Category: education

art, books, creativity, economy, education, jazz, music, New York City, politics, society

Moving to Higher Ground: How Jazz Can Change Your Life

Christa Avampato

I gave up my horn about 10 years ago because truth be told I wasn’t even mediocre, and even if I practiced for hours a day I’d never be great. I want to be a lot things, but I have no intention of getting in the habit of spending my time being mediocre. I love jazz, but I couldn’t play it. I just don’t have that ability. My creativity is in my writing. 


So for years now I have socked away all of the academic knowledge I built up around the music. (I studied it for a year in college and played in a few different bands.) People ask me if I miss playing, and truth be told I don’t. I never even think about it. Playing music doesn’t hold any kind of magic for me, but I still very much enjoy listening to it, and really what I enjoy is the history, all of the stories that come along with musicians. And there are plenty of stories to go around. 


My brother is a trumpet player and because he is 6 years older than me, I learned about Wynton Marsalis and the Marsalis family at a very young age. When I saw that Wynton would be at my local Barnes and Noble I decided to go hear some of his stories. He was so engaging and charming that I bought his book on sight, which I never do at author readings. And once I started reading Moving to High Ground: How Jazz Can Change Your Life, I couldn’t put it down. (And it helps that his co-author is the brilliant and well-spoken historian, Geoffrey Ward.)


For me the genius of this book is not to tell you about all the drugs that musicians have done, or all the women they’ve had or how down and out and poor they were. It talks about what the music has to teach us about living other aspects of our lives. How we treat each other. It teaches us about acceptance and nurturing and compassion. Wynton lays out the value is studying jazz not to be great, but to realize a certain aspect of humanity that comes through generosity.  Its is a living, breathing thing that connects the generations. It allows us to learn from generations of people who were long gone before we were every a twinkle in our parents’ eyes.  


Wynton goes on to talk about how we all hear something different in the music. He talks about arrogance and greed and the darker sides of our personalities that the music uncovers. But mostly he talks about how musicians with disparate styles can come together, should come together, to create something wholly different than they could ever make on their own. Nobody gets through this world alone in the same way that no jazz musician builds a career alone. Jazz is a way of capturing what it means to be out and about in this world. It’s a way of sharing that experience with others whom we will never meet but for whom our music could be a beacon of freedom if we are strong enough to tell our own stories, look them in the eye, and harvest the very best of what they have to teach us.


Wynton’s thoughts on community come at a particularly poignant time. Throughout the book I thought a lot of about the state of our world. How scary all these moving parts are – the economy, our national security, our political systems, health care, education. There is a lot to be afraid, maybe even more to be afraid of than at any other time in our history. What jazz, and musicians like Wynton teach us, is that the only way we can be safe is to let go of that fear with the confidence that those around us will support us. Their harmonies will carry us through. And if all else fails at least the swingin’ will give us enough encouragement to keep our chins up and the rest of us moving forward with grace.  

education, health, healthcare, innovation, politics

One Thing We Don’t Want to Change

Christa Avampato

Thomas Friedman wrote a brilliant article in the Times last week about innovation in the U.S. At the moment, we are the most innovative country in the world, though that is changing. Quickly. And though there are a lot of people in the press these days talking about change, few are talking about innovation, much less the need to foster that effort in our people. And it needs to be addressed, head on. Now. 


We are spending a lot of time talking about how to save manufacturing. The trouble is we can’t save manufacturing if we don’t save the innovative processes that dictate what to manufacture. And we can’t save the innovative process and its wonderful outcomes without seriously addressing education – and that includes K-12, college, and graduate school, the latter of which is nearly becoming a non-negotiable credential for those who want a modicum of job and financial security. In the case of K-12 education, the improvement child health and well-being is critical. And without K-12 education, we don’t have a prayer. 

Despite the fact that I have been a fan of Barack Obama since his entry into politics, I voted for Hilary Clinton in the primary. Many people ask me why when she seems so divisive and polarizing. One simple reason – I believed she would fix healthcare, which leads to better K-12 education which fosters innovation that supports our economy and global competitive advantage. Healthcare is a root cause to so many other problems we have in the U.S., and around the world. And if were going to talk about priorities and what to focus on first in this next Presidency, my wish would be that we make good health for every American a non-negotiable goal.       
books, charity, education, nonprofit

Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin

Christa Avampato

I spend a lot of time reading books, magazine and newspaper articles, and watching TV programs that pertain to work being done by nonprofits and NGOS. I spent part of my career in the nonprofit world and have volunteered in my community for as long as I can remember as my mother is also very committed to service.


I talk to friends about their nonprofit work and my company gives generously to a whole host of these organizations. I have a carefully chosen few organizations that I donate to and if friends send me a notice that they are running a race or taking part in some other way to raise money for a charity they believe in, I’m good for a donation. Lately I’ve been feeling the need to do more and I’m not sure if that means joining a board, lending my business expertise on a pro-bono basis, or committing a great amount of volunteer time. Maybe it means starting my own nonprofit. 

Because of my interest in education, especially that of girls in developing nations, I picked up a copy of Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin. The book charts the course that Greg Mortenson took to building schools first in the village of Korphe in Pakistan, then all over that country, and most recently in Afghanistan. I was so moved by Greg’s story that about 50 pages through the book I went to the website to make a donation. He is compelling, engaging, passionate, and he’s in the field for all the right reasons. 

Greg believes, as I do, that education changes the paradigm. We cannot hope to ensure our own national security and that of our allies if we do not take make the effort to provide basic education, particularly to women, in places like Afghanistan and Pakistan. We cannot go in with guns a-blazing a la George W. Bush, obliterate an entire nation to rubble, and then walk away with a defiant “take that” tossed over our shoulders. Our behavior in the Middle East makes me hang my head in shame. 

The way to peace is through books, through education, and through nurturing the imaginations and curiosities of children. Greg and his nonprofit, the Central Asia Institute, are doing that effectively, efficiently, and safely. I couldn’t imagine a better use for my charitable giving.    
education, Penn

Philadelphia

Christa Avampato

“I quit being afraid when my first venture failed and the sky didn’t fall down.” ~Allen H. Nehart


On my way to DC yesterday, my train rolled past Penn, my undergrad alma mater. We had a little engine trouble so we were stuck at 30th Street Station for about 15 minutes. Penn is right there, just over the bridge. I began to tear up as I looked at those buildings that were so familiar to me, or at least used to be. I was surprised by this response. It stirred up some emotions that I hadn’t thought about in a very long time.

I learned some hard lessons at Penn. I had my heart broken, really broken, for the first time. I began to get over the loss of my dad and all of the fallout that affected my family thereafter. I learned about failing. My first quarter I got 2 A’s – Ancient Rome and a German Studies call titled “The Third Reich”, and I got 2 C’s – Calculus and Physics. Problem was I was in the engineering school, not a liberal arts major. (That changed after year one and I graduated with a double major in economics and history and a minor in psychology.)

At my first orientation meeting the very first cute college guy I ever met asked me, “Are you a Ben Franklin scholar?” And I replied, “I’m not sure. How would I know?” He walked away. I learned about hierarchy and for the first time was exposed to a type of class system. Among a lot of “haves”, I was a “have not”.

And for the first time I had people all around me of different races, ethnicities, religions, and socioeconomic levels. These people around me had traveled all over the world while I’d never left the area of the eastern seaboard between Connecticut and Washington D.C. They spoke multiple languages, fluently. They had the best of everything, always. I was a fish out of water. 

I grew up in a very small town that was about 95% white, Italian Catholics who mostly got by paycheck to paycheck, and a few with a bit more than that. Most of the town was covered with farms and grassy areas. I could count the number of stretches of sidewalk on one hand, and the number of traffic lights on the other hand. We often left our front door unlocked. I spent the majority of my childhood, save for school and my after-school jobs, outside. I was an athlete, a musician, and graduated top of my class. I was a star and I knew it.

At Penn, for the first time in my life I learned to live in a place that has more cement and blacktop than grass. My freshman dorm had bars on the windows. I lived in a community that had homelessness and where some sort of violence was a daily occurrence. I had food that was Indian and Ethiopian. I was not the top of my class – actually, I wasn’t even close. I was in the bottom quartile for sure. And I was smart, very smart. It’s just that everyone around me was much smarter, and I learned to study, very hard, all the time. I learned about striving to be the best, and not reaching that goal. So I learned to live with disappointment. I learned about failing, and getting up, and trying again, and failing again, and so on. In truth, I spent most of my college years lost. 

At Highland High School, there was a lot of coddling. In my entire hometown there was a lot of coddling. At Penn, you had to make your own way. No one was holding your hand. There was no lifeline; there was no hope of finding a lifeline no matter how hard you looked. I always felt like the subtitle of the school should be, “You’re on your own, kid.” I was scared. 

But I also found a lot of strength here. I found that I could get through anything. Even if I didn’t do that well on an exam or a paper, no matter how tired I was, the sun came up the next day. The world soldiered on, and would continue to do so with or without me. The parade was going to keep going, and if I wanted to play a part in it, I needed to get out there and keep up. Or else go home. And I couldn’t go home; I wouldn’t go home, so I joined the parade.

I discovered theatre and the true art of collective creativity while at Penn. I learned about being open to the world and what it, and everyone in it, had to teach me. I learned about getting new dreams when the ones I held to for so long weren’t coming true. I learned how to improvise and began to learn how to express who I was and what I was about in a sincere, articulate way, sans whining. I learned that while the world may be tough, I could be tougher, without losing my sense of empathy and sensitivity. And I learned that community is not thrust upon you or gifted to you; you have to create it everyday. I learned to question everything regardless of the source and the supporting chorus behind it. I learned to care for and search for the truth in everything. 

Most importantly I began to learn how to curate and build narrative. The seeds of my writing life were planted at Penn, even though it would take a decade before they truly began to grow. I got a hefty dose of tough love there, and though I didn’t know it at the time, it was exactly what I needed. At Penn, I grew up.

On my graduation day, my friend, Derek, gave me a quote in a frame that perfectly summed up Penn for me. “Years from now, you’ll come back and hang a plaque. This is where Christa began being what she can.” When Sondheim wrote that in Merrily We Roll Along he of course didn’t have me in mind. Derek added my name in there. But the sentiment holds true. There’s no plaque Penn yet, but in those halls and on those grounds I did begin to be what I have become, and will continue to become. I learned about how a life evolves and changes and grows, and for these hard won lessons, I am eternally grateful.

Africa, education, media, science, technology, TED

Searching for the Next Einstein

Christa Avampato

There is a profound belief in the West that if we throw enough money at a problem, the problem will ultimately go away. I’m not sure how or when or by whom this misconception was started. I do know it runs deep in this country, and recent world events have shown its fragility.

I read extensively about Africa and the circumstances that many of the nations on that continent are facing politically, economically, and socially. Recently I heard an NPR story covering integrated schools in South Africa where students don’t feel safe because of ever-rising racial tensions. In the New York Times I’ve been following the campaign of Morgan Tsvangirai, the man who dared to challenge President Mugabe, and then dropped out due to the threat of violence. Yesterday I was reading a story in Sierra Magazine about Ethiopia’s optimism, a story chronicling the long-overdue arrival of contraceptives that are allowing women and girls to take more control of their lives.

The one topic I don’t hear much about in relation to Africa is science. Yes, in a roundabout way the topic is addressed via food shortages or medical relief work. Science education isn’t touched. With great excitement I learned about a program initially sponsored through TED, NextEinstein. Neil Turok, a brilliant cosmologist and education advocate, was honored with the TED Prize, and thus was able to use TED’s incredible network to announce his one wish for the world and receive support to bring that wish to life. “My wish is that you help us unlock and nurture scientific talent across Africa, so that within our lifetimes we are celebrating an African Einstein.” Essentially he is saying that Africa must solve Africa’s problems if those solutions are to have longevity.

In 2003, Turok, who was born in South Africa, founded the African Institute for Mathematical Sciences in Muizenberg, a postgraduate educational center supporting the development of mathematics and science across the African continent. The website http://www.nexteinstein.org/ was just launched about a month ago and the movement is looking for help in the form of donations, media talent, creative business consultants, educators, and infrastructure.

This effort is about helping entire nations lift themselves up and propel themselves forward. African nations have been down-trodden for too long, dependent on aid that is always too slow to arrive and never substantial enough. Neil Turok is building a program for Africans to help other Africans. There is more to those nations than disease and war and social ills, contrary to so much of what our national media covers. It is a continent rich with possibility and talent and heritage. Now the question is how to mine that potential so that the outcome is even more elaborate than Turok’s dream. To lend a hand, visit the TED Prize website.

career, economy, education, money, Real Simple, relationships, travel

A framework for getting through tough times, economic or otherwise

Christa Avampato

With the current state of the economy, every news cast, newspaper, magazine, and radio station has been offering a nightly segment on making our money go further by cutting expenses, shifting our investments, and finding places with bargains. Money experts like Jean Chatzky and Suze Orman are encouraging us to live within or below our means, pay down bad debt, and save, save, save. While a lot of these tips are very helpful, they are just that – suggestions and tips. I haven’t seen a consistent, customizable framework to help us cope with specific, difficult challenges we’re facing on so many fronts. Until yesterday.


I’ve been a loyal subscriber to Real Simple Magazine for several years. I look forward to its arrival each month and it’s one of the few publications I read cover to cover every time. This month, their resident motivator, Gail Blanke, wrote a column entitled “How to Thrive in Tough Times.” I expected another set of high quality tips and hints on personal cost cutting. What I found instead was much more valuable. 


A personal and executive coach, Gail offered exactly the kind of framework I have been looking for when evaluating a challenge and formulating a way to overcome it. A fun five-step process takes us through naming and evaluating the challenge, considering possibilities, and then taking action. 


Step 1 involves naming the problem in a discrete way and then asking, “can we do anything about our situation to quickly make the problem disappear?” If no, proceed to step 2. Gail’s example in the article talks about a family who can’t afford to take vacation this year because of the tough economy. 


Step 2 we consider all of the things we’re missing out on or losing as a result of the problem. This can be an emotional coming to terms so take your time going through this step, face each fear and loss head-on, and then keep going. 


Step 3 now that we have faced what we’re losing, consider a new possibility. This can be the most difficult step because we now have to let go of what we are losing and imagine a new reality. Eventually, the family Gail was working with formulated the big idea of having a vacation at home. 


Step 4 now the fun begins. It’s time for imagining impossible things in the hope that we can make some of them possible. This is a free-for-all brainstorm. No idea is a bad idea in step 3 – get it all out there without considering limitations. This is your license to get completely carried away. The family in Gail’s example came up with ideas like taking Latin dance lessons together, cooking classes, and visiting all of the local museums in town.


Step 5 leads us on the path to reflection. We put the best of the ideas from step 4 into action, and put our best foot forward in making them a reality. No half-hearted efforts here. And then carefully consider how this new found possibility is different and even better than the opportunity we had to miss out on in these tough times. Step 5 will be a work in progress for some time, and it may teach us that while the hard times are tough to initially confront, they end up creating the circumstances for which we are most grateful. 


I hope this framework helps us all consider new realities that we must create in order to move forward, even in the toughest of times. It’s valid for personal matters, as well as professional, and can be used by anyone regardless of circumstances. It has enough structure to serve as a gentle guide and enough flexibility to make it valid in a myriad of situations. It can be used by individuals, families, and companies. Many thanks to Gail and Real Simple for finally offering up a tool that we’ll be able to use for many years to come. 

dating, education, learning, new media, technology

Learning a new language

Christa Avampato

At the BlogHer Conference, I heard Kerry Miller speak about her inspiration for her blog, PassiveAggressiveNotes.com. She was on a terrible date, explaining the passive aggressive notes her roommates would leave one another on post-its. She joked that she should put them on a blog, and she did, and the rest is history. It’s now become a very popular site with hundreds of people logging in every day. Even a bad date can have a good outcome, even if it’s not the good outcome you were hoping for. 


Which is how I consoled myself last night after a date that might be described as one of the worst dates ever. I rarely dish about dating on this site, though this story had some usefulness eventually. To give you a taste of what transpired – after regaling me with his ability to find a bargain, his side business scalping concert tickets on Ebay, and his knowledge of five French vocabulary words, he then managed to use curse words relating to the human anatomy and phrases like “wow, the youngsters here are enthusiastic.” (We were at a rock concert – note to self, rock concerts are not a good venue for a first date.) The date ended with me getting so sick to my stomach and dizzy from all of the smoking in the audience that I had to go outside, get some fresh air, and in the process dropped my ticket, banning me from re-entry. Thankfully, I had written down his cell phone number so I  sent him a text to let him know I was grabbing a cab home. The Universe saved me by snatching that ticket from my pocket. 


So what good could come out of this night that I wished I had stayed home and watched the Food Network? Two things: I know now that my mother was right – when dating, using the decade rule is best. In general, it’s very hard to romantically relate to someone who is 10 years older or younger than me. There of course are exceptions like Catherine Zeta-Jones and Michael Douglas. But by and large, I believe my mother on this one. The other terrific thing to come out of this unfortunate date is a new on-line tool that my date told me about. It’s the one he’s used to learn his five French words. Don’t hold that against the site. 


www.livemocha.com is a language learning site that doubles as a social network The lessons go at your selected pace, and it’s free. So long as you’re motivated to put in the time, you can build your own classroom across the world to help you learn or re-learn a language, and you can help others in the process. While the language of love was clearly eluding me last night, there’s now renewed hope for brushing up on my Spanish! Que bueno!

creativity, education, failure, imagination, work

JK Rowling’s Commencement speech – The Fringe Benefits of Failure, and the Importance of Imagination

Christa Avampato

I read JK Rowling’s commencement speech she gave at Harvard last month. She talks about one thing that new graduates are abundant with – imagination. And she talks about one thing that terrifies them – failure. 


What struck me most about her speech was her unfailing sense to be brutally honest. She grew up without money, and admits that while it is a scary proposition to live that way as an adult, growing up poor makes you fearless in a way that frees you to follow your imagination. She articulately put into words the way I have been living since I graduated from college 10 years ago. When you’ve gone to bed hungry, you’ve hit bottom. And you begin to build upward – there’s simply nothing else you can do. 

business, career, corporation, education, success

How to Be Smarter

Christa Avampato

The definition of intelligence, its measurement, and the belief that it relies more heavily on nature or nurture are all up for debate. In discussions on intelligence, there does seem to be general agreement that there are steps any person can take to make the most of the intelligence they have. 

The New York Times ran an article this week detailing some of the methods of maximizing intelligence: exercise, a pursuit of lifelong learning, sufficient sleep, and challenging ourselves with riddles, puzzles, and mind-bending games. Though my favorite piece of the article involves its reference to the list Conde Nast released of the 73 top brains in business. And you’d think that list would be chocked full of Ivy-educated, fabulously wealthy finance types. And there are some of the those, though their number is surprisingly, and pleasantly, few.

The majority of Conde Nast’s list is dominated by people who go out of their way to think different, be individuals, people who recognize that differentiation, not assimilation, is the way forward in the world of business. The list includes a collection of people who don’t make headline news, but quietly, in their own way are simultaneously changing the world and building wildly successful companies. 

This list gives us some profound food for thought: our education focuses on test achievement, elite school acceptances, and hitting numerical thresholds. Do we need to have a metric in place in our education system that captures a sense of confidence, an ability to look at challenges with new eyes, and have the courage to forge ahead against adversity, naysayers, and others who wish we’d just “be like everyone else”? Current business successes would suggest that the idea is worthy of consideration. 

child, children, curiosity, education

A wish to learn

Christa Avampato

“The important thing is not so much that every child should be taught, as that every child should be given the wish to learn. ~John Lubbock”

In recent weeks I have encountered a number of people who have grown old before their time. Even in their 20’s and 30’s they have lost any desire to be inspired, to learn something new, to think differently, to take chances. It’s possible that somehow these people never had the drive to do any of these things, though I doubt it. Somehow they’ve lost their ability to be children, or at least have a sense of curiosity that is child-like.

It is incredible what one can learn with no resources other than a desire to learn. As a kid, I went to public school in a very small farm town in upstate New York. My family had very little money. What we did have was a house full of old books on every subject you could imagine. I saw how much my mother struggled, largely because she was the bread winner and had never gone to college. My grandfather, though a wonderful man, figured that she didn’t have to go to college as she would never need to support a family. And financial aid was not common the way it is today.

I knew I wanted out of that very small town, and the only way I could see to get out, and honestly stay out, was through education. College was a way out of poverty, the road out of my very small town. So into my books I dove when I wasn’t working one or two or three part-time jobs. We didn’t have a lot of money though my mother did give me the wish to learn. And learn I did. My bet was well-placed: I did get out of that town, I did move on to many exciting adventures. The best part about learning – the more you do, the more there is to discover.

The photo above is not my original work. It can be found at http://picasaweb.google.com/tdalui/CuteBabies/photo#5070687779181901250