resume, and an 8-page concept paper that outlines an after-school program that I’d like to pilot beginning in January 2010. The after-school program uses theatre to teach innovation, product development, and entrepreneurship to 6th grade students.

The journey to the concept paper was a long and winding road:

Early Summer of 2008
Began to consider how I could build an on-line innovation kit for kids

August 2008
Changed jobs and got involved in an at-work volunteer program with Junior Achievement of New York. Wondered if I missed my calling and should become a public school teacher.

December 5, 2008
Volunteered for a day-long program at M.S. 223 in the Mott Haven neighborhood of the South Bronx. Felt scared, responsible, and at home, all at once. I taught economics for a day to 7th graders. I got more of an education than the students did that day. Have been thinking about those kids every day since.

May 17, 2009
Started building my first draft of the concept paper, initially named “Innovation Workbook”. It was terrible. I was afraid to show it to anyone because I’d thought they’d laugh at the idea. Put my fears aside and kept working.

June 3, 2009
Wrote the first draft of a mission statement, or what I termed “A Reason for Being”. It was awful, though I began to think that I might be on to something.

mid-June 2009
Began to talk to some friends about the concept. No one laughed; they got very excited about the idea and that got me more excited. They had great ideas. I used all of them to build a better concept. My friend, Liz, offered the idea to make this an after-school program rather than try to build it in to the traditional curriculum.

July 4th weekend, 2009
I started sending a rough draft of the concept paper to my friends who offered their ideas and were excited about the project. I knew the paper was terrible but the idea was getting better. My friends offered more help, more advice. The concept kept getting better.

July 23, 2009
Named the project Innovation Station while laying on my couch, unsuccessfully trying to take a nap. Decided to use short theatre scripts as a way to communicate the material.

Early August 2009
While reading the book, Eiffel’s Tower, decided to feature famous innovators throughout history as part of Innovation Station.

August 2009
Continued to revise the concept paper, did more research. Many friends suggested I dig into data to prove the need and value of my program. Was startled by the statistics I read about after-school programming and public school education in inner-cities. Kept shopping around my ideas and taking any and all suggestions. Wrote 8 full drafts in total.

September 15, 2009
Heard about Bronx Charter School for the Arts. Researched them and thought they may be a good fit for Innovation Station. Put them on the very short list with M.S. 223.

September 22, 2009, afternoon
Made a few last minute edits, and dropped the proposals in the mail to M.S. 223 and Bronx Charter School for the Arts in the hopes that one of them will be the pilot program location.

September 22, 2009, evening
Waiting. Hoping. Nervous Excited.

My friend, Jamie, went to the post office with me to put the packages in the mail. I adore him, even though he can be a little curmudgeonly at times. He is exceedingly generous with help, advice, and contacts, despite his rough around the edges personality. It comes from being so brilliant and highly educated. He is one of the friends I count on to keep me grounded. I try to add more whimsy into his life. “So what do you do now?” he asked. I hadn’t thought of what I’d do now; I guess I have been worried that I’d just edit myself to the point of being paralyzed. I never imagined myself sealing up the envelopes and dropping them in the mail. I guess I was worried that I’d never figure it out. “I wait,” I said to Jamie.

This morning, my old friends, Fear and Self-ridicule, were back with a vengeance. Maybe this was a stupid idea. Maybe it would never help anyone. Maybe no school would ever be interested. Who am I to think I can write curriculum? I began reading and editing again. And something truly miraculous happened. As I re-read the proposal, I got more excited. I began to think that maybe, maybe, maybe this was the beginning on the a life-changing road for me. Just as I was finishing the proposal, I thought “this might be the beginning of something really exciting. I just might be able to help some kid who’s facing the same circumstances I faced when I was that age.” And with that thought I sealed up the packages and headed for the post office.

Fearing that I’d have a last minute panic attack, I quickly put the packages under the slotted window for the postman to grab and stamp. There was no turning back once he tossed them into the bin. And away they went, into the abyss of mail, on a very simple mission to try to make a difference in one kid’s life. I ran for the door and never looked back. I had to get on with my beginning.
art, children, dreams, education, school

My Year of Hopefulness – Dreaming in Bits and Pieces

Christa Avampato

“The end of wisdom is to dream high enough to lose the dream in the seeking of it.” ~ William Faulkner, American novelist

Now that life is returning to normal, I’m turning my attention back to my education project. I’m in the early stages of contacting public schools to find one that will serve as a pilot test. In a nutshell, I am looking to use theatre as a tool to teach innovation and product development to 6th graders at New York City public schools. The program will be of no cost to the school or to the children who participate. I just need a space, an internet connection (if possible), and 10 curious 6th graders. I would personally finance the pilot. The idea is to run it for 12 weeks beginning in January of 2010.

At this point I’ve had about 15 people read the proposal and provide their feedback and suggestions. Their creativity and excitement has spurred me even further. They’re helping me dream bigger, far beyond the pilot. Just as Faulkner suggested, this thinking bigger has allowed me to move beyond just seeing this program as a dream. It’s something that I must do. It’s quickly becoming my greatest passion, and that’s exactly what I need to happen in order to get it off the ground.

For the past few days, it’s all I’ve been able to think about. Things I see and experience and read are all tying back to this dream. This morning I was so excited about it that I could barely stay in my chair at my computer. I’m getting little inputs from everywhere – what schools I could partner with, what material I should include, what mechanisms I should use to deliver the material. Like small interconnected building blocks, all these bits and pieces are fitting together, filling in the canvas I’m dreaming on.

The more I consider the pilot program, the more I realize that it is inevitable. All the clues I’m picking up are showing me that there is much more need for this program than I ever realized. It began as this tiny speck of an idea, and the more I nurture it and love it, the more new opportunities it presents. It’s the most beautiful thing about ideas and dreams, and people for that matter: the more care you put into them, the more understanding and freedom you provide to them, the lovelier and more viable they become. They reveal mysteries to you that you never even knew were possible.

The image above is not my own. It can be found on the Cardiomyopathy Association site.

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.

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.

childhood, children, education, school, teaching, volunteer, yoga

My Year of Hopefulness – Doing What We’ve Never Done

Christa Avampato

All week I’ve been trying to write curriculum for my after-school pilot program. I’m not a trained teacher. I’ve tutored and I’ve volunteered in classrooms. Mostly, I’ve just been up there at the wipe board (apparently the blackboards and chalk of my youth are long-since gone) winging it.

Rather than writing curriculum, I’ve been staring at a very blank white screen on my laptop, complete with blinking cursor. And that little tiny voice, the one I just dread, decides to show up at the most inopportune time to make me feel even worse. “Who are you to be writing curriculum?” it says. “You don’t know how to do that.” And as much as I want to turn down that volume, the voice grows louder, adding more doubts, more concerns, and more insecurity to my already frazzled mind. I have no idea what I’m doing. There’s no denying that.

At 11:00 last night, I closed down my laptop without having written a single word. “The voice was right,” I thought. “Who do I think I am? An untrained “teacher” writing curriculum. I can’t do this.” I did what I often do when I’m frustrated with my writing. I read. The latest issue of Yoga Journal just arrived in my mailbox so I cracked it open and began reading from page one.

There is a belief in yoga, and I believe in Buddhism as well, that the Universe will provide us with the exact teaching we need exactly when we need it. Kaitlin Quistgaard, the Editor of Yoga Journal, wrote this month’s editorial note about how to show up for life and begin something we want to do even if we aren’t sure how to do it. “It seemed like a life lesson designed to show me the value of doing my part, even if I don’t know what to do,” she says of a recent incident she had. This sounds like valuable ammunition against that little voice that was doubting me. I keep reading.

A few pages later, I come across an article by Julia Butterfly Hill who talks about finding your purpose and growing with it. Hmmm…sounds like another good one. The whole article is one beautiful quote after another. “Who am I supposed to be in my life?…what do you want your legacy to be?…We approach everything backward…we live in a production-driven society rather than a purpose-driven society.” And here’s my favorite line that I’m considering having made into a t-shirt: “We don’t have to know how to do something before we begin it.” Though I’m a product developer, paid to produce, I am much more concerned with living my life with purpose than with things.

So that’s it – that’s all I needed to know to silence the little voice nagging at me. It’s true – I don’t know how to write a curriculum. I don’t know what material will resonate with the kids I want to teach. I don’t know how to actually do anything related to this project. I do know that I am a fast learner, and that I was born not knowing much of anything except how to breath, (and even that breathing isn’t something we do consciously!) I do know that I want to live in a world where every child has the opportunity to learn anything and everything that interests them. I want them all to grow up happy, healthy, safe, and excited about the possibilities that lay before them. I want them all to have a chance at a good and decent life. And that’s more than enough purpose to keep going.

The photo above can be found here.

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.