Category: neighbors

neighbors, New York City

Leap: Kindness Multiples in New York City

Christa Avampato
Image by Milton Glaser

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again – your act of goodness is not an isolated incident. It will change you. It will open your heart, and not just in that moment in which you’re giving, but always. It will open the hearts of others. As you give what you have to others who need help, you will inspire others to do the same. And that act will affect them, not just in that moment in which they’re giving, but always.

The pictures and videos emerging from Hurricane Sandy, the stories of heroism, generosity, and sheer kindness are nothing short of flat-out inspiring and tear jerking. Lives have been shattered in the greater metro area and people all over this country are rising up to help people put the pieces back together. In the midst of all of this sadness, all of this loss, I couldn’t be prouder or more honored to call myself a New Yorker.

Earlier this year, I contemplated making a move to a new city, citing the cost and insane pace of this city. No way. Not now. I am doubling down on my city. This is my home, these are my people, and we’re going to get through today and all the tough days ahead of us together. We can and will do this.

books, community, neighbors

Step 139: Good Neighbors

Christa Avampato

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping’.” ~ Fred Rogers, The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember

I feel sick watching the news about the unending oil spill in the Gulf. As someone who has worried about our water supply since age 5, this story breaks my heart. Bill Maher got it right when we so poetically stated, “Every a**hole who ever chanted ‘drill baby drill’ should have to report to the Gulf coast today for cleanup duty.” I agree.

Whenever these sad moments hit me, I go to my book shelf and pull from a small collection of books that I refer to again and again for inspiration. The World According to Mister Rogers is one of those books. For Christmas in 2003, my mom bought me this book about Mister Rogers. The inscription on the inside of the book reads, “This book is dedicated, in Fred Roger’s memory, to anyone who has loved you into being.” My mom added, “and continues to love you every day for everything you do, for caring so much about all of us. I feel so lucky to have you as my daughter.” Moms always have a way of making us feel better, no matter how bleak the world may seem.

Last week, my yoga teacher Stacey read us the quote at the top of this post. I had forgotten it and when I went searching through the book tonight, I found it on p. 187. It made me feel better about the Gulf. And about Haiti and Afghanistan and the South Bronx. Blight and tragedy play out all over the globe every day, making it too easy to get lost in the sadness. Look for the helpers – they dwell in every neighborhood, sometimes acting behind the scenes and sometimes taking their rightful place at center stage. Find them, wherever they live, and celebrate them.

Mister Rogers taught me about community and the priceless value of a helpful neighbor. I grew up in a tiny, rural town on an apple orchard. We struggled financially; a lot of people in my town did. But we had really kind, generous neighbors, and we tried to return the favor every day. We tried to take care of each other as best we could. In my cushy Manhattan apartment tonight, I may have left behind the circumstances of my childhood, but I never lost the lessons of good neighbors.

P.S. – Trish Scott, a very talented writer, animal behavior expert, and extremely loyal reader of my blog wrote a post several years ago about how Mister Rogers raised $20M in 6 minutes. She put this link into the comments section but it’s so powerful, I had to include it on the main page of this post. Happy reading!

neighbors

My Year of Hopefulness – I’ve Got It Easy

Christa Avampato

As I trudged out of my apartment and through the streets to the M60 bus, I was silently cursing the incompatibility of snow banks and rolling luggage. I was hopping over the snow banks still stacked high on the sidewalks of my neighborhood, my rolling luggage clumsily in tow. In 5 blocks, I reached the bus stop, and was glad I would shortly be on my way toLaGuardia airport, albeit with a slightly sore lower back.

As I was lamenting my difficult walk, across the street came a man in a manual wheelchair, young and entirely unfazed by the slushy snow that was much harder for him to navigate than it was for me. I felt like such a whiny, mealy-mouthed jerk. Oh poor me! I have nice luggage with wheels to load up on a bus that will take me to a plane that will take me to warm, sunny Florida where I will spend the holiday with my fabulous, adorable, loving family. Oh the tragedy! However will I make it?

Sometimes terrible things happen to me, and yet when life gets me down I remember my mother’s constant phrase during my childhood, “there is always someone in the world worse off than you.” Her point was that I should stop whining about whatever was bothering me, and she was right. Whining never got anyone very far in this world. In the midst of tough circumstances, perspective is difficult to come by. When I pick my head up a bit from my own difficulties, I find other people who are getting by in life with far few blessings than I have. I’m grateful for the reminders of how truly lucky I am.

economy, friendship, neighbors, New York City

My Year of Hopefulness – Look Up

Christa Avampato

I was walking along Amsterdam Avenue recently, taking notice of all of the store fronts now covered with brown paper and masking tape. A large “retail space for rent” sign hangs prominently on too many doors these days. I kept wondering how we slipped so far so fast, how in a matter of days and weeks businesses are opening and then shuttering their days. Less than two years ago I moved to the Upper West Side, grateful for an apartment under $2000, no store front left unoccupied. On what used to be one of the busiest blocks, 5 spaces are now available.

Equal parts nervous and confused, I was preoccupied with the state of our economy. And then a man and a woman whom I had passed in a rush had a 10 second conversation that made me almost stop in my tracks. The man said, “Oh look at that! The stone work on that building is beautiful. Have you ever seen that before?” “No,” she replied. “In all the time I’ve lived here I’ve never noticed it.” I looked up. I’d never noticed it either. And it is beautiful – cerulean blue, grass green, sunny yellow, and bright orange. How could I have been missing that magnificent splash of color all this time? I guess I’ve been looking down too often.

Sometimes it takes people new to a situation to help us see clearly. We are in such a rush, so used to our surroundings, that we often don’t see the beauty right in front of us, or above us as the case may be. We become so lost in our thoughts and concerns, that we miss out on what’s happening all around us.

We’re exposed to so many signals and messages and images with every step, that our mind has to filter just to stay somewhat organized. This filtering sometimes causes us to miss out on things that could and should bring us some amount of joy and happiness. I am a firm believer that eventually we will always find what we’re looking for. The flip side of that is that if we aren’t looking for something, we may not find it on our own. It often takes someone else’s perspective and experience to wake us up to the life we’re walking through.

community, generosity, kindness, neighbors, relationships

Celebrating "Small"

Christa Avampato

A few weeks ago I was taking the bus cross town, or at least attempting to, in the pouring rain. I was dashing down the flooded streets, chasing after the bus I needed to catch. Thankfully another person was in the same boat, or so I thought. He banged on the door of the bus to stop it. For me. And he continued on his way under a half sagging umbrella. I breathlessly thanked him. “No problem.” he said.


In the late summer, I was walking a few blocks to meet my friends at the Boat Basin. A “Not in Service” bus stopped and asked me how far I had to go. He offered to take me over there. “But you’re out of service,” I said. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied, “I don’t mind.” He dropped me off as close to the Boat Basin as possible and didn’t even ask me to swipe my Metrocard.

Today I walked outside, very early in the morning and more than a little grumpy. An older woman was struggling to scrape off the thick ice that coated her car. A stranger pulled up to the curb and offered to scrape the car for her. The woman was overwhelmed with the offer of help. I smiled and felt a little more hopeful about the world. 

I was saying good-bye and happy holidays to some of my co-workers today. And I was quite speechless to have one of them say to me, “You, Christa, were the bright spot of 2008 for me. In a year that is so challenging on every front, I am so thankful for you.” I didn’t even know how to respond. I never would have expected to have made any kind of impact close to that.

It’s these small acts of kindness and concern that make all the difference in our existence, in our experience of life. While grand gestures are certainly well-received, I always find that it’s the small and heartfelt moments that I retain and cherish most. My new year’s resolution is very simple – it is to celebrate and savor these small gifts, understand how little effort it really takes to make someone else’s day, and to recognize that I can create those moments for others on a continuous basis. In short, I’d like to feel more hopeful and generate more hope for others. 
neighbors, New York, transportation

Unreasonable drivers

Christa Avampato


Why is it that people in cars in New York City feel they have the right to tell people how to park, where to park, and when to move their cars? And why do they think it’s okay to do that by screaming at others from their own cars? I returned to New York today with my sister, brother-in-law, and baby niece for a vacation. We found a parking space right in from of my building with enough room to easily move in and out of when leaving. 


We had arm-loads of things we were carrying inside(including my niece!), and a man with a large station wagon yells at me to move my car forward so he can shimmy his way in behind my car, wedging me into the space.  I tried to ignore his screaming, telling him we couldn’t just drop our things in the middle of the sidewalk and we certainly were not going to wedge in the car in front of us, and then be wedged into the space ourselves. Then he yells “Well, I hope your car will be safe!” We walked inside and didn’t think anything of it, except that he was rude and bordered on crazy. 

I came back out to the car a minute later to gather the few remaining items and he is putting a note on my windshield, and I asked him to back away from my car. His response (after removing the note): “next time, be a little more civil. Parking is at a premium around here.” “What?” I asked. “In case you didn’t notice, we have an infant with us and arm loads of things we’re carrying. And why would I box in the person in front of me and then have you box me in? How would I move my car out with you wedged in behind my car? And besides, even if I did move all the way up to the next car, you still couldn’t get your big car in that space.” He walked away in a huff.

I’ll never understand people like this – people who are naturally so irate that they feel they have the right to upset and harass other people who are minding their own business. I find these people generally are those who drive in the city. Does the driving cause them to go crazy or is it their craziness that encourages them to drive here? I wish people like this guy didn’t make me so upset and stressed; I wish I could chalk it up to funny and weird experiences. And maybe I will once this car is a thing of the past in my life – I’m so looking forward to returning to life as a subway girl.