Helping Youth Express Themselves Through the Arts

Gabrielle S. Cerminaro was a talented artist, a incredibly creative and giving spirit. As the website for the foundation that bears her name states, "Art was her second passion. Making a difference was her first." 

She came by these traits naturally: getting her beauty and artistic talent and compassion from her parents. I was lucky enough to work with Wendy and Sam many years ago, right around the time when Gabrielle was born. Probably even before. They were (and still are) generous and fun, business leaders who were supportive of students still finding their way, mentors enthusiastic about our lives, and so damn creative. They danced with The Husband and me at our wedding. They are - despite decades and distances later - people we are proud to call friends to this day.

When Gabrielle passed away in August 2011, my heart broke. For them as friends and parents, of course, but especially for the loss of a vibrant young woman and for those who would not get to know Gabrielle and her art.

I also knew that her family and friends would find a way to honor Gabrielle's memory while combining her twin passions of art and giving back.

When funding gets cut for the arts (as it often does in our schools, or our nonprofits, or in our communities), it reduces the promise of young people who have tremendous talent.Gabrielle's Arts Foundation is changing that; their mission is to help give youth opportunities to express themselves through the arts.

Since the Foundation has been established, the grants have already started to make a difference. Here's what it has accomplished in just the past year:

Gabrielle’s Arts Foundation has supported St. Augustine Academy for Girls in Norristown, PA by sending a number of girls to the Wayne Art Center for summer art camp. These girls have little hope in their lives and the camp helps to make a difference.

The Gabrielle Cerminaro Memorial Award
Each year through the Wayne Art Center there is an award given honoring Gabrielle. This award is given to a student during the juried student show. This award enables a student to continue their pursuit of the arts.

Wayne Art Center 
Through the Wayne Art Center, Gabrielle's Arts Foundation gave two scholarships for freshman students at Conestoga High School (CHS). These students were selected by the faculty of the art department at CHS keeping in mind the mission of GAF. Both students were "thrilled to be recipients and [have been] propelled into a life of art."

Tyler School of Art  
Joining forces with Tyler School of Art (TSA) and CHS, GAF was proud to sponsor a senior to experience TSA’s summer boot camp. CHS faculty selected this student, supporting the mission of GAF. Students immersed themselves for two weeks spending time creating images for their portfolio that will distinguish them as an exceptional artist. They learn what admissions counselors look for in a portfolio and how to present themselves! This program helps to encourage and support an 11th grade art student to pursue their dream of art school.

Just as Gabrielle did, by pursuing her passion for the arts.

Just as Gabrielle would have undoubtedly continued to do.

Gabrielle's birthday was yesterday, February 19. She would have turned 22. Instead of mourning her loss, her family is celebrating her life and legacy this weekend with a fundraiser this weekend for Gabrielle's Arts Foundation.

We are celebrating Gabrielle's 22nd Birthday

February 24 from 4-7 pm, upstairs at the Berwyn Tavern.

625 East Lancaster Avenue

Berwyn, PA 19312

Free appetizers, drink specials, and amazing giveways from local businesses.Bring whomever you would like! We will have a donation bucket - every dollar counts to help youth express themselves through the arts. 

Donations may be sent to:

Sovereign Bank
Attention: LuAnne Lunger
123 West Lancaster Avenue
Wayne, PA 19087
610-688-7330
Your donations to the foundation are tax-deductible.

For more information: 

Visit Gabrielle's Arts Foundation website here

Follow Gabrielle's Arts Foundation on Facebook here. 

"To Thine Own Self B Tru"

mural by Gabrielle S. Cerminaro 

In Which a Post Gets Picked Up By the Main Line Times

photo taken by me at Longwood Gardens, Chadds Ford, PA
January 24, 2010

During my days as a development and public relations director in the Philadelphia area, one of my favorite reporters was Caroline O'Halloran of the Main Line Times. So, when I saw an email from Caroline the other day, I was delighted. She was working on a story and wanted to know if she could use part of my recent blog post about Andy Reid's hire as head coach of the Kansas City Chiefs. ("Why Andy Reid is the Right Coach, Right Now for the Kansas City Chiefs").

I readily agreed, especially since another (not-in-Philadelphia) paper initially agreed to publish it ...and then they promptly chose not to because I didn't go as negative as they would have preferred in regard to some of the Reids' personal family situations. I didn't want to go there for the sake of a byline, so we moved on.

Caroline, on the other hand, is someone who also saw the side of Tammy Reid that I was fortunate to see during my days of working with her. You'll see that, too, in her excellent piece that I'm quoted in and that I link to below.

(Caroline also captures a key point that I was trying to make in my blog post: "In light of the recent murder-suicide of Chiefs’ linebacker Javon Belcher and his girlfriend, Kansas City seems a fortuitous destination for the Reids. Indeed, Tammy has already spoken to the wife of Chiefs’ owner Clark Hunt about getting involved in the team’s new domestic violence initiatives. “That’s right up my alley, I plan on jumping into this community too,” Tammy said.)

Read more:  Exclusive: Tammy Reid to keep Philadelphia ties after Eagles but eager to 'jump into' life in Kansas City

http://www.mainlinemedianews.com/articles/2013/01/12/main_line_times/news/doc50f04db767e10121666855.txt

Thanks, Caroline, for including me in this wonderful piece.

Why Andy Reid is the Right Coach, Right Now for the Kansas City Chiefs

Then-Philadelphia Eagles head coach Andy Reid
at a fundraising event I helped to organize
photo taken by me, April 2009

An Open Letter to the Fans of the Kansas City Chiefs:

Getting a new boss, as you just did with the hiring of Andy Reid as your head coach, is tough. 

There's a lot to get used to when the new person arrives in town. They have a different playbook, a unique style - sometimes their own people in mind for what was your job. 

I've been in your shoes. Believe me, I know that the very last thing you probably want to hear are accolades about the new guy. 

Granted, from a football perspective, Andy has a few faults. We've seen a few of them in Philadelphia. That tends to happen when a guy sticks around for 14 years. He's not perfect. 

But there's something about him that makes Andy the perfect leader for the Chiefs right now.

You see, you've had some tragedy recently. 

I speak, of course, about the domestic violence incident in December during which linebacker Jovan Belcher shot and killed his girlfriend Kasandra Perkins, then subsequently killed himself. This murder-suicide brought the NFL to a standstill ...but only for the requisite moment of silence. 

The NFL already outfits itself in every conceivable shade of pink each October for breast cancer, which is certainly commendable. However, I submit that most of us are already well aware of breast cancer and the NFL’s recognition of this month is sometimes akin to elaborate end zone gyrations.

Although nothing will ever change the loss of life, the hiring of Andy Reid as your head coach gives every one of you connected with the Kansas City Chiefs - the owners, the players, the grounds crew – an opportunity to be leaders the NFL truly needs on the issue of domestic violence. 

Why Andy Reid? 

I was fortunate to get to know Andy and his wife Tammy when I worked as a fundraising director for a domestic violence agency in suburban Philadelphia. They became tireless, dedicated, loyal supporters of our organization; the more the Reids learned what we did and about the impact and prevalence of domestic abuse, the more they became involved. 

During their 14 years in Philadelphia, Andy and his family worked so closely with our staff that I initially thought Tammy was on the payroll when I was first hired.

I know one of the criticisms of Andy during his Philly years was that he was disconnected from the fans. That always perplexed me because from where I stood, on the sidelines, I saw things differently.

I saw a Coach who readily hugged a woman whose husband once chained her to the bathroom sink for days, only to escape to safety in the morning rush of getting her kids to school. 

I saw a Coach who signed an autograph for a scared, star-struck child who had moved into a shelter a week before.

I saw a Coach who was routinely maligned by the ruthless Philly media, but who had no trouble grabbing a microphone when bidding was low during a silent auction and reminding the well-heeled crowd why we were at the Gala in the first place. 

I wish more Philadelphians had a chance to see this caring side of Andy.

Kansas City, I’m grateful that you now do. 

In Philadelphia, Andy always concluded his opening statement to the press on Mondays by inviting questions from the assembled media with a two-word phrase:

Time's yours. 

So, Chiefs, now the time’s yours to pick up the ball on the domestic violence issue. 

Run with it.

And be the real leaders on domestic violence that the NFL needs. 

In the Face of Inaction, Kristin's Call for Change

I have to wonder how many members of the House of Representatives ever downloaded a text message like this from their 21 year old daughter's phone, after she had been murdered (stabbed more than 50 times in her own kitchen) by her boyfriend.

I'm guessing not many.

If they had - in an odd, bizarre, twist of fate way - then Tuesday night might not have happened. Or, maybe it may have happened a bit differently.

That's when the House of Representatives, in the midst of the fiscal cliff craziness and blocking

federal aid to devastated Hurricane Sandy victims, made yet another unbelievable head-shaking move. (One that leads us a bit closer to living in A Handmaid's Tale land, but that's another post.)

By allowing the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) to die without a vote on Tuesday night, the House of Representatives basically told victims of domestic violence and their families that they don't matter.

I've written about Kristin Mitchell's story before - here, and here, and here. And I will continue to write about Kristin, because this story is so deeply personal to me for reasons only a handful of people know.

The reality is that domestic violence still carries a stigma and real people are still living in fear. Despite the statistics, we don't want to believe that people we know are being abused.

Your coworker in the next cubicle with a never-ending supply of Hershey Kisses.

Your best friend since kindergarten.

Your younger sister, who cheerfully wore the hideous maid of honor dress in your wedding.

Your neighbor up the street with the gorgeous lawn.

Your kids' bus driver who always waves as she drives away.

Your college roommate.

And when it comes to domestic violence on college campuses? In teen dating relationships?

We want to believe that everything is as picture perfect as it appears on prom night, that we're all slow-dancing happily ever after, and that domestic violence - and teen dating violence, in particular, doesn't exist.

It's not. Young women ages 16 to 24 experience the highest rate of violence at the hands of someone they know.

Think about that for a second.

Now, think about your representatives who decided on New Year's Day that this wasn't important enough to do anything about.

That THE VERY LIFE of your coworker, your best friend, your sibling, your cousin, your neighbor, your babysitter, your child was not important enough to vote on.

So where do we go from here?

Since their daughter Kristin's death in 2005, the Mitchells have been a family that have transformed their profound tragedy into incredible change. 

The Mitchells are doing something about dating violence. They're helping to lead the way when those in charge fail to do so.

Through the Kristin Mitchell Foundation, grant funding is available for projects that help to raise awareness among young adults and teens about Dating Violence Prevention.  Preference is given to projects designed to raise awareness among college-aged young adults.  However, proposals will also be considered for projects designed to reach high school students.

Funding requests for each project can be up to $3,000. Projects with a total budget of more than this range must show, in the application, where additional funding will be drawn from.

The projects should focus on one or more groups of young adults within the Greater Philadelphia area (Philadelphia and/or Montgomery, Delaware, Chester, Bucks counties), and/or the following areas in Maryland: Baltimore City, Baltimore County, Howard County, and Charles County. Consideration will also be given for projects in other counties in PA and MD, provided that funding from the Kristin Mitchell Foundation is available.

Proposals submitted for consideration in March must be received by February 15th. Proposals submitted for consideration in September must be received by August 15th.

Click here for more information, including the official KMF Grant Funding Application and additional details. 

As shown by the House of Representatives actions this week, our elected officials don't seem to want to be the leaders for the change we need. Now more than ever, it's up to us to be that change at the grassroots level, by initiating the projects that can help make a difference. 

For Thanksgiving: N.J. beach house, memories of dad survive storm

This morning, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette published one of my essays as part of its Page 2 feature on ... well, page 2. It's a personal piece about our simple family vacations at the Jersey shore and a special memory of our last trip "downashore" (as we Philly folks say) with my dad, who passed away suddenly at the age of 44. When I wrote this, I was feeling incredibly grateful that Hurricane Sandy spared my aunt and uncle's beach home, and I couldn't help thinking if there was a connection. 

I'd be delighted if you took a few moments to read it here: Storytelling: N.J. beach house, memories of dad survive storm. 

Below is the picture of the Strathmere street (before high tide) that my brother sent me in his first text message. The house is a block or so up the road. 

Wishing all of you and your loved ones a wonderful Thanksgiving, with many blessings always.

Martha, My Dear

Cabrini College, taken by me during Alumni Weekend ~ June 2010

There are, in this world, people who through their work become so connected and so synonymous with a place that after many years (decades even) it becomes impossible to think of one without the other.

We all know just such a person, though, don't we? If you're lucky, like me, maybe a few such gems have fallen like stars into your life.

Martha was one of those gems, one of those shining stars.

* * *
Back in the late '80s, our part-time jobs in the Office of Public Relations at our small Catholic college were to do whatever was needed. And whatever was needed included such glamorous tasks such as typing memos (on actual typewriters!) and stuffing envelopes until our fingers became serrated from paper cuts.

Sometimes we were sent over to Alumni Affairs to help them out if they were busy - which they also often were. This became more than a job, more than busywork, more than a much-needed paycheck for our ... ahem, only-the-good-die-young Catholic college weekend pleasures.

I had no way of knowing it at the time, but the people surrounding my 19-year-old self would become my future references and my touchstones who would keep me personally and professionally grounded.

Martha was all of those.

As the Director of Alumni Affairs of our small Catholic college for nearly 30 years, we kind of knew it was Martha's job to pay attention to us as students (and, later, of course, as alums) but we kind of forgot it was her job. She made it seem easy while making us feel special. Always with a warm smile and an abundance of time for the students, no matter how busy she was, Martha took a genuine interest in our classes and our love interests. She was as much immersed in our lives as if she was our roommate. For years afterward, whenever we met, she would share in our college memories as if she lived them alongside with us.

That's because she did.

Another thing that I had no way of knowing at the time:

I never expected to become a Director of Alumni Affairs of a small Catholic college, one that fiercely competed with my own alma mater, no less. Like many people of my generation who became fundraising professionals, I'm one of those who "fell into" the profession - as if it was something of an accident, as if the job is akin to quicksand, ready to devour you and sink your soul.

In my days as an alumni director, the mid-late '90s in development and fundraising found us all on the cusp of change. We tried making sense of it all. We needed a little help from our friends, as The Beatles famously said - but not just any friends. No. Friends who understood the intricacies and the demands zinging from many, and the long hours and the behind-the-scenes-but-always-on nature of the work. We needed friends who had the same issues, who invented and reinvented all the wheels and who knew the names of every one of the spokes. We needed help flossing through the murk and the ethics and assuaging our personal emotions and profound hurt amidst the hubris of others; we needed to see others who endured, who came out the other side tested, a bit battle-worn but stronger for the fight.

As the seasons shifted on our respective stately, mansioned, and rotunda'ed campuses, we became known as The Catholic 7, representing the alumni directors of seven small Catholic colleges in the Philadelphia suburbs. Ours was a sorority of sorts (with a guy or two thrown in) and our quarterly meetings ones where we gathered for sustenance of every kind - food, laughter, and the comfort of knowing there were people to help us work through our unique professional challenges together.

The Grande Dames of the Catholic 7 were, we all knew, women who had held the role of alumni director at a small, Philadelphia area Catholic college each for decades.

Mag.

Grace.

Martha.

And then me, just a year or two into my job.

Collectively, they had lifetimes of experience on me, yet they welcomed me to the roundtable. My ideas were listened to and in turn, I soaked up their words of advice and wisdom as if it were the Holy Spirit speaking.

They mentored me, taught me all I know about donor relations and stewardship, but no one in the Catholic 7 did this moreso or better than Martha. Of all of them, it was Martha with whom I had the strongest connection, for this once-her-student worker-stuffing-envelopes-now-professional-colleague relationship was a unique concoction. One part bemusement, the other part pride, in that circle I was hers: a graduate of her college, a product of her office. All I wanted to do was to make her look good, to make her proud.

Martha died yesterday morning and I felt a part of myself crumble. I was sitting in a hospital as The Husband was undergoing surgery as the news streamed through my cell phone from college friends. I realized again how lucky I was to have known Martha in the different roles I've played - a student worker, an alumni volunteer, a professional peer and colleague. I thought of my days with the formidable women of The Catholic 7 and hoped that their institutions of Catholic higher education, like the one I'm a proud graduate of, realize just how many riches untold and uncounted are owed to their alumni director. They stand today on the seeds sown by these often unsung women.

As we mourn Martha and share our memories and heartbreak, we remember how special she made us feel. And we realize that in our sadness, she has stealthily done it once again. She has made it seem so easy. By connecting us in our grief, she has strengthened our everlasting and unchanging bonds to each other - for in the end, that's all any of us have - while bringing us right back to our roots and to where we spread our wings to fly.