The Inside Press

Magazines serving the communities of Northern Westchester

Inside Thoughts

Notes of Deep Gratitude

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From the Founder and Director of the Chappaqua Children’s Book Festival

Have you ever had the feeling of teetering but somehow knowing that a safety net was beneath you, ready to make sure you didn’t hit the ground?

This was the disorienting but ultimately comforting feeling I had in March and April of this year. I was hospitalized and in intensive care and yet knew that my friends and community would take care of me and my boys…and somehow make sure the Chappaqua Children’s Book Festival would go on.

Dawn Evans Greenberg. Dawn’s Hair and Makeup Courtesy of Aura Salon and Style Bar in Chappaqua. www.auraboutiquesalon.com Photo by Donna Mueller

I had to hand over control to my husband, Paul, and to friends, and just focus on keeping myself alive for Jackson and Ben, my teenage sons. I don’t recommend falling ill, but for a means to learn to appreciate every breath we’re allowed, becoming vulnerable that way can’t be topped.

I entered the hospital for elective surgery on February 10th. My next memory was waking up to dozens of cards taped to my hospital wall. The cards were the only thing that held my attention–the only thing that made any sense. I recognized “Ossining Children’s Center” and read the message over and over again. And why did author Dan Gutman feel the need to write “get better soon?”  I was flattered but also puzzled. How did he know where I was and how did he know I needed well wishes?

The date was March 1st and I had lost three weeks of my life. I had a tube coming out of my trachea. I couldn’t speak or lift my arm.

The cards and what they represented from the community ended up being a highlight of my days. My husband would drive to NYU Langone Hospital each afternoon, always with more cards. So many cards. He told me that two dear friends Karen Visser and Robin Chwatko were taking care of our kids, along with dozens of other friends jumping in to help, even coordinating walking our beloved dog Flare. Beloved merchants reached out too. The Kings’ Scribe was facilitating the cards and they never seemed to stop. I couldn’t count them all and still treasure each one. 

Each day my husband would offer me my iphone, usually my umbilical cord, and I flat out declined it–a sign of just how sick I was. But he also knew I was worried about the festival and kept me current on book festival developments. Paul assured me that our volunteers were making sure it would happen in October. As the days went by toward my discharge of April 10th, I started to feel relief and excitement about getting back to real life.

Now, we’re three weeks away from the festival. I have gradually gotten stronger and feel incredibly optimistic about the future. The love that our community showed me that my family will be with me throughout the rest of my life. I will never stop being grateful.  

 

 

 

 

 

Nesting from Chapp to Tapp

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At Stephen’s 50th birthday, all four of us in Chappaqua

When my kids were little, one of our favorite bedtime books was The Best Nest by P.D. Eastman. I can still recite much of it from memory, maybe they can too; I know my oldest could “read” it well before he could read. But I digress. Point is, that beloved story is foremost on my mind these days as Mr. Bird and I prepare to leave our empty nest and settle into a smaller coop. Or, in our case, condo.

It’s a daunting task, moving. And, perversely, it gets daunting-er the older you get. Dorm-moves? Mostly trash bags and buy the boys some beer. First apartment? Ikea flat packs and the boys still like their beer. New home? Ok, this time we call the professionals–but it’s one small truck and all kinds of excitement. And space, lots and lots of space. Space to grow a family, to buy adult furniture, to fill closets and fulfill dreams. Decades worth. So, at the end of nearly 27 years, the tangibles and intangibles are simply too numerous to name. You pack your real and virtual boxes and pack a huge emotional punch along the way.

Enjoying our New ‘Hood

That said, and unlike the Birds, this is really it. No deciding to stay after all. The house sold quickly and the new owners are…well, lol, they’re us, 30 years later. That old saying “the more things change, the more they stay the same”? Too true! They are perfect for our young neighborhood, and we wish them nothing but happiness in our/their home.

Today, they are coming by to re-see the house, to take measurements, to have me “walk them through” how everything works. I have prepared lists for them–HVAC to lawn maintenance to snow removal, all the nuts and bolts. For them, I suppose that, not the move, is the daunting thing. But I’d like to think they’re also coming to imagine themselves into their future lives here…

Which kid gets which kid-room? Will they have bath time rituals, and will those rituals include fish stories (fish tiles inspire fish stories, or so we always thought). Will they put in a swing set (do we still call them that!?) and will it go where ours was? Can they see the bus stop across the street? Every morning it’s packed with kids and cars, parents and pets. I still have my first-day photos for K-5; maybe they will do the same.

Will they love the smell of lilacs wafting into the kitchen, the lilacs I specifically planted there because they remind me of MY childhood summers. Do they have a dog, will they get a dog, should I mention the garbage truck guys carry dog biscuits for all the furbabies out walking in the ‘hood.

And for us? Well, the whole thing started even before this seller’s market. We knew we’d outgrown our neighborhood and, to be honest, also our home. While we built it, and still love it, we no longer need all this space and the upkeep it requires. So, we took a deep breath, extended our wings and jumped. We hope we’ve chosen a soft landing. We’ll be just down the road–nearby enough to see friends and frequent favorite places, but new enough to re-invent ourselves to some extent, to test our senior wings in a new lifestyle. The plan is to rent for a couple of years while winding down to final retirement and deciding whether to fully stick around or finally cut the NY area cord. Ultimately, we hope to tweet with Bird-like contentment that we’re well and truly best-nested.

Three Sure Fire Ways to Succeed at High School

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Irene Byrne playing varsity lacrosse

Hey everyone! My name is Irene and I graduated from Byram Hills High School this past June. My sophomore year, just as everything was going right, Covid hit. As an extroverted and awkward 15 year old girl (I REALLY wanted to be a woman at that point) who was finally coming out of her shell, this was the worst case scenario. How did I manage to turn my junior and senior year into the greatest years of my life so far? Here are some of my tips:

Get a job. 

Getting a job, for me, was a non negotiable from my parents. At the time I was resistant, but I learned three key lessons that improved my life as a student and a person. The first lesson: good customer service is critical. With the rise of self check-outs and automated messages, having good customer service (the ability to talk on the phone, send emails and conduct conversations) can really set you apart from your counterparts. I found my confidence in the classroom immensely improved as well. I could vouch for myself significantly more because of my work experience. The second lesson I learned was to find your strengths and use them. An individual’s strengths are what make you an asset, so if you want to become invaluable, you need to learn how to use them in life and in your career. I tried several different jobs. I learned that I was great at working with children and not so great at wrapping gifts. The final lesson I learned was you have to finish your jobs. This wasn’t school anymore. I couldn’t procrastinate on my responsibilities and somehow pull off an A. The faster I learned this the more efficient I became in school. I was handing in assignments earlier, and I became much more proactive when asking for help. 

Get involved

Okay, so I was the captain of three varsity sports my senior year. Naturally, I encourage athletic activity to everyone. Sports helped me learn to work with others, taught me how to play fair and fostered healthy habits in my lifestyle. I can’t even begin to describe the countless friendships I formed from playing on teams in school as well. Now, for my unathletic readers/friends you can still get involved through clubs or community service! I had a lot of fun in the band, and my friends in theater are always looking forward to the next show (I can proudly say I never missed a winter show). There is no downside to putting yourself out there. You might just discover what you’re truly capable of.

Take Risks

And lastly, coupled with putting yourself out there, is to take risks. This can include talking to someone new, raising your hand in the classroom or even sticking up for someone against a bully. If you make mistakes, who cares? That’s how you learn. The biggest risk I am taking is attending college in Ireland. I knew how much I would have regretted not applying, and if I crash and burn- so be it. Taking a risk to achieve a goal requires courage to face the fear of uncertainty. No matter the outcome, either way, I will grow through the process and become more resilient and confident.

 

Good luck in High School!! Don’t blink. 

 

The Perfect Game Changing & Memory Making Dip

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Byram Hills Varsity Field Hockey team in 2016 wearing pink socks for breast cancer awareness in October.

 

A simple five layer dip can have a quite powerful unifying effect, to many’s surprise. The Byram Hills High School Varsity Field Hockey team made this discovery all the way back in 2016, and it changed the game forever for them. 

I, myself, was a member of this team from 2016 to 2020: my freshman year of high school. Our team was composed of an unproportionally large group of freshmen talent, and by talent, I mean we were losing all of our games. The team had previously been a force to be reckoned with in the county, but after losing much of the team at graduation, they suffered with a lack of experienced players along with a new coach that 2016 fall. The group assembled was young, unorganized, and very timid – understandably. 

The captains had organized a team dinner to try and increase morale and create a more tight-knit, cohesive team. My mom, Palma Manners, volunteered to make dip for the dinner; little did she know the impact this dip would have on the coming season and the following years. The dip itself is simple (and definitely worth trying yourself): it is a beautifully constructed five layer stack of (from bottom to top) 1 (16 oz) can of refried beans, 1 (16 oz) container of sour cream seasoned with a ½ package of taco seasoning mix, about 10 ounces of guacamole, 2 cups of shredded cheddar cheese, and finally topped with 1 large tomato, chopped. 

“I only started making it your freshman year when you started doing team dinners,” she reflects. “I had offered to make it your very first team dinner, and it was such a hit that it was requested for every team dinner after. It became a bit of a tradition.”

A tradition indeed! It gave the team something to bond over, a sort of unifying ritual. Every week for the rest of the season, we would get together, over dip, and slowly form the close-knit team that we had wanted to be. We didn’t win many games still, we were still a young team with much to learn, but we started actually playing together, we found a rhythm. We even started writing “TOGETHER” on our legs in sharpie before every game as a reminder of this.

Every year for the next three years that I was playing and my mom was making dip, some players graduated and we gained new ones, but the tradition remained, and each year we would become a stronger team. The dip was such a simple tradition, but it became iconic for our group, and we still all reminisce about it today. I don’t remember any scores from that first year or the result of any of those games after, but I do remember the players, many of whom are still my best friends two years out of high school, and the memories we made over chips and dip every week.

 

You Are Not Cool.

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Photo courtesy of https://www.someecards.com/usercards/viewcard/MjAxMi05YWE4MjBkNzM5ZGYwYmZk/

 

When people think of social media, it is typically associated with teenagers and early adults being obsessed with likes and who can project their best lifestyle. Generation Z and millennials are usually linked with social media taking over their lives. The expression “phone eats first” and people, especially girls (I can confidently support this being a girl *wink* ), snapping a million pictures until getting the right one. However, I would like to argue that this logic is wrong. We are the scapegoat for the older generation to hide behind. We are not the true culprits of the epidemic of social media taking over. Adults, especially parents of teenagers, are the true OCD consumers of social media. 

The smallest family gathering happens and you already know all the mothers are going to line up and want to make a huge photoshoot to later post on Facebook, where their 76 friends will comment. Saying “So cute! My kids could never!”, “They grow up so fast!”, and on and on. Cut the BS. We both know you do not care that Sheryl went to Turks and Caicos for the fifth year in a row. And the same goes for Sheryl–stop acting like your kid did not just throw a fit because they missed their sleep away camp meet up in the city to go on this vacation. Social media portrays such a falsehood of what is reality. Simply commenting on someone’s post does not mean you are close with them. Send them a text or call to show you care. These moms are so obsessed with portraying a different (read: fake, or at best, idealized) perception of their family. I truly think that if these moms keep trying to portray their family dynamic like how it seems on social media, that maybe one day their manifestations will materialize. Get a reality check, but it has not been all smiles and a love fest at Thanksgiving with the in-laws. Maybe get some crystals and family therapy. Stop dragging everyone else into your family’s mess.

However, the moms of Facebook are not even the worst of them. The worst are the wannabe influencers. They just learned about Instagram a month ago and think making reels is revolutionary and they’ll become famous for showing their outfits every day in their story. It has been done. And yet, still few have actually become that famous. They think they are hip and cool being on Instagram, posting their lives, thinking that people are just WAITING at their phones for the next post. Like no, what do you think you are influencing? What does “influencers” even mean? What are you changing? The times people want to block you? Because that number is only going up. The only brands that reach out to you to promote are probably bots or a pyramid scheme. There is a reason no one has heard of these companies! Okay, maybe if Gucci or Versace is sponsoring you, then none of this applies to you. But to those of you out there not making this cut, fun fact but typically the number of likes usually lines up with the number of followers you have. We can tell, you buy your followers! Right, because you have 14.7k followers but on a good day get 53 likes, yes! Love the PEMDAS that is happening.

Social media does have its positives of allowing people to stay connected all throughout the world and depicting the time that has passed. But, people own up to the reality of your life and stop posting inspirational quotes that you do not even implement in your life. Time to make social media casual again.