Category: education

education, social change

My Year of Hopefulness – Learn by Doing

Christa Avampato
This week Michael Sandel at Harvard talked about Aristotle’s Politics. Sandel compares the art of politics to playing an instrument, telling a joke, and cooking. Theses disciplines cannot be learned just from a book or by watching others. Great political orators like great musicians, comics, and cooks must be actively engaged in their craft, practicing consistently, to become masters of it.

Social change is the same way. We can read and write about social change. We can study it. We can be inspired by others who are actively generating social change though only by rolling up our sleeves and participating can we understand the particulars, the details, needed to create change. Change requires trial and error, a variety of approaches, and practice.

In the coming weeks I’ll be attending the final projects, called Wow!s, for this semester’s Citizen Schools afterschool programs. Attending these sessions will give me an idea of what I need to put together for Innovation Station, the afterschool program for 6th graders in East Harlem that I am building around the concepts of innovation and entrepreneurship. I will learn so much by attending these Wow!s, though I know that this Spring I need to get in there and test the methods myself. I’m looking forward to the practice.

career, education, love, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Personal Statements

Christa Avampato

Today I began writing my personal statement for my PhD application to Columbia. I have been thinking about it for a week. Usually writing comes very easy to me. It’s something I love and a skill I work on every day. The words usually come faster than I can type them. Several times I have sat down to write this personal statement and starred at a blank page for a long time, closing my laptop with nothing to show for my time.

What is it that’s getting to me? Why is it that putting fingers to keys to write this personal statement is so tough? I can talk about why I want to get my PhD; I know my dissertation topic and I know what I want to do post-PhD. So why is this personal statement giving me writer’s block?
In one to two pages I have to explain who I am and what I’m most passionate about to people who barely know me. Every word counts. Because of the critical importance of this piece I was editing before I even started writing. I let my quest for perfection get in the way of telling the truth, plain and simple.
While I need perfection before I click the ‘submit’ button, I was forgetting that the first draft, along with the second, third, and thirtieth can be far less than perfect. A final piece that shines from beginning to end is composed of bits and pieces of glimmer from the many drafts that come before it.
Life’s the same way. Love’s the same way. Careers are the same way. We usually don’t get things perfectly correct the first time around. It takes a lot of trial, and error, and trial again. It takes the courage to fail, to follow a dream as far as it will take us. And many times our dreams dead end and we have to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and start all over again. Life, love, and careers take many drafts, and in each new experience we gain a little piece of magic, a little piece of awareness that will get us a bit closer to our own version of perfect. The trick is to never call it quits until we get exactly what we want.
children, education, learning, opportunity, poverty

My Year of Hopefulness – No Choice but to Help

Christa Avampato

Sometimes people ask me why I feel so called to service, why I feel passionately about giving back, particularly in the areas of education and poverty. Why do I spend time in the South Bronx and East Harlem? Here is the answer in cold, hard data: a study was recently done on the student population of the top 146 countries in the U.S. Over 70% come from the wealthiest 25% of families. Only 3% come from the poorest 25% of families. That’s me, down there in the latter group. I went to a top university not once, but twice, and I may be on my way to a third if I’m lucky. I beat the odds, big time.

I learned about this study through Michael Sandel’s weekly lecture on Justice. It hit me like a ton of bricks. 3%? Really? My mother always told me I was special, but stats like that don’t make me feel special. They make me sad and angry and frustrated. And I’ve learned that sadness, anger, and frustration are great motivators for change if we harness them properly. That’s what I do in my community service – I’m harnessing those feelings and using them to turn around the very situation that made me feel those feelings in the first place. It’s my attempt at leveling the playing field.

In this week’s Justice class, Sandel talks about the distribution of wealth, a favorite topic of mine and one that I think about every day of my ridiculously blessed life. I constantly wrestle with feelings of pride in my accomplishments, guilt over my lifestyle (which is modest, but good), and the obligation I have to help others who live in the same type of situation I faced as a child. I firmly stand behind the belief that those of great fortune must take on great responsibility.

Shutting ourselves up in our little homes tucked away in safe little neighborhoods is a recipe for disaster. Tom Friedman famously said “if you don’t visit the bad neighborhoods, the bad neighborhoods will visit you.” (Ironically, or not, Tom Friedman and his wife Ann, are two of the largest donors that make Michael Sandel’s free online class possible.) I hold that thought at the front of my mind as much as possible.

Friedman is very clearly stating that the ability to choose our involvement with people who need our help is not a choice at all. We choose by our action or by our failure to act – the choice between these two options effects whether or not our worlds collide in a positive or negative event. There is no way to our worlds from mingling. By being involved, we have the opportunity to make the collision a positive one. The alternative shows up in our prisons and on the sad headlines of papers and news programs across this country.

What keeps me going most of all in my service work is knowing that there were a lot of people who gave of themselves so I could have the education and opportunity I had at Penn and at UVA. There were policy makers and elected officials who fought for my access to student loans at affordable rates. There were donors who made gifts to these universities so that I could be granted financial aid and top quality resources. There were teachers and mentors and staff members who made it the work of their lives to help students get the very best education possible so long as they were willing to work hard.

A lot of people gave an awful lot of themselves to help total strangers like me – I’ll never meet them all; I’ll never even know all of their names. And still I owe them a huge amount of gratitude. I show that gratitude by paying it forward to others, and I hope the people I help will be willing and able to pay it forward, too. It’s the only way we’re going to make this world a better place for everyone. We’ve got to come together; we’ve got to show up for one another.

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

books, child, education, Sesame Street

My Year of Hopefulness – Sesame Street Celebrates 40 Years

Christa Avampato

I love Sesame Street. When my 2 year old niece was here visiting a few months ago, I discovered that I can get Sesame Street on demand through my cable company. This is exciting news. I love children’s television almost as much as I love children’s literature. Call me juvenile and immature. I love those furry, colorful monsters. They’re old friends. For most of my childhood we had a small black and white TV and I distinctly remember sitting in front of it with my sister, Weez, and singing along, learning Spanish, my numbers, colors, and the alphabet.

I didn’t realize that Sesame Street was also teaching me other pertinent information that would shape my life going forward. Sesame Street taught me about caring for my community and neighbors. I learned about friendship, and sharing, and communicating honestly and fairly. The mix of cultures on Sesame Street taught me tolerance and acceptance and the great celebration that we should hold for diversity.

Sesame Street started as a pilot project, a result of the passion and concern for children and education by a small group of people in New York City. The narrative around the start of the program and its growth is every bit as compelling, if not more so, than the content of the show itself. A few months ago, I wrote a couple posts on this blog that were inspired by Street Gang: The Complete History of Sesame Street. Weez bought it for me for my birthday and I read it cover to cover, taking delight in every word. My posts talked about a life lived in 3 acts and the need to prepare to be lucky. They are good reminders of the subliminal messages that are so important for children to receive early on in life.

So today, we celebrate the milestone of 40 years for this incredible program. It has without question improved the lives of millions of children around the world. At Sesame headquarters at One Lincoln Plaza I hope they are raising glasses high tonight in honor of a big yellow bird, a green trash can inhabitant, a blue cookie lover, a pair of friends obsessed with oatmeal and rubber duckies, a purple count who loves numbers, a red lovable three year old and his goldfish, Dorothy, and the many others who are the first friends that so many of us have come to know and love. Our lives are so much richer for having known them and learned from them. Happy birthday, Sesame Street!

books, child, education, literature, school, volunteer, writing

My Year of Hopefulness – Charlotte’s Web

Christa Avampato

I’m reading Charlotte’s Web with my new book buddy, Dwight. Dwight is a 3rd grader who lives in Queens. We got connected through an organization called Learning Leaders. Based in New York City, the provide supplementary educational programs to kids in public schools. Their book buddy program matches up adult volunteers with elementary school students. We read a book together, and write three letters back and forth as we work our way through the story.

As a kid, I loved to read. My house was filled with literally thousands of books, much to the detriment of any semblance of tidiness. While I didn’t love being in a cluttered home, I loved being surrounded by books in every room. Now I recognize that most kids aren’t as lucky as I was to learn to love reading at such a young age. The book buddy program and Dwight are one small way that I hope to turn that around for a kid.

I forgot how much I love Charlotte’s Web. I forgot how scared Wilbur was and how concerned he was with being lonely and making new friends. Children’s literature introduces some heavy themes, despite its light-hearted exterior. Reading this book has made me fall in love with the genre all over again, and encouraged me to continue writing for this age group.

I’ll post up my letters to Dwight and his letters to me on this blog as we continue through. I’m excited to read what he has to say. I’ll meet him in person in February when we all get together for a celebration lunch. Apparently, the kids always think the adults they are writing to are total rock stars – a shot in the arm we could all use!

“Dear Dwight,
I’m really happy to be reading Charlotte’s Web with you and writing letters to each other as we work through the book. This was one of my favorite books when I was in school, and I’m looking forward to re-reading it. I really enjoy reading and I write, too. I always find inspiration for my own writing by reading other books.

I grew up in a very small town about two hours north of Manhattan, along the Hudson River. We had a farm where we grew apples and every fall we would invite people to come pick apples from our property. We didn’t have as many farm animals as there are in Charlotte’s Web, though my sister, Maria, and I spent a lot of time in the woods around our house watching for deer, turkeys, and foxes. We also had a very large pond that had frogs, turtles, and fish.

Our family has always had pets so my love of animals goes back as far as I can remember. We had a lot of dogs, a few cats, an aquarium, and a rabbit, too. My work is very busy now so I don’t have time for a pet at the moment. I hope I can have a pet of my own someday soon.

One part of Charlotte’s Web that I forgotten was how much Wilbur wanted to make new friends in his new home. I have experienced that many times, too. I went to elementary school, middle school, and high school with all of my same friends. When I went to college and then to graduate school, I didn’t know anyone so I had to make all new friends. At first that experience was scary, though the more often I had to make new friends, the easier it became. Now meeting new people is one of my favorite things to do.

What’s been your favorite part of the book so far? What kind of plan do you think Charlotte will make to help save her friend, Wilbur? I’m looking forward to your first letter!

Your Book Buddy,
Christa”

career, education, mentor

My Year of Hopefulness – Climbing

Christa Avampato

“The single largest pool of untapped resource in this world is human good intentions that never translate into action.” ~ Cindy Gallop

This morning I had breakfast with one of my business school professors. From the beginning of my time at Darden, he was a champion of mine and was someone that I spent many hours learning from. He has been and I hope will continue to be a great mentor of mine. I wanted to meet with him to talk about my plans for my own continuing education. He helped me to realize that in my plans, I am thinking too small. I am selling myself short.

He asked me what programs I was considering. “Christa, where you are is a function of where you’ve been. You must go to the best program that will accept you. Start with the number one program in the country first, go talk to them, see if it’s a match for you and if it is, fight for your admission into that program. This is the time to push yourself further than you ever dreamed possible.”

I was a little shell-shocked. I hadn’t considered the number one program at all, for a variety of reasons. On my way home, I kept closing my eyes and shaking my head a bit, considering the enormity of the task before me. My professor asked me to start from a place of the biggest, brightest, most beautiful dream where I can do the most good, and let that guide my application process. “A little change is not enough, Christa,” he said. “You are capable of more.”

When I got home and opened up my email, I found the quote from Cindy Gallop. I have good intentions, and by entering some of the programs I have been considering, I could bring some of them to life. My professor is asking me to reach up a bit higher on the tree of programs, where the sun shines brightest, where the fruit of hard labor is realized in its fullest form. If I intend to bring my intentions to life in the best way possible with the greatest amount of abundance, I don’t do myself any favors by dreaming small dreams.

On the subway down to meet my professor this morning, I was thinking about the idea of life being lived in 3 acts. Let’s assume I can live to the ripe old age of 100. At 33, I am just about to close my first act of life. In doing so, my professor’s advice is the perfect transition into act 2.

Here I am, a small town girl who worked hard to achieve some pretty decent accomplishments, endured some difficult hardships, and in the process found the line of work I was meant to do. In beginning to plan out that work, I had some ideas of how it could be achieved, and then a great mentor stepped in right at the end of act 1 with a surprise twist that would spur me to achieve much more in act 2 than my own script had originally set out to do. And so the plot shifts, the stakes heighten, and the excitement begins to build.

education, future, goals, happiness, passion, success

My Year of Hopefulness – Choosing the way

Christa Avampato

“To find out what one is fitted to do, and to secure an opportunity to do it, is the key to happiness.” ~ John Dewey

October has shaped up to be a fantastic month for me. A few dips here and there, though for the most part it’s been about exploring new opportunities, meeting new people, and getting a better handle on how my life is moving forward. In other words, I am deep into the first piece of John Dewey’s statement: “finding what one is fitted to do”.

Tonight I had dinner with my friend, Richard, and we were talking about this exploration. I suppose one of the reasons we’ve become such good friends is that we are natural explorers. This is true of so many of my friends, nearly all of them have gone down many different paths, learning a lot along the way, and eventually finding their groove. I’m the late bloomer in the bunch. It took me a long time before I realized how that I could build a life around the idea of a securing a quality education for every child, how adamantly I believe in Frederick Douglass’s idea that “It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” I am a product of this idea and I am now at a point where I’ve been in the world enough to be able to fight for this principle in a thoughtful, compelling way.

So now the trick is the how, John Dewey’s second piece of the puzzle: how (and where) to secure an opportunity to do what I am fitted to do. On the one hand, I am fortunate that my passion has many different avenues for me to pursue. I could go back to a nonprofit that has a mission to help children. I could teach. I could do research in this area. I could pursue an advanced degree (and there are several types of degrees that would be suitable). I could go into government work. I could simply volunteer as I have been doing for many years. I could write. In actuality, I could do all of these things, and likely will. On the other hand, how will I make a choice among all of these options? What is the right way forward for me?

One thing that has amazed me is that it’s the first part, figuring out what we’re fitted to do, what we’re passionate about, that takes the most time and effort. Once that piece is firmly planted in our minds and hearts, and we begin to share it with others, opportunities to do what we love abound. People rally around us, support our dreams and efforts. Somehow, the way opens once we know what way we want to take.

This abundance didn’t hit me until I was speaking to Richard tonight. I was telling him what I was interested in and why. I am in the midst of researching doctoral programs in public policy and there is one in particular that just feels right, that lights a fire in my eyes and heart, the same way that the Darden School was the absolute right fit for my MBA. There are others that seem fine as well, though I just can’t seem to feel as excited about them as I am about this other program. And then a little panic set in. What if they don’t take me? Then how will I ever get this work done that I now know I am fitted to do?

I thought about this on the subway ride home, actually I worried about it. And I played it through in my mind. What if this program didn’t want me? What if the other programs didn’t fit quite right? What if this degree just wouldn’t be possible for me to get? I felt this way when applying to Darden, too. The only other program I applied to was Tuck, and after visiting Tuck, I knew that wasn’t the right fit, so Darden quickly became the only place I could or would or wanted to go. On my drive back to DC from Charlottesville, after my interview and visit to grounds, after I had fallen deeply in love with Darden and the prospect of being a student there, I wondered what I would do if I didn’t get in. I decided to do one of two things: I’d join the Peace Corps, also a lifelong dream of mine, or I’d move right back to New York where I knew I eventually wanted to make my home. That’s it. Very simple.

As luck would have it, I was accepted at Darden on December 1st. I distinctly remember jumping for joy, accepting over the phone, and breathing a great big sigh of relief. I got exactly what I wanted. So now, I’m at that same point again. What will I do if this one program that seems perfect for me doesn’t take me? Now there are many more options for this new road – maybe I’ll teach full-time, go back into nonprofit work, start my own business, write, and continue to be an active volunteer. Maybe New York City government will prove to be the way for me. Yes, I confirmed, I have lots of options.

I emerged from the subway a few hours ago with a lighter heart. John Dewey would smile knowing that there are so many opportunities I could secure to go about doing my life’s work. After all, he is the one who said we climb mountains so that we can see other mountains. From where I now stand, there are so many peaks in my landscape that a valley is scarcely able to be seen. With so many routes to happiness, the work for me now lies not in the finding but in the choosing. And that in itself is reason to smile.

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

change, education, student, teaching, yoga

My Year of Hopefulness – Sonic Yoga

Christa Avampato

It seems that I just cannot resist the pull of being a student again. Some people can’t wait to get out of school and spread their wings. The moment I graduate, I’m trying to figure how to continue to be a student. Call it an addiction. Weez, my sister, tells me that my end goal in life is to figure out how to be a professional student. She, as usual, is right.

In 2004, I took a weekend course through Yoga Fit that gave me a very basic teacher certification. This was before Yoga Alliance became the true gold standard. I have taught free classes to friends and colleagues though now, after many years of practice, I have decided that I want to be more dedicated to my practice and to join the community of fully-certified teachers. For the practice that has given me so much, it is now my turn to provide the comfort of yoga to others through teaching. I’ve been trying out a lot of different studios in New York – we are blessed with many! – and doing research on different teacher training programs. While they have been amazing finds, none of them felt quite right to me until today when I stepped into Sonic Yoga in Hell’s Kitchen.

The gracious and masterful Johanna quickly put me at ease, put the entire packed classroom at ease. I knew I found my home. Sonic Yoga is not fancy; it’s homey, comfortable, and filled with so much positive energy and warmth. People laugh in class; it’s one of the few places in New York where you are encouraged to not put on a show, but to just be exactly as you are.

Today’s lesson was about surrender, letting go of the stories we tell ourselves, freeing ourselves from situations in life that just aren’t working for us. Johanna asked us to continue to repeat one of the following three mantra throughout our class – “I surrender”, “I don’t know”, or “not my will”. She asked us not to choose the one that felt the best to us, but rather to choose the one that bothered us the most. “I don’t know”. Those words haunt me. At one point during the class, they made my eyes tear up. I’m tearing up now just thinking about this. My life is on very uncertain ground right now. While I know what I want and have an idea how to get there, I am having to give up a lot of the stories that have sustained me in order to make the change.

I am now in the process of turning away from things in my life that just don’t fit. And I don’t care what anyone says – the process of good-bye is hard. Even when we know we need to let something go for our own good, it still hurts. There are dreams that have to be put to rest. There are people who aren’t good for us. There are situations that we must remove ourselves from. I’m now in the process of deciding what dreams, people, and situations those are. And while I have my eye fixed on the horizon of the new life I am so excited about, it means surrendering some aspects of my life now that I love. There are no certainties in life; there are many things that we don’t know, that we can’t know. We must learn to be comfortable with not knowing.

Throughout the 90 minute class, I would repeat to myself “I don’t know”. I kept reminding myself that I can do this; I can surrender, even if it hurts. Keep a stuff upper lip and just muscle through. And then Johanna said, “you don’t like those words, do you?” “No,” I thought, “I don’t.” And then as if inside my head, Johanna said, “that’s okay. Acknowledge how hard this is, how much it bothers you. And then keep going.” So I did the only thing I was certain I could do. I could keep going through the asanas. I could keep moving, even with tear-filled eyes, even with a heavy heart, even while saying good-bye, I could keep moving toward my beautiful life ahead.

education, election, government, politics, social media

My Year of Hopefulness – Teaching at Hunter College

Christa Avampato

“Good teaching is one-fourth preparation and three-fourths theater.” ~ Gail Godwin, American novelist

“If you have stage fright, it never goes away. But then I wonder: is the key to that magical performance because of the fear?” ~ Stevie Nicks

Today marked my first college class teaching. My friend, Jamie, teaches an introductory political science and an elections class at Hunter College. He asked if I would come in and guest teach on the topic of social media and popular elections. With a great amount of nervousness, I accepted and went this morning at 10am to teach 2 sessions.

I have a secret – I have an awful case of stage fright. I’ve been known to get sick to my stomach several times before making a presentation or acting in a performance. I have a few techniques I have tried over the years and only one really seems to work: quit whining and just do it. It’s amazing that once I get to the stage or the front of the room, I’m completely fine. It’s the anticipation of performance that brings on the butterflies.

And so it was at Hunter. I had made copious lecture notes and rehearsed in my apartment. I was wringing my hands a bit, and worrying. Would I add any value? Would the students think what I had to say was relevant? What if I couldn’t answer a question? And here’s the truly terrifying one – what if there was no reaction at all from anyone? What if all I heard was crickets amid a sea of empty, expressionless faces? Ouch.

True to past experience, none of these things happened. The classes were engaged, interested, and interesting. I learned as much as they did in the course of the preparation and the class itself. Teaching is exactly like theatre with an added component of more front-loaded research, and theatre and research I know I can do. What surprised me most is how much I loved teaching a college class. Truly loved it. The time flew by, and when I was finished, I wanted to teach another session. Yes, the PhD-route is certainly the right one for me. Now I know that for sure.

In preparation for the class, I have had the great fortunate of amazing professors as clear examples. At Darden where I got my MBA, professors teach the case method. No lecturing allowed. The professor’s job is to draw students out, to engage them immediately, and keep the dialogue flowing non-stop for close to two hours. This is no easy task and for two years I had the privilege to sit with masters of this teaching method like Ed Freeman, Robert Spekman, and Alex Horniman.

I have also been watching and studying Michael Sandel, a professor at Harvard who teaches a wildly popular class entitled simply “Justice”. For the first time, the class is being shown on-line for free at http://www.justiceharvard.org. Every Thursday a new class is uploaded. Sandel, like my Darden professors, is a master teacher that manages to engage and facilitate discussion in a very large lecture hall. Watching him made me re-consider teaching as a profession, and reignited my interest in going back to school and getting a PhD. I must remember to send him a thank you card.

I have just created an account on slideshare.net and uploaded the presentation I gave this morning at Hunter. I build presentations as guides for a discussion and not stand-alone documents. I’m glad to walk anyone through the presentation if they’re interested!

education, goals, success

My Year of Hopefulness – Mountains

Christa Avampato

The dots continue to connect in my life. I’ve been working on a children’s story for the past month and that’s led me to renew my interest in children’s literature. I’ve gone through a set of books by Blue Balliet that are set in the Laboratory Schools in Chicago. That school was founded by John Dewey, one of the greatest influences in public education to date. He also happened to found The New School where I am considering the PhD program in Public and Urban Policy. His approach to education resonates so deeply with me and I’ve been doing a lot of independent research on him.

Today I came across a book entitled John Dewey and the Philosophy and Practice of Hope. In it there is a curriculum for teaching a class on hope which would make an excellent addition to my curriculum for Citizen Schools. It is taught at UNC Charlotte by Stephen Fishman, one of the book’s authors along with Lucille McCarthy. John Dewey has a lot to say about the subject of hope and many students took Professor Fishman’s class for the same reason I’m writing a year-long series about hope on this blog – to feel more hopeful.

As it turns out, Dewey’s whole philosophy about life was based on hope. Max Otto, philosopher and close friend of Dewey, recounted John Dewey’s philosophy of hope as illustrated in a dialogue he had with a student:

Student: What’s the good of [philosophy]?

Dewey: The good of it is that you climb mountains.

Student: And what’s the use of doing that?

Dewey: You see other mountains to climb.

Today, someone said to me that if she could just accomplish this one thing she wanted to do that would be a victory. She could check that off her list; with that victory she would “win”. This sounded so odd to me. Isn’t the point of a victory to let you do even greater things down the line, similar to the mountains that Dewey talked about with his students.

At a Darden alumni reception tonight, I was reminded that this is the ultimate goal of education, too. We get an education not for the accomplishment we get with the degree, but rather because of the doors that it opens, because climbing that mountain of books and papers and exams allows us to see and climb other mountains. Mountains we never knew existed. And it gives us the confidence to make our way in the world.

A victory, a diploma, a “win” isn’t an ending at all – it’s always a gateway to something bigger. This is reason enough to always keep going, to always keep moving forward. Obstacles become just challenges. Hard times become opportunities for learning and strength and growth. Disappointments and loss help us realize what’s really important in our lives. Those mountains are more than just things to climb and accomplish. They are our very reason for living.