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I went to F.H. LaGuardia High School of Music and Art & Performing Arts. I was a drama major.The people in the drama program were notoriously extroverted. At 15 years old I had an extroverted side, but I also had a deep rich internal world that I wouldn't let anyone penetrate. I was in my own head a lot. I was thinking about the world and my relationship to it. I was anxious and I was depressed. I was having existential crises on a daily basis.I would wake up with my heart pounding, scared that I was going to die some day.Meanwhile, everyone around me was laughing and putting on lipstick.I can't imagine what other people thought of me.Maybe they thought I was a snob, because I was shy.Perhaps they thought I was an elitist because I was afraid to share my real feelings about things for fear that my peers would call me weird.I didn't know that a panic attack was something I couldn't control.I felt weak. I felt different.I used theater as a way to cope with depression and anxiety.I transmitted all my pain, all my anxiety in acting. When I performed Anne Frank, I became her.  I [...]

Yesterday, I came out of acupuncture. I made my way to my car. It was 8pm. I pulled out of the parking spot I was in. It was 100 degrees outside and I was tired, very tired. I'd spent the day teaching 11 two year-olds. President street was dimly lit. I turned away for a split second, and I felt it. Metal collided with metal. My body jolted. The car flew up in the air and came crashing down with a thump. My heart left my body. When I came to, I was in the car, stuck. I was attached to the wheel of a black vehicle. Behind me was a van. The impact from the crash had pushed the van from the street onto the sidewalk.  It was surreal. I was unreal. A woman came running out of her building: "You could have died!" She shouted.  A man came and asked if I was all right. "I think so. I'm just shaken." He gave me a hug.  It was just me. My kids were at home. Thank G-d they were not there. Thank everything, they were safe. Two elderly women came out of their building. "You could have died!" [...]

Inspiration comes in spurts.When it hits me I feel a gold glittery light enter my chest and disperse itself through my body shattering into tiny pieces, entering my bloodstream and turning what was red into bright gold. I am electric, charged, and the golden blood rushes through my veins, from my heart into my arms and through my fingertips. My hands are vibrating with words, they can't stop, they don't stop, they won't stop. They keep going.I have a lot to say, and it's coursing through my veins.This spirit wants to be heard.Who are you?What do you want to tell me?It's my grandmother. She wants to tell me something.She wants me to write.She wants me to use what I have and share it with the world."Let it out!" She says "Share your gift."I'm listening to her.

Dear MTA,Today I was with my daughter at the Grand Street subway station. I had to refill my Metrocard because it only had $1.25 on it. As you know, it costs more than that to ride the subway these days, and that ride is not worth more than a dime if you ask me. I know you haven't asked me, but I'm telling you anyway. Anyhow, I inserted my Metrocard into the vending machine because all I had with me was my debit card in terms of funding for this expenditure. Well, as soon as the Metrocard entered the machine it got stuck! I was extremely surprised as that has never occurred in my entire native New Yorker life.So I did what any reasonable human being would do under these circumstances, I went up to the token booth (yes I still call it that even though we've moved on to Metrocards) and asked the woman sitting in the booth:"Hi, my Metrocard is stuck in the machine, what do I do?""Did you get a receipt?" She asked."No, because it's stuck in there and the screen is frozen.""Here's an envelope. Send your card to this address so you can get reimbursed.""Well I [...]

I've been teaching two year-olds now for three days. It's intense, exhausting, exhilarating, fun, confusing, maddening and fascinating. I've changed a million diapers. But I've also sang many songs, danced, made silly faces, created glittery hats, marched in a parade, made flags, read fairytales, and played catch.I wish I could show you how cute these kids are. There's a lot of cleaning involved with this job too. I've cleaned this classroom way more than I've ever cleaned my own house.My first day was a train wreck. A new girl wandered off and fell in the toilet.But after that I started to get better at my job.The biggest lesson I've learned and the most important is this: slow down.Yes, I live in New York City, one of thefastest paced cities in the world. But these children have only been on this planet for two years and I've been here 33 years. There's a big difference.Take it slow. Break every transition down. And most importantly stay consistent and sing a lot of songs. 🙂

I was born and raised in New York City. As a child, I remember being taken to various restaurants, museums, and other typically "adult-centric establishments."Now I have my own children. And guess what? No one wants children around in public places in New York City.I cannot tell you how many restaurants I've been to where I've gotten dirty looks because my daughter is two years old and wants to run up and down the aisle of the place. I try to tell her to sit down, but she doesn't listen to me. I try to threaten her "we're going to leave if you don't behave." Then she listens for a minute and promptly proceeds to do whatever I told her not to do because she's two.I try to discipline my kids. But you know what, even when they're behaving "normally" I still get dirty looks from people in public places.I know I'm a good parent and I do the best that I can. But I think there may be a geographic problem here. New York is not a child-friendly city.My friend Bonnie lived in Portland, Oregon for some time. She told me that she was able to take her children [...]