The holiday shopping season has arrived! If you’ve got readers on your list, I’ve got some treats for you. For anyone who purchases my Emerson Page books for holiday gifts, I’d love to send you free extra gifts to bundle up with the books to make the present even more special. Just send me a message at littlerose317@gmail.com with the name of the person you’re giving the books to and the address where I should send the free gifts. I appreciate every purchase and reader so I’m more than happy to do this for you and your loved ones. Happy holidays!
I haven’t been able to get this sentence out of my mind. It was said by a 37-year-old man who was diagnosed with Parkinson’s, a neurological disorder that has begun to impact his gross and fine motor skills. He was featured in a news story about Up ENDing Parkinsons, a nonprofit that’s created a nationwide rock climbing program for people with Parkinson’s disease.
This man mentioned he can no longer do things that he used to take for granted — typing, for example. To see him scale a rock climbing wall at this gym, you’d never know he was struggling to move. The journalist told him this and he got choked up.
“This means a lot to you,” said the journalist.
He nodded his head, cleared his throat, and said, “It’s nice to be good at something again.”
Parkinson’s has robbed this man of so much at such a young age. This program has given him back some joy and a sense of pride in himself. The value of that can’t be overstated.
This story was a reminder to me that we all want to feel we’re good at something. I hope we can all take the time to recognize and acknowledge when those around us are good at something. It takes only a small amount of time and effort on our part, and yet the impact for the person receiving this acknowledgement is enormous. We never know just how much someone may need to hear that. The world is a difficult place right now, and many people feel broken. Let’s do our best to help people feel whole again, and lift them up whenever we can. Feed the good.
On Monday night, I held my first conversation group at the American Cancer Society’s Hope Lodge in New York City. Cancer patients and their caregivers stay there for free while the patients receive treatment in New York. My twice-a-month conversation groups are a safe space where any of the patients and caregivers can come to talk about anything that’s on their minds. I bring homemade baked goods, coloring supplies, and a willingness to listen. On Monday, a lovely group of volunteers from the skincare company La Roche-Posay also provided dinner for everyone so our 1-hour group turned into a 3-hour group.
As a cancer survivor, I’ve been searching for a way to give back and help other people on their healing journey. I love talking with people, hearing their stories, and helping them work through challenges (if help is what they need). I was very lucky to survive cancer and regain my health. This is my way of supporting others as they rise.
We’ve all had those moments when we just don’t know what to do. I felt that way on the morning of November 6th. Then I read the quote above on Leta McCollough Seletzky’s Threads feed, and it really struck me.
This is what I know how to do:
Be curious
Listen
Synthesize and weave together information
Tell stories
Nurture myself and others
It’s no wonder when the reality of the election results set it, these are the exact things I began to do. Now that we’re preparing for a future that’s so uncertain, consider what you know how to do, what you like to do, what you’re good at, and what motivates you to keep going. Do those things where you are with what you have right now.
There will be no shortage of those who need help and no shortage of the things they’ll need help doing. What you know how to do will be needed by someone somewhere. We’re all in this movement together. More tomorrow…
I process my grief through writing, and I thought it might be helpful to process all of this together. In the coming days, I’ll share stories that I hope inspire and heal you in the days, weeks, and months ahead. If you need to cocoon and not look at screens for a while, I understand. If you’re looking for something to read that could be a light in the darkness, I want to provide that for you. Please know you’re not alone in any of this. More soon…
Prospect Park, Brooklyn. Photo taken by Christa Avampato.
Prospect Park, Brooklyn – Fall 2024. Photo by Christa Avampato.
On this difficult day, I have some things to say about gratitude, storytelling and leadership. Hundreds of thousands of people heeded the call ~100 days ago to not do something but do everything to try to help Vice President and Governor Walz win. I’m sorry neither of them took the stage at Howard University last night to say thank you, so I will. I’m abundantly grateful to all of you, and for everything you taught me during this campaign. You showed up, generously giving your money, time, and talents. That means a lot to me. You mean a lot to me.
On leadership: It was a huge missed opportunity that they didn’t address supporters and the nation last night. Even though we didn’t know the final count, it was important to say something, anything, and then say they’d be back today to say more. We needed them, and they left without saying a word. That’s not leadership. It doesn’t matter how disappointed they were. We’re all disappointed. They had a real opportunity to maintain a connection with people and they didn’t. They went out the back door and sent the campaign manager to talk to the crowd at Howard and the nation. Vice President Harris will deliver remarks at Howard University today at 4pm. That’s too late. They missed the moment. And sadly, tragically, their opponents didn’t. There’s a lesson in that for us, too. Leaders have to lead, even when they lose. Especially when they lose.
On storytelling: We have to take a long, hard look in the mirror, and at the words we said and didn’t say in this campaign. We need to meet the audience where they are, listen, understand, and work together to craft a better story for all of us. We didn’t do that and the election results show it. How things have been done on campaigns in the past no longer matters because we’re no longer living in the time of “how things are done.” We need better stories and methods. We need to be better listeners and storytellers. Plato said, “Those who tell stories rule society.” That’s true then and true now.
So that’s my focus moving forward – leadership and storytelling. I’ll stay curious, keep learning, improve my craft, and get better. I’ll continue to “be a lamp, or a lifeboat, or a ladder,” as Rumi so beautifully said. I will continue to, “walk out of my house like a shepherd” every single day. I will listen and love. I hope you’ll join me.
With everything happening in the world now, hope may feel in short supply. I’ve got something that will help. I had the honor of being a guest on the Art Heals All Wounds podcast with host Pam Uzzell.
During our conversation, I share my journey from growing up on a rural apple farm amidst adversity to becoming a climate advocate. I talk about my passion for reshaping the narratives and storytelling around sustainability and human design, and how my process of healing from cancer in the depths of the pandemic gave me perspective on healing the planet and the collective responsibility we all share for our planet’s future. This echos what the climate scientist, Dr. Michael Mann, calls “channeling dooming into doing.”
I also make the case for kindness (especially in urban settings), the urgency of transitioning to clean energy, and my plans for fostering environmental restoration, rewilding, and community engagement so we grow stronger together. Thank you, Pam, for the opportunity to talk about everything I love.
Me today — 4 years post-surgery — outside of Perlmutter Cancer Center in New York City
Sunday marked 4 years since the bilateral mastectomy that removed cancer from my body and saved my life. I dropped off my absentee ballot for the election on October 26th, 2020 during early voting and in the depths of the pandemic before vaccines. The next day I went to NYU Langone Medical Center. The surgery was long and difficult. The recovery was painful. The many months of treatment and two additional surgeries, life-threatening setbacks, and healing were even worse. I didn’t know about any of that when I arrived at the hospital that day. All I knew then was I wanted to live, and I might not. My only goal was to wake up from that surgery and see the sunrise. And I did. Step 1, done.
After I woke up from anesthesia, I watched Harry Potter on my iPad, trying to invoke some kind of magic of my own. My angel nurse, Esther, ran all over the hospital to find me a sandwich since meal service had ended. To this day, that ordinary turkey sandwich was the best damn thing I’ve ever eaten. Then she showed me how to care for the 4 drains coming out of my body, a necessary evil after an extensive surgery.
When Dr. Schnabel, my surgeon, came to visit me, I thanked her for saving my life. Neither of us could see each other’s smiles because we were both double-masked. I remember her eyes looking deep into mine. “I’m just part of the team. Everyone in this hospital has one goal — to get you up and over the mountain. It won’t always feel like this. Someday you’re going to be very grateful you chose to take the hard road today.”
My friend, Marita, picked me up at the hospital and gave me the gentlest of hugs. I had a giant bag of meds. “How do you feel?” she asked me once I was settled into her car. I said, “I don’t know.”
Marita drove me home and handed me off to my sister, who dropped her whole life in Florida to take care of me (and my dog). My next goal was to be able to walk around my neighborhood by Halloween with my dog dressed as a pumpkin and my sister to see all the decorations and find some joy in my favorite season. Step 2, done.
My next goals — stay alive, restore my health, and thrive. Steps 3, 4, and 5, done, done, and a daily process.
I went for my annual check-up with my surgeon this morning. All clear! It happened to fall on the anniversary of that conversation we had about the choice to take the hard road. As I walked to the subway to head home in the sunshine, I thought about how right she was — she’s always right. I don’t feel the way I felt 4 years ago. Today, I’m hopeful and thankful for all of it, even cancer. We got up and over that mountain. There are so many people who made this trek possible. I was never alone in it. There were angels, guides, and teachers everywhere. There still are. The journey continues, and I’m very grateful for that.
Below: images from four years ago pre- and post-surgery.
On Sunday, I hopped on a bus in New York and made my way to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to canvas for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz with the organization Swing Left. This is the first time I’ve ever gone door-to-door for a candidate and I wanted to tell you about my positive experience. With only 3 weeks left before Election Day on Tuesday, November 5th , and early voting and vote by mail already in full swing in many states, now is the time to do everything we can to get out the vote.
Structure of the day: At 9:30am, our bus left from 34th Street and 11th Avenue in Manhattan near the Jacob Javits Center.
We received training on the bus with a sample script that we were encouraged to make our own. We used an app called Minivan that had our voter lists and the script (more on that below). We pair up with another volunteer on the bus to canvass together.
At 11:15am, we arrived at campaign headquarters in Northeast Philadelphia. We had one more quick training with the campaign team, downloaded our voter lists into the Minivan app, and someone drove us to the area where we were going to canvas.
At 12 noon, we started working down our voter lists, knocking on each door. We had a lot of wonderful conversations with voters about the issues that mattered to them. We encouraged them to vote and explained that Pennsylvania is one of the swing states in this election that would likely decide the final outcome. A lot of voters didn’t know how much their vote matters!
There were a few people who weren’t interested in talking to us. That’s okay. We thanked them, wished them a good Sunday, and left. With limited time, we have to focus on those who want to engage. If people weren’t home, we left literature for them at their door.
We kept track of our conversations and if someone was home or not in the Minivan app so that the campaign got all of this information. Once we were comfortable, we split our lists — I took one side of the street and my buddy took the other. We visited 205 homes with 322 voters. (Collectively, our bus visited 4,000 homes!)
At 4pm, we finished our lists. Someone from the campaign picked us up and brought us back to headquarters. We gave feedback to the campaign. Once everyone returned, we got on the bus, debriefed with the Swing Left bus captains, and were back in New York by 8pm.
Messaging: We were not there to be policy experts. The basic script is to knock on the door, smile, state our name, and explain we’re with the Harris Walz campaign. Then we hit the 3 main points: thank them for being a voter, explain we’re talking to their neighbors who support Kamala and Tim, and ask them about the details of their plan to vote (where, when, and how they plan to vote). We could also ask who they support and why, and which issues matter most to them. What matters most in this work is listening to these voters, and sharing our stories about why we support Kamala and Tim. Before leaving, we thanked them for their time.
Research shows door-to-door canvassing is the single best way to engage voters and turn them out at the polls, increasing voter turnout for a candidate by as much as 10%. Phone banking as well as writing letters and postcards to voters are also effective ways to reach voters, increasing turnout between 1% and 3%. While that might sound small, remember that this is a tight election and every single vote matters. With 21 days left, the race is on. Do everything you can to turn out the vote!
Today marks 15 years since my NYC apartment building caught fire and I was almost trapped inside. My Alive Day started my difficult journey through one of the darkest times of mental health in my life. It also brought me Phineas as an emotional support dog and it made me a writer. I learned the difficult lesson that “someday” is today because today is all we have. On that journey, I learned how and why to really live. Emerson Page, the protagonist in my novels, was born from that pain. Her story saved me. Stories can save us all.
Forever grateful for my therapist and guide, Brian McCormack, and the many friends who showed up as angels on the path. And of course to Phinny and Emerson. Cheers to all of life’s chapters.
Christa Avampato 