The Inside Press

Magazines serving the communities of Northern Westchester

Et Cetera

Extra-Curricular Matters and Lessons in Life

by

Motivational Speaker Geri Mariano. Carolyn Simpson Photo.
Motivational Speaker Geri Mariano. Carolyn Simpson Photo

By Geri Mariano

I am not a parent, so the ubiquitous phrase “Back to School” does not elicit the glee it might otherwise from adults counting down the days until their children leave the house each morning. However, I am excited that the school year is fast approaching. And the reason for that is simple: school had, and still has, a tremendous impact on my life.

Unabashedly, I was one of those students who actually looked forward to returning to the routine of school each September. While I enjoyed the summer months, my physical limitations (I was born with abnormalities of all things skeletal) meant that I could never be as active as most kids. Therefore, school was a place I could belong–and even thrive academically –with peers for six to seven hours each day. So, during the spring of 1972, my mom and I made the rounds of Northern Westchester school districts as I was due to start Kindergarten come September. Our mission was to meet school administrators and find which districts would welcome a student with special needs; there was no federal mandate to publically educate children with disabilities at that time.

In all my presentations, I give much credit to the Byram Hills School District for accepting me before it was legally required to do so. Was everything hunky-dory from my first day to graduation thirteen years later? No. Were restrictions placed for my own “safety” (and likely school liability)? Yes. Were parents more nervous than my fellow Kindergartners? Yes! Was I made to feel an oddity from classmates? Happily, mostly No … and this is why I embarked, several years ago now, on sharing my stories.

When at Smith College, unable to walk quickly about campus, I zoomed around on what I affectionately called my “buggy”. My daily routes (to classes and my work-study job) took me past a campus pre-school where, unsurprisingly, the children who saw me would stare, point or giggle. A wise teacher flagged me down one day and asked if I might meet with the children. I readily accepted. Introducing myself, I asked them if I looked “funny.” When they admitted that I did, I agreed with them. I don’t remember all we talked about, but, when leaving, I suggested that now that they knew me, maybe I wouldn’t look so weird to them. Suddenly, I had many new friends, and each day after, there were waves and shouts of “Hi Geri!”

Geri in elementary school.
Geri in elementary school.

Pieces of a puzzle I hadn’t realized existed began falling into place. 
I thought of my Byram Hills classmates and how they had always known me. Years later, when reconnecting with many through social media, they all confirmed my hypothesis: they’d always accepted me because they always knew me as just Geri, one of them. I was never a stranger, so I was never seen as “different.” And had they known of any bullying incidents, each offered they would have quickly taken care of the situation. What an amazing gift!

Still, I am reminded how important it is to teach our children, and how adults in particular have their part to play–especially after one discouraging encounter at a local department store.

A group of three or four pre-teen girls began following me around while I was shopping alone. I can accept a look here, a stare there, even a pointed finger or snicker. But what I cannot abide are triple takes or being trailed by youth of an age that should be better mannered. I remember turning, raising my shortened arms, asking “do you have a problem?” The girls quickly moved away, but, minutes later, stealthily began following me again. I then turned to track them to the adult charged with their behavior. Loathe as I am to complain to a stranger, I interrupted this woman on her cell phone and simply stated that the girls had been very rude. Shrugging, the woman responded, “What do you expect?” I expect adults and parents to do better.

My mom often admitted I was dealt a bad hand and that life isn’t fair. However, she’d continue, that did not mean the world owed me anything; nothing would be handed to me on a silver platter. Has life been a struggle? Yes. Have I had good times over the years? Absolutely. Would I like life to be easier? Of course. But I’d also like to see better understanding in the world for a whole host of difficulties.

I choose to do my part to facilitate that understanding, at least of differences, in our community and elsewhere. Will you join me? 
Thanks, Just Geri

Longtime Armonk resident Geri Mariano was born with diatrophic dysplasia, a lifelong condition that affects bone and cartilage resulting in many physical and social challenges. To learn more about Geri, please visit her website: 
www.justcallmegeri.com

Taking Worthwhile Risks

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AerialistsHC1307_X_300_C_YBy Randi J. Brosterman

Safety rules–driving safely, behaving safely, and exercising appropriate caution are all necessary for our survival.   So here’s the question: Can risk taking be a good thing? Certainly, thoughtfulness and preparedness are needed, and a willingness to seize the 
moment when opportunity comes knocking.

In my first job out of college, I was miserable. Working until 11 p.m. daily, the window of time between my work clothes and my pajamas got smaller and smaller, until there was no time for my blue jeans in between. I quit my job without another job in hand, thinking that at age 24, I needed to have enough guts to go find another job on my own. I was gainfully and happily employed within three months.

Later, in the spring of 1987, I interviewed for a summer job between my two years of MBA education. Although I was well qualified, the interviewer told me she had no positions available. I said, “Well, you have my resume, I have your card…if you sell a big project this summer, call me.” As I was walking out of her office, I turned to her and said, “The risk you run in not hiring me is your competition will.” I’m not sure where I got the chutzpah at age 26 to say something so brash, but she called me back the next day; she had created a summer position for me.

At about the same time in my life, on the personal front, I learned to scuba dive, traveled alone to Southeast Asia and entered into long-term relationship. Each of these choices felt risky and scary, but pushing through my fear enabled me to establish some of the most satisfying aspects of my life.

Nine years later, I was presented with the opportunity to move to a start-up, mid-market business within my firm. I had only one requirement, which I was not shy about voicing. I wanted to know if I would have an opportunity to become a partner. It was the best career move I ever made

Leadership experts I’ve long admired often liken risk-taking to a trapeze act –you don’t have an act unless you are willing to let go of the bar! Over time, I’ve learned to live by these words.

We live in a town where safety is our overriding concern. As the 2014 HGHS class Salutatorian shared at this year’s commencement, “We are among the most privileged people on the planet…we live in a bubble.”

So how do we begin to think about moving out of our comfort zone, when safety is our overriding concern? What are healthy risks, that don’t compromise our safety, yet help to move us forward to new places?

As I learned from my statistics professor in college, there is a clear difference between a risk and a gamble. A risk is something you can assess, assign probabilities to outcomes, and calculate an expected result. A gamble has none of these attributes.

Taking risks can involve travelling to new places, changing professions, or walking away from an unhealthy relationship. Taking risks involves self-empowerment to try something new, to speak out, rather than be silent, to choose constructive action, instead of settling for passivity.

Self-empowerment to pursue one’s passion has the potential to result in true happiness. Optimism and constructive risk taking can be healthy and fun. So here are a few guiding principles that have worked for me and might resonate with you:

  1.  Desired outcome. Envision what you would like the outcome to be.
  2. Preparation. Do your homework, come to situations prepared.
  3. Stretch zone. Be willing to move out of your comfort zone.
  4. Self-empowerment. Move past the fear: be brave.
  5. Letting go. Be willing to let go of the bar.

I recently decided to retire from the firm where I was a partner for 15 of 26 years. At 55 years old, I have once again decided to let go of the bar. Risk taking at this time of life has a whole new resonance for me. There is still plenty of fear mixed with a world of excitement. While I’ve had a great career to date, I’m looking forward to the next chapter.

My experience taking risks in life and in the business world has consistently led to new and interesting opportunities. Looking back, I take great pride in these moments, which ultimately led to greater happiness for me, personally and professionally.

Randi Brosterman is a local resident who seeks to inspire leadership in women through self-empowerment.

It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing)*

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jazz-playerIn the 1930’s, Armonk was one hip hamlet. Though America was 
in the midst of the Great Depression, Armonk’s merchants were busy. Crowds of tourists drove in their Studebakers, Fords and Cadillacs from New York City and beyond to eat, drink and dance their worries away in this remote corner of the county.

Over a dozen restaurants, bars and dance halls flourished back then. The Armonk police were called at all hours of the night by reveling couples who, on the spur of the moment, decided they wanted to wed and needed the appropriate official to do so. Now the epitome of “family-oriented,” Armonk had, back then, earned the moniker “Sin City.”

Small, but never small-time, Armonk’s largest draw was The Log Cabin. Live bands featuring musicians like Tommy Dorsey, Benny Goodman, Gene Krupa and Doris Day regularly performed for up to 1500 patrons at a time. The floors of the Log Cabin creaked and moaned as music poured across neighboring farmland and orchards. Five cents for a hot dog, or ten cents for a hamburger, was all it took to enjoy an entire night of listening and dancing to the best live Big Band music the world had to offer.

With its illustrious past and handsome new infrastructure, Armonk is ripe for an old-fashioned revival. Downtown’s appealing new landscape provides ample gathering places and spaces for people to socialize. The stage is set.

“Swing” may be just the symbol or guiding image we need to pay respect to Armonk’s roots while ushering in a new era. With its driving intensity and abandon, Swing represented freedom and pleasure amidst the financial hardships of the 30’s. It also served
to ease the social tension of the era; men, women, young, old, black, white all danced the Swing. Everyone, figuratively and literally, was on the 
same footing!

Swing brought tolerance, mutual respect, and cooperation. It was grown by individuals who were able to suspend judgment and incorporate new sounds from diverse musical lineages. While the Great Depression was devastating, it also forced people to turn to what economists and others now call “social capital”.

Social capital, as distinguished from money or material goods, is an under-recognized but vital component of a healthy community. It is goodwill, fellowship, empathy and concern for others. It bonds people together. Data have found that communities high in social capital have children with fewer emotional disturbances and an adult population with a lower incidence of heart disease and a greater life expectancy than matched communities rated low on social capital.

In his books, articles and TED talks, contemporary writer and philosopher Alain De Botton reports that one of the losses modern society feels most keenly is the loss of a sense of community: “We imagine that where there once was neighborliness, there is now a ruthless anonymity, characterized by pursuit of contact with others for purely individualistic gains.” As we’ve become increasingly secular, many have switched worship of God to worship of professional success. “What do you do?” is our way of introduction in new social groups; the answer can determine acceptance or marginalization by the community.

It is no surprise, then, that we throw ourselves with a vengeance into our careers. Focusing on work
to the exclusion of almost everything else feels necessary–not only for 
financial security, but to thrive psychologically.

Demonstrating kindness, acceptance, acknowledgement, and appreciation in small ways to those we encounter in our community (and noticing when others do so to us) is what creates social capital. The feeling that one “belongs” in a group, is a valued member in his or her community, fills an essential human need. Small increases in social capital may help us to work a little less feverishly while becoming healthier, more productive and happier…not a bad equation.

Armonk’s revival has begun. The stage is set. A small swing in investment toward social capital and this town will be rocking.

*Music by Duke Ellington, lyrics by Irving Mills

Dr. Rachel Levy-Lombara, an Armonk resident, mom, and licensed Clinical 
Psychologist, uses evidence-based approaches along with a focus on identifying and nurturing a client’s strengths and genius to help people “swing’”from surviving to thriving. She practices in Chappaqua and can be contacted at DrLevyLombara@aol.com.