Paradigm Shift NYC Presents “No Excuses: 9 Ways Women Can Change How We Think About Power” with Gloria Feldt, Feminist Icon

TWM is proud to be a Co-Sponsor of this Women's History Month event and honored that our founder, Kristina Leonardi will be one of the panelists.  Hope to see you on March 19th! 

Click here for more information and place to register.

Carte Blanche

  

The following was originally posted on December 5, 2014 on Kristina's blog.

CHICKS ROCK! is happy to have Kristina back as a guest blogger this week. Kristina Leonardi is the founder of The Women’s Mosaic. She is a coach and speaker in the areas of career development, work/life wellness and personal growth.  

You can follow her @clearlykristina and like her Personal Growth Gab (PGG) page on Facebook to get more thought-provoking, inspirational and motivational tidbits like this!

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When traveling by myself in Cape Town, South Africa in 2001, just seven years after the end of apartheid, I had a major aha moment while having tea in the lobby of the historic, old-world luxury Mount Nelson Hotel.

Feeling somewhat awkward in my solo budget travel state, I was in the midst of sipping Earl Grey when something clicked within me on the most profound of levels. It occurred to me that due to the mere fact my skin was white - with the bonus of having blonde hair at the time - I was essentially given free rein to go wherever I desired and do whatever I wanted, and no one would ever question me, look at me strangely, or think I didn't belong. 

 

Yes, I was in one of the most segregated countries on the planet, but it really struck me that this applied in a broader context - no matter where I go, simply because of the color of my skin, along with being tall and dressing reasonably well, in addition to being educated and American, I enjoy a certain level of trust, respect (well, this was just before 9/11) and service, and almost always inadvertently avoid outright discrimination and bodily harm, even as a woman (which itself is topic for another discussion, since that is only a very recent phenomena and may apply to less places, but I digress...).

 

Suddenly the phrase "carte blanche," which literally translates as "white card," came into my head and I immediately made the connection to the District Six Museum's display of various ID cards for citizens under that classified system:  White, Coloured, Black, and Indian.  In the United States, and in a global sense, it is an invisible card I carry that gives me entree, ease and yes, a certain unearned privilege, to live a life free of so many stresses, layers of misperceptions, institutionalized prejudice, fear, bias and/or hatred the majority of those of darker shades must endure, and are too often endangered by.

 

I realize in telling you this story I may sound naive, but you have to know this came at a time to someone who from childhood in theory, and more than ten years prior to that moment in practice, was not only quite aware of, but particularly passionate about, the issue of racial inequality and had many interpersonal experiences, observations and relationships informing a significant understanding of the complexities all that entails - earlier that year I had even started a non-profit organization to dispel stereotypes and bigotry in order to bring women together to "Recognize Our Unity" and "Celebrate Our Diversity". 

But being in a place where racism had so recently been explicitly acknowledged and addressed in such a direct manner brought this concept home to me in a way that up until that point in my life, because I am White, had only been subtly perceptible, and even then, only because I was sensitive to the issue.


A couple of years later while waiting in the cold for an MTA bus on First Avenue in the East Village I got to experience this overtness in reverse. Two Black women chose to ditch the delayed public transportation, and I watched in disbelief as two, three, five, six open taxis passed by as they tried to hail them; disgusted, I asked if they needed help, and of course the next cab stopped for me but when the driver realized the Black women, not me, were getting in, he drove away.  Finally I asked where they were going; I was so appalled I decided I would just get in and share it with them. Of course the irony was that they were only going to 78th between First and Second, probably one of the whitest blocks in the city...It was perhaps the closest I will come to know what it must feel like to deal with race on a daily basis, simply trying to accomplish the most mundane of tasks.


Fast forward to February 2012. After my talk at the NY Science, Industry and Business Library a young Black man came up to thank me for what I had shared, how it made him think differently about his life, and pointed out to me what he had written down so he could make positive change going forward. He then said he had recently been released from federal prison, would I be willing to work with people like him?  Well, this began a journey in which I learned more specifically about the consequences of race and the criminal justice system, the roots of mass incarceration and the many barriers to re-entry. It has since widened and deepened my understanding of the unhealed wounds, scars and repercussions of our country's history of slavery.


What we are dealing with in the aftermath of injustice after injustice against people of color are symptoms of a very sick system that is made up of people, and people are crying out for transformation and healing. It is not a Black problem; it is not a White problem. It is a human problem. No matter what card-carrying member of our race you proclaim (or are deemed) to be, we're all in this man-made mess together - and we will only solve it one story, one interaction, one aha moment at a time.  

  

Starting the New Year with a New Dream

What is your dream for the world in 2014 and your part in it? Wisdom from the incredible 98 year old activist, author, philosopher and national treasure Grace Lee Boggs.

We are shaking the world with a new dream from Sacred Resonance on Vimeo.

Feeling the Legacy of Nelson Mandela

CHICKS ROCK! is happy to have Kristina back as a guest blogger this week. Kristina Leonardi is the founder of The Women’s Mosaic. She is a career/life coach, speaker, seminar leader and expert in the areas of career development, work/life wellness and personal growth.

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One of the most significant trips and greatest adventures of my life was when as a result of a TWM Visioning Workshop,  I travelled to South Africa by myself as a delegate from The Women's Mosaic to attend the UN Conference on Racism in Durban, August 2001

 

I first went to Cape Town where I took the public ferry (with Chris Tucker who also happened to be on it - random) out to Robben Island where I was deeply moved learning about Mandela's time there as a prisoner, and understood even more profoundly what an amazing human being he is.  

 

 

But the true testament I believe to his legacy was that just about wherever I went, (which was still very early in the new South Africa) and whoever I interacted with - no matter what their race - was incredibly warm, open and I felt carried within them the spark of light that Mandela so wisely and compassionately lit in his nation's people to work towards reconciliation, tolerance and ultimately, unity. 

 

It is a very special country because of the presence and work of two of humanity's greatest leaders, first a young Mohandas K. Gandhi, and then a wise and evolved Nelson Mandela.

 

All Roads: Same Place

CHICKS ROCK! is happy to have Kristina back as a guest blogger this week. Kristina Leonardi is the founder of The Women’s Mosaic. She is a career/life coach, speaker, seminar leader and expert in the areas of career development, work/life wellness and personal growth.

The following was originally posted on September 25, 2013 on Kristina's blog.

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September is always an exciting time of year for me as world leaders convene on the island of Manhattan for the United Nations General Assembly and the Clinton Global Initiative.

Many of you know my degree is in International Relations. Early on I was a passionate student of languages and cultures, got bit by the travel bug at age 12 after a trip to Spain, Portugal and Morocco with my grandmother; by senior year in high school I was studying Spanish, French and Italian (foregoing chemistry and physics..), Mandarin Chinese freshman year in college, organized international student orientations, studied abroad my third year…you get the picture.

My dream was to one day work for the UN, as my intention and mission in life was to contribute to world peace (I simply didn’t understand why people and countries couldn’t get along just because of race, religion or anything else), so that was a seemingly logical goal. Who grows up wanting to be a career/life coach? Like so many professions today, that didn’t even exist when I was a kid! Ah, but the Universe has a funny way of working things out.

Once I discovered that being employed by the UN did not ultimately fit my skill set or desired environment, I set out to create my own international experiences - teaching middle and high school Spanish, working and traveling with an upscale educational tour operator, teaching Tourism Destinations & Cultures for NYU, and founding my own mini-version of the UN called The Women’s Mosaic, bringing together women from different cultures and backgrounds to learn from and be inspired by one another.

As a result of that creation, I got hooked into the UN, met several times and received praise from Kofi Annan, have attended many of their conferences (I still get verklempt when I am in the auditorium wearing an earpiece…), and before any of this, without consciously trying, ended up living in the very neighborhood where the UN’s headquarters is situated – so for my entire adult life I have been surrounded by diplomats and their missions, sharing my coffee shop, gym and grocery store with them 24/7.

Fast forward to more recently, as my interest and passion for personal growth, empowerment and healing along with my ability to relate to just about anyone, combined with x-ray vision, supersonic hearing, and broad knowledge base of industries, careers and other resources have combined to make me into this very interesting and profoundly effective person I will call a career/life coach for lack of a better title….and I have been helping people professionally in this capacity for over six years.

Last week I had a big ah-ha moment after a Skype session with a new client in Hungary who had attended one of my talks while here on holiday. Although that was only my second international call, I realized just how diverse and, yes, global my clientele is! I have worked with well over a hundred people from all backgrounds – whether foreign nationals here visiting or working temporarily, or folks that were not born here but came as children or adults to live. They hail from Macedonia, Italy, Puerto Rico, Mexico, New Zealand, Dominican Republic, China, Taiwan, Nigeria, Canada, Australia, El Salvador, Russia, Japan, Philippines, and Israel as well as embody the many diverse ethnicities and religions found here; African-American, Haitian, Indian, Persian, Muslim, Jewish, Buddhist, Quaker, and so much more; many of my clients have accents, as English is their second or third language! So DUH, here I am using my degree in ‘International Relations’ yet once again, simply in another form. Pretty cool, huh?

I share all of this not just to illustrate how the thread of my interests and passions have run through everything I do, but also for this: My work with individuals only confirms my theories, thoughts and ideals about countries and humanity as a whole. The more I learn and observe intimately the intricacies of all these seemingly different folks’ journeys and backgrounds, the more I see the hard evidence of how we are all wired as humans with the same desires, dreams, hopes and challenges – no matter what corner of the globe you are from we have far more in common than you can imagine.

Think you’re so special? You are. You have a uniqueness that you bring to this planet. But you are also made of the same stuff as that guy or gal is sitting next to you on the subway, or across the ocean. And because of things like technology and climate change, we are more interconnected than ever. So this week take a moment to expand your horizons - who can you learn about, chat with or help in some way that is out of your normal sphere of influence? How can you Imagine your world for the better? What can you do to think globally but act locally?

Not sure what is the micro in your life that will affect the macro? Give me a buzz and we’ll translate the language of your soul to see how it will weave into the tapestry of history and become that much needed piece of the peace puzzle we are all a part of, no matter who you are or where you come from.

FINAL WEEK: Be sure to take advantage of my special Back to School September discount offer!

At Your Service

The following was originally posted on January 18, 2011 on Kristina's blog.

Kristina Leonardi is the founder of The Women’s Mosaic. She is a career/life coach, speaker, seminar leader and expert in the areas of career development, work/life wellness and personal growth.  Click here for her special caoching rates through the end of January.

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“Life’s most urgent question is: What are you doing for others?” Martin Luther King, Jr.

One of the most common desires I hear from clients when embarking on a new career or making a transition is that they want to be doing something with meaning, something that helps people.

My approach is to ask them, “What is the thing that makes you, you? What you are passionate about; when do you lose track of time?” I inquire as to what their fantasy job would be, and very rarely does that answer have to do with becoming a social worker or joining the Peace Corps.

You don’t have to become the next Mother Teresa, Gandhi or MLK to make a difference and live your life in service to others. Perhaps that may be your path, but as Dr. King also said, “Everyone can be great, because everyone can serve.” Running for public office or volunteering on a regular basis can certainly fill that role, but service can be expressed in a myriad of forms that aren’t always so obvious or grandiose. Just being yourself and doing your best at YOU allows us to benefit from whatever unique gifts and talents you possess.

When one’s work is done with love and integrity, every job is one of service. MLK day is also about celebrating diversity, which can refer to many things including occupation. We all have jobs that make the world go round. Whether it’s the super taking care of your building, the bus driver making sure you get to your destination safely, the guy who makes your coffee and bagel every morning, the janitor that cleans the public restrooms you use, the designer of the clothes you are wearing, the comedian that made you laugh last night, the singer whose song you enjoyed on your Ipod, writer whose novel you devoured over the weekend – no occupation is too insignificant, as long as it is done to the best of one’s ability, you can see how any of those people have served you on some level.

And regardless of your job, there is also the service you can provide by smiling at someone when you’re walking down the street, or showing a kindness to a stranger, and notice how for moment you made someone happy or uplifted them in some way.

The thing that I enjoy most and lose track of time doing is talking to folks about their life’s work and helping them make their everyday existence as meaningful and peaceful as possible. I would love the opportunity to help you connect the dots of your life, create more work/life balance and recognize the value in whatever you do, so just give me a buzz as I am always here, at your service.

Memories Of A Muslim Country

The violence which first erupted last week in response to a contentious anti-Muslim film brings up memories of Indonesia for me. I never saw chaos on the streets of Jakarta or elsewhere in the country, nor did I experience any anti-Western sentiment from those I worked with and lived near to, but I do remember how deeply devout some of my Muslim Indonesian friends and acquaintances were and still are, and how they never made me feel out of place because I was not a Muslim. At shopping malls and all other public places, there are rooms for washing before and after prayers, usually near the restrooms, and rooms for prayer. The daily call for prayer never made me feel uncomfortable; instead I always felt peaceful. I lived in a Muslim country and was not treated like an infidel; I made friends with Muslims and Christians alike, and both groups easily mixed with each other.

When I first heard about the riot outside of the U.S. Embassy in Jakarta, Indonesia, I must admit that it made my blood run cold for a moment; when I heard there was no violence or bloodshed (to date, I have not heard of any) I felt better. I visited this location several times, and always found it a calm place each time I was there, even when I was stressed out about my visa or some other matter. I knew of some anti-Western sentiment, but it never touched me directly. Of course, being of Indian descent may have helped me considerably, because in countries like Indonesia, being white equals being Western most of the time. It is only when I open my mouth to speak that my American accent reveals who I really am, which sometimes confused the Indonesian people I met and even my family members from India. Unlike the latter, the former never tried to make me feel uneasy about my unusual accent and Western identity.

I hate stereotypes of all kinds, and I am just happy to have the experiences of living outside of them, in this country and abroad. I would like to hear more moderate and measured voices between the extremist ones from the West and the East. Is that too much to ask for? Perhaps for now, it is.

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The Power of Words, The Promise of Peace*

The following was originally posted on October 15, 2009. It is being re-posted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Summer Retrospective.

CHICKS ROCK! is happy to have Kristina back as a guest blogger this week:

Kristina Leonardi is the founder of The Women’s Mosaic. She is a career/life path consultant, speaker, seminar leader and expert in the areas of women, diversity and personal growth.


When I was in high school my dream was to work for the United Nations – I excelled at foreign languages and loved learning about other cultures. I studied International Relations and worked extensively with the international student population of my university. I met people from around the globe and was fascinated by the ways we choose to speak, clothe and govern ourselves, the music we develop and myriad of ways we prepare food, how varied the physical geography we inhabit... But under the diversity, it was clear to me that we enjoy the same basic wants, needs and wishes for ourselves and those we love.

I knew I wanted to do work that took advantage of my passion for and understanding of this concept. The UN, in theory, seemed to be the place for me, but the reality was quite different, and so I ended up forming The Women’s Mosaic instead. However, I do live near the UN’s missions and delegates, have been invited to numerous events over the years, and am thrilled to be part of it in my own way.

Every September during the General Assembly, my neighborhood goes into lock-down and this year was no different, except for one extraordinary event. In a speech given by President Obama, the United States, for the first time in decades, actually expressed its commitment to the institution at its core: its ideals and what it represents. The vision of the UN is what we must aspire to and it cannot succeed without everyone's participation, especially a country as powerful as the U.S. I could not have been more proud that day and felt a sigh of relief that things were finally back on the right track.

They were "only words," but they caused a cosmic shift in the perception of who we are and what the UN is capable of. Words are powerful. They are the bridge between thought and action. They are a vital part of any great movement and are often transforming in and of themselves. For these and many more of his words, there is no doubt in my mind that President Obama deserves the Nobel Peace Prize. Words manifest change, internally and externally. And both kinds have value, as they are inexorably intertwined.

Mall Taman Anggrek: My Indonesian Comfort Zone*

This piece was originally posted on October 1, 2008. It is being re-posted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Summer Retrospective, during which we will post a combination of new content and posts from the past. Enjoy!

Mall culture takes on a life of its own in most Southeast Asian cities, like Jakarta. You cannot get away from them; they are everywhere. Mall Taman Anggrek is currently the largest mall in Jakarta. The obnoxiously large building houses more than 500 stores on seven floors. Taman Anggrek is translated to mean “orchid garden” in English, which evokes images of serene beauty and calm. I never understood the name, until I found out there used to be a real orchid garden in that location.

Early in the morning during the week is the best time to enjoy the mall’s interiors. It is a marvel of space, light and marble...a truly impressive sight. Even though I dislike malls in general, I cannot deny that the architects who designed Mall Taman Anggrek are true artists.

It is also a less stressful place to shop, especially for women. We can walk around the mall without being harassed, unlike the congested street fairs that dominate many city neighborhoods. I couldn’t avoid Taman Anggrek, or any mall for that matter. It is where I had to go to find Western sizes of shoes and clothes, and anything else that is familiar from home. I am almost ashamed to admit that these malls are also havens for foreigners like me. I don’t have to worry about getting ripped off like I do in other local establishments. Taman Anggrek is my Third World reminder of home…sort of.

Are malls like Taman Anggrek the best that Jakarta has to offer? Well, yes…and no. The few city museums and monuments I visited are intellectually superior to anything that can be found at the mall. Still, the air conditioning, window shopping, and gourmet fast food trumps culture and history for many locals and foreigners in Indonesia’s polluted and over-populated capital city. When expats like me need to escape from the heat, noise and smells of the Jakarta streets, retreating to the mall is the easiest thing to do.

What is your idea of comfort when you're far away from home?

Gay Marriage Is Right*

This piece was originally posted on June 22, 2011. It is being re-posted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Summer Retrospective, during which we will post a combination of new content and posts from the past. Enjoy!

The ongoing debate about gay marriage, particularly in New York and New Jersey, has flared up annoyance and some anger in me. Every time I think we as a society are moving closer towards acceptance of all law abiding people, regardless of sexual orientation, I am reminded by certain people that we still have a very long way to go. I have heard it said many times that the pursuit of equal rights for gay and lesbian citizens is our latest civil rights movement. People may dispute this vehemently, but I believe it is true.

I think the opposition to gay marriage shared by a number of religious groups is one of the main reasons why I am no longer religious. Born and raised a Roman Catholic and having attended Catholic schools in New Jersey, I felt genuinely repressed and ill at ease with religion as a whole. I always believed in a Higher Power, but I find the bigotry towards gays and lesbians to be contradictory to Christian values of acceptance and love. I have a distinct aversion for people who consider themselves closer to God based simply on which religious group they belong to, especially when they speak words ranging from ignorance to pure hatred towards those they see as outsiders.

As a straight woman who believes that there are many people out there who should not be married due to their destructive personalities, I am also supportive of anyone who wants to enter into the matrimonial state for all the right reasons. Love, friendship, respect, loyalty, and more can be shared by any two people who want to grow old together, and that is a beautiful thing. Regardless of the outcome of the pending vote in New York for or against gay marriage, I will always see any union between two loving people the same way, regardless of sexual orientation. Regulating love is never a good thing.

Women's Words*

The following was originally posted on November 9, 2009. It is being reposted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Summer Retrospective.

I consider myself a feminist, but honestly, gender discrimination isn't something I think deeply about on a daily basis. I'm not so naïve as to believe it's a non-issue, just one that I'm not confronted with too overtly anymore. Turns out, I may need to rethink my position.

I was one of many people upset by Publishers Weekly's recent announcement of their "Top Ten Books of 2009." A list that included no female authors.

Knowing nothing beyond that, my initial reaction was lukewarm. All things being equal, the odds are strongly against an all male list occurring by coincidence, but... it could happen. And they didn't completely ignore women--there were 29 included in their "Top 100." Still, a low total. As I considered it, the less lukewarm I became. A little steamed. A lot steamed. Hot.

I spent several days in dialogue with other women writers, collectively bent on responding. After all, who else was going to spotlight this oversight? As articles were written, and the conversation unfolded online, the range of public opinion stretched far and wide. From the overtly sexist ("Women just can't write as well as men."), to the inane ("It was a bad year for women writers."), to the delusional ("We're in a post-gender America. Quality trumps quotas."), arguments abounded. Few people seemed willing to accept our critique and move on.

All in all, I observed more anger directed at the women who were protesting the PW list, than at the list itself. Many people seem to believe that PW should be allowed to have their opinion about the best books of the year, without anyone second-guessing them, yet women writers aren't allowed to disagree without being pegged as reverse-sexist, or worse, a special-interest minority group vying for an unearned piece of the recognition pie.

In the end, does any of it matter? The PW editors and their sexism--whether intentional or subconscious--matter very little in the long run. It is just one list, one moment, one group's opinion. The true value of this experience, for me, was watching women writers come together to say something important. It's unfortunate to realize that we still have reason to unite in protest, but it's good to know that we still can.

The War on Bullying

I have mixed feelings about the sentence handed down on Monday in the Rutgers webcam spying case. While I was satisfied with the decision at first, I became less sure of it when I saw and heard the Ravis (the defendant’s parents) plead for leniency on their son’s behalf. Never once in their impassioned speeches did they attempt to reach out to the Clementis to express remorse to them for their loss. Did the defendant physically push his late roommate to his death off the George Washington Bridge? No. Did he intimidate and bully an emotionally fragile young man because of his sexuality? The jurors, the judge, and many others are convinced; I am too.

I know bullies, because I have family members, former classmates and former friends who share this dubious distinction. I remember feeling sick to my stomach when I had to be around any of them as a child, because they seemed to enjoy making me feel worse than I already did about myself. I was never a victim of cyber bullying, but I do recall having unflattering comments about me spread like wildfire. When all eyes were on me due to ridicule, I remember feeling that I wanted to be anyone else but me at those moments. Yet no matter how bad it got for me, I never wanted to end my life as a result. I also remember those who were bullied far worse than I ever was. Memories of what happened to these individuals still haunt me.

I wonder about families of bullies, like the Ravis, who see their child and themselves as misunderstood victims. Insincere apologies are worse than no apologies at all, at least I think so. Still, it is troubling that the defendant has never expressed sympathy to his late roommate’s family for his passing. Perhaps the years will open his eyes to the consequences of his actions; perhaps they won’t. Even though the sentence in this case is lenient, I still believe the bullies are losing in the war against them and their actions. It is about time.

Hometown Pride

When I go home to the place I grew up, it's always nice to see familiar things. To eat in familiar restaurants, shop in stores that don't exist elsewhere, and generally re-experience the best sights, sounds and flavors of my childhood.

One of those flavors happens to be DeBrand Fine Chocolates, a small (you guessed it) chocolate maker based in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Best. Chocolates. Ever. I say this as a person who isn't always a big chocolate fan. I always choose vanilla ice cream. When it comes to candy bars, I'm more likely to go for sweet and fruity Skittles rather than bitter dark chocolate. But I do love DeBrand. They make everything, from simple filled chocolates to elaborate mounded truffles and exotic designer chocolates. All tasty.

Despite appearances, I'm not trying to be an advertisement for DeBrand here. As a kid, I didn't even know DeBrand was a local company that people might not have heard of. I assumed they were everywhere. So when I grew up and learned that this special treat was Fort Wayne-specific, I was a little disappointed. They always seemed bigger than that to me.

I'm especially fond of DeBrand's new Faces of Diversity chocolates, which feature light to dark chocolates molded in the shape of faces. About a year ago, I saw these particular chocolates featured in O magazine in their "Look What We Found" feature, which shows off little novelty gifts and accessories.

I remember feeling so proud of seeing a Fort Wayne thing appear in a national magazine. Unaccountably proud. I remember thinking how neat it was that something from my hometown had come to the attention of someone as influential as Oprah. (Okay, that might be a stretch--it's doubtful that she takes note of every detail even in her own magazine.) But I was having a particularly rough day, as I recall, and it meant something to me, to see a little box of chocolates I knew well had made it to the big time. It sounds cheesy, maybe, but it gave me hope.

At home over the holidays, I received a Faces of Diversity box for Christmas. I'm still savoring them, bit by bit!

Do NOT Read This Post

Doesn't that title make you want to read whatever I'm going to say just a little bit more? I thought so. This is one of the things that's always puzzled me about censorship; despite all the various forms it takes (some more insidious than others), in the process of trying to stop people from seeing or reading something, you often end up calling more attention to it and inspiring interest from people who might not have even noticed it otherwise.

This topic is on my mind because authors and book lovers around the country recently celebrated Banned Books Week, which is our way of honoring artists who speak truth and whose words contain a particular kind of power that has the potential to frighten small-minded people, those who want the whole world to agree with them on every imaginable perspective. As someone who's spent a great deal of my life dealing with diversity--embracing, encouraging and embodying it--I can't stand the thought of opinions being suppressed, and people's minds and hearts being suppressed along with them.

It's something of a badge of pride among published authors (especially young adult authors, I'd say) if your work has been challenged by a school board, a PTA, or a conclave of concerned citizens. We're proud of the impact our books can have, and we understand it very well, because lots of other people's books have had an impact on us--as young people, as writers, as humans. Books can touch readers in ways that no other media can. As authors, we know we have the power to reach people--maybe not to change their minds, but to make them think. And why is that so scary?

During Banned Books Week, I kept thinking about my own writing. I don't know if my books have been challenged...yet...but I know they will be in the future, because I write about things that make some people uncomfortable. Racism, classism, death, sex, violence, power. I write about genuine fears and deep loves, the way we hurt one another and the way we're affected by tragedies. And, particularly, how it all starts when we're young.

In 1992, Stephen King wrote an op-ed after some of his books were removed from school libraries, saying: "When a book is banned, a whole set of thoughts is locked behind the assertion that there is only one valid set of values, one valid set of beliefs, one valid perception of the world. It's a scary idea, especially in a society which has been built on the ideas of free choice and free thought. ....As a nation, we've been through too many fights to preserve our rights of free thought to let them go just because some prude with a highlighter doesn't approve of them."

Not much has changed in twenty years. Hopefully, twenty years from now it'll all be better. In the meantime, I'll settle for being amused by the attention that people draw to the books they challenge, and I will continue supporting other writers in the effort to keep our books on shelves in even the most tightly-closed corners of the country. I'll study all the handy, lengthy lists of "banned" or challenged books, and see what piques my interest.

Truth Behind A Resignation

My mother’s former church made the local news this month. The former choir director, who happens to be a gay man, resigned after working there for decades because a new priest made homophobic remarks to him in private. As someone with some firsthand knowledge of the situation, I can read uninformed, bigoted comments posted to the articles about this story and easily shake off my annoyance, because I know they have no idea what they are talking about.

The former choir director also taught at the Catholic high school I attended. I never took any of his classes, but I was told by some of my classmates that he was very tough and unyielding with his students. I also attended church reluctantly every Sunday, where I saw him lead the choir with confidence. He was one of the main attractions to the church, so much so that I believe most people who came to church were looking forward more to the music than to what any of the priests had to say. This is just my assumption, of course; I always felt like an outsider to the Catholic community I was surrounded by, and found the music performed at the church to be less than inspiring. There was skill and talent behind it, but I was never moved.

What angers me about my former church is how disrespectful they became. The former choir director was a fixture at the church, and the Franciscan priests appeared to be as respectful of him as he was to them. Since the church’s transfer out of the Franciscan order into another Archdiocese this summer, things changed considerably. The new priest’s openly homophobic, aggressive demeanor put off more than just the former choir director; my mother transferred to another church because of it. Attendance is already dwindling, so this could mean the end of the church. If that is how it has to be, then so be it. I believe that if this church continues on this path, the constant alienation will lead to its downfall.

Gay Marriage Is Right

The ongoing debate about gay marriage, particularly in New York and New Jersey, has flared up annoyance and some anger in me. Every time I think we as a society are moving closer towards acceptance of all law abiding people, regardless of sexual orientation, I am reminded by certain people that we still have a very long way to go. I have heard it said many times that the pursuit of equal rights for gay and lesbian citizens is our latest civil rights movement. People may dispute this vehemently, but I believe it is true.

I think the opposition to gay marriage shared by a number of religious groups is one of the main reasons why I am no longer religious. Born and raised a Roman Catholic and having attended Catholic schools in New Jersey, I felt genuinely repressed and ill at ease with religion as a whole. I always believed in a Higher Power, but I find the bigotry towards gays and lesbians to be contradictory to Christian values of acceptance and love. I have a distinct aversion for people who consider themselves closer to God based simply on which religious group they belong to, especially when they speak words ranging from ignorance to pure hatred towards those they see as outsiders.

As a straight woman who believes that there are many people out there who should not be married due to their destructive personalities, I am also supportive of anyone who wants to enter into the matrimonial state for all the right reasons. Love, friendship, respect, loyalty, and more can be shared by any two people who want to grow old together, and that is a beautiful thing. Regardless of the outcome of the pending vote in New York for or against gay marriage, I will always see any union between two loving people the same way, regardless of sexual orientation. Regulating love is never a good thing.

Musings About The Freedom Riders

Fifty years ago this month, black and white activists risked their lives by taking interstate buses and sitting where they wanted in them; they boarded them in Washington D.C. and went into the racially segregated South. The Freedom Riders were taught not to use violence to defend themselves before the trip began, and as a result made a significant impact on the early days of the Civil Rights Movement in the United States. When I realized that it had been fifty years since the Freedom Rides, I made sure to watch television programs and read anything I could about them. I am impressed and humbled by the bravery and endurance of the civil rights activists who were beaten and almost killed by mobs in Birmingham, Anniston, and Montgomery Alabama. I also wonder about myself; if I was of age in 1961, would I have been inspired to become a Freedom Rider? Would I have had the fortitude to face the vengeance of the angry Ku Klux Klan (KKK) and other racists? Hearing the stories of the Freedom Riders, who recently commemorated their 50th anniversary with some college students by taking buses and re-tracing the same routes, reminds me of the human capacity of true greatness.

I would like to think I would join the cause, if I lived during this time, even though I would have been very frightened. The evils of racial segregation are intolerable to me, so I think this would have been a strong enough reason to overcome my fears. At the same time, I may have been dissuaded by my Mother’s feelings about my safety. Facing angry mobs of people and violence at their hands would change me forever, but perhaps this would be a good thing in the long run, especially in the years after the Civil Rights Movement. The bottom line is that I will never know what it was like for the Freedom Riders, but I can remember their struggles and triumphs.

Do you ever wonder what you would have done had you lived during the Freedom Rides, or other events like them?

Give A Gift, Be An Ally

Time is flying quickly. Thanksgiving has passed and the end-of-year holidays will be here before we know it. Even though I'm personally trying not to "deal" with the holidays just yet, I'm reminded that this is a time of year when a lot of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people choose to come out to their family or friends for the first time. I want to use my few paragraphs here today to celebrate that fact, but also to offer a bit of advice and a few resources to those who may unexpectedly find themselves in the position of being an ally this holiday season.

Make no mistake: to be an ally and supporter to an "out" person is a valuable gift--one that no monetary purchase can ever hope to equal. I believe that the simple words "I love you" and "I support you" can go a long way toward making someone feel at ease to be themselves around you. Don't underestimate how important such a simple and FREE offering can be.

The news lately has been peppered with stories of young people who've fallen so far from a feeling of acceptance that they've resorted to taking their own lives because of bullying or fear related to being gay, bi or trans. Each and every one of these stories breaks my heart. I want to do my part to stop these tragedies from occurring, because I believe every person, regardless of his/her sexuality, is special and beautiful and has meaning in the world.

I've considered myself an ally for many years now, and I've struggled with sexuality in my own ways, and in the midst of that I've learned a few simple tricks allies can employ that might help people feel comfortable to "come out" to you:

• Consider using gender-neutral language as much as possible when talking about romantic relationships (i.e. substitute "partner" for "boyfriend" or "girlfriend," even when you know the sex/gender of the person you're referring to)
• Along the same lines, ask broadly-definable questions (i.e., "Are you seeing anyone?" as opposed to "Met any nice guys lately?" or "Do you have a girlfriend?"
• When appropriate, make reference to your support of issues like same-sex marriage, ordination of gay clergy, anti-bullying, or your beliefs on equality, sexuality or human rights. Alternately, be open-minded and willing to engage different opinions even when expressing opposition to or questions about such issues.
• Honesty is important: if you can speak about your own struggles, and express your own questions and doubts, other people will respond in kind.

Also, here are some organizations and quick-link resources for people who are or wish to become allies:

• Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD)'s ally page helps us understand "How to be an Ally and a Friend."
• Human Rights Campaign (HRC) introduces ways to remain politically active on issues affecting LGBTQ communities.
• Parents, Family and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG) offers support, resorces and activism opportunities for families and allies.
• Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network (GLSEN) provides information and resources to create safe schools and to fight bullying.

Do you know of other resources for allies? Have you had any experience being an ally, or drawing on the support of allies? What has been helpful for you?

The Nature of Bullying

One summer in my childhood, when my family and I were preparing to visit family in India, a priest who knew my mother called her to ask if she would give his family a cheese wheel from him when she was there. My mother agreed, not knowing it would be almost as large as one of our suitcases. When she saw the cheese wheel for herself, she politely refused to pack it for obvious reasons. The priest was furious with her, and never treated us kindly after that. The problem was that because my mother is so nice, he thought he could tell her what to do and she would oblige, no matter how inconvenient the request. He and many others taught me about the nature of bullying, and the lessons still resonate with me today.

It is generally believed that being nice is equal to weakness, even though most of us would not admit it openly. I was once seen as both too kind and easy to manipulate, and I admit that I was in the past. I realize now that true benevolence comes from strength, not weakness. I was afraid to stand up for myself when I was bullied as a child in school, because I thought I would make things worse if I did. I was awkward in my own skin, a minority in my mostly white Roman Catholic grammar school, and the teachers were also part of the problem.

Bullying has made national news again with the suicide of a college freshman and the actions that probably led to this devastating end. I think about the bullies in my life, and realize that they taught me how not to treat other people and to speak out against the behavior, even when others are not supportive. I’m not afraid to stand up for myself and others who are the targets of bullying, even if I am not seen as a nice person because of it. I know who I am now, and no one’s contradictions can change that.

What are your thoughts on bullying?

Welcome Diversity To The Neighborhood

Earlier this month, a new Indian restaurant opened just minutes from where I live. There never was anything like it in our neighborhood before, and its arrival is a pleasant surprise to me. Having an Indian restaurant nearby means more than just the food of course; it means more diversity and choices in our area, and that is a very good thing. The owner of the establishment told us that an Indian grocery store will be opening next door, which lifted my spirits. I don’t always have to drive more than a half hour to other parts of New Jersey or take the bus into New York City to get a good mango lassi or buy amla oil. Soon, both will be available in my neighborhood, and it is both reassuring and convenient on so many levels.

Sure, we have President Obama and the Civil Rights’ Movement is decades old, but I never forget that there are elements of racism and ignorance all around me. Once, my family was the only one of color on our side of town; there was another Indian family who lived on the other side. Now, there are numerous Indian families living on every block. I also see more orthodox Muslims moving into the area, and they go about their lives wearing their traditional dress without being bothered by anyone. Large communities of Hasidic Jews, Hispanics, and African Americans all live in a nearby town, and it makes me feel good being around everyone in the local park. I know that perfection doesn’t exist, and there are simmering resentments felt by people that I don’t know about, but I believe that those generations who went before us and wanted what we have now would be glad to know how far we have come.

So while most people think of the Indian restaurant as another place to eat, I see it as a good omen. Is it a stretch to think so? Maybe, but I think the future looks brighter with its arrival in the neighborhood.