More show. Less say.

Oh yes, the day was gorgeous, the crowd was large. The feeling was great. It was. Zora and I have a story to tell, but wanted to share this slideshow first.

Que cute, eh?

May is Mental Health Month

Just in case you needed an ever-green opportunity to celebrate, learn about, or look into bringing Mental Health and Wellness into the forefront, it's been gorgeously captivated by May.

Click here to learn more: May is Mental Health Month

More soon,

D

Humbled, and gearing up.

So it's days before the walk-a-thon, and while 3 miles isn't a long walk (per'se), it is one of the first times I will have done so with such a purpose. I'm really looking forward to walking it with my daughter.

As for the amount raised I tried to move with a time-specified logic. 30 days, 300 dollars, 30 people. If each person had donated approximately ten bucks, we'd be there.

As for the outcome: we raised 15% more. Yep, more.

It's hard raising money, it's equally difficult to ask. The economy, though improving, isn't one where we are yet wasting, spending on silly things (like my boaboa tea fetish of years past), but people are, on average paring down. Trying to save. Working with less.

But that we were able to raise more, speaks to a lot of things, namely the desire by so many people in my circle to talk about things, particularly mental illness, without the restraint and sting of stigma... is such a powerful and gorgeous, and awe-inspiring thing.

So again, to folks reading this who contributed (and if you are reading this, then you ARE contributing) thank you.

NOW, lets see if baby-big-girl-walking-partner will aquiese to riding in the stroller and not in my arms.

Not for the whole walk, anyway.

It's showtime!

Upcoming NAMI Convention in DC

NAMI will be hosting it's 4th Convention in DC at the end of June this year, peep the link to follow to learn more or register.

Particularly interesting (me-thinks) is the documentary that will be unveiled at the convention: Unlisted; A Story of Schizophrenia

I'm walking the walk (gulp) and asking for donations (double gulp)

And there is the idea of publicly "out-ing myself"...

Yep, I went and registered to walk the NAMI Walk Mind for America 2010 fund-raiser.

I've walked before, singularly. Technically, yeah: I do it all the time, one foot in front of the other, without incident... but there is something that increases my breath, blood pressure, and sweat density that has nothing at all to do with actually lacing up my sneakers. Something about asking for money, even/especially for worthy causes that put's you on the fast track to humility. Or something else. But I don't have language for that just yet.

So, moving past the strange fear of "the ask" I'm there. I'm in. And, now that I think of it; perhaps you'll be too. What are YOU doing Saturday May 15th? If you can't walk, consider donating.

But if you can do one or the other (or both) but need a little nudge, here's one to put you over the top: Zora's coming.

Oooooh weee.

April is National Minority Health Month

Or alternately speaking, it's Health Equity Month, which sounds better (at least to me, being labeled "Minority" has this whole 3/5ths of a person ring to it, that I don't particularly relate to. Not so much.

But again, it's a federal month dedicated to inspiring positive health outcomes, behaviors, and access to people who have been historically left out of the picture, and to those new populations (or newly visible populations) who contribute to the greater landscape of diversity, parity, and unfortunately disparity.

I went to an awesome symposium at the Mass General Hospital Disparities Solution Center. The conversation was led by two out MDs; Graham McMahon M.D. M.M.Sc., and Jennifer Potter, MD. Both leaders in their field, and both very active in their respective communities; and I'm guessing what I mean by that is: they are gay, and it's not a hidden type of thing. It needn't be.

I'm no close-eyed kid: I grew up in the South End of Boston, when it was very much in transition from being Latino, then African-American, later people started to move in from Chinatown. At each point, we were the minority, due to my mother's habits; the results of her Schizophrenia. We shared a racial and socioeconomic reality to the others in our area, but we were isolated in some other, glaringly different realities as well.

Years passed as they do: both repetitive and dynamic. The old neighborhood went through it's evolution in two well-defined phases: pre and post gentrification. At it's lowest when the combat zone wasn't a flurry of posh restaurants and overspill of Tufts Medical Center and my beloved Tufts Medical School, it very much wasn't a place for anyone.

That's precisely when the neighborhood had an uptick of the gay population. Now, when I say that, or write it, I pause. Am I saying it right? Do I sound offensive? Is this capturing what I'm really trying to communicate? And I think, on some levels, it's that measured tone, that strange dance of distance and respect, that difference that can and does get in the way of transparency, care, and truth. It can. But, just like in real life, some folks dance better than others. I like to think my jig is cute.

I at least try.

And, its also the truth, the neighborhood changed a lot. People moved in. Others shipped out, voluntarily and ehh, not so much. Some stayed and contributed to a more thriving environment. I titter when I think of people being nervous now, in the neighborhood. I hold back tears when I recall how the victory gardens were places of gay-hate crimes, some I witnessed as a 12 year old kid, simply sitting on my stoop at the base of a (very) public block.

But my point, ultimately is, how we define minority, diversity, equity, parity, really is all up for interpretation (and action-oriented discussion). We can be talking about color, accent, class when we say any of those key-words mentioned above. Or not. Perhaps we're really getting at ideas of ability, inability, who you love currently, who you've loved in the past, who you make love to when no one is watching. Or, what your habits are.

This month however, (and especially if you're in the business of health) make an effort to spread a healthful message to someone who may need it. And as much as you may be itching to say it: sorry. The idea of: enforcing sex-partner reduction, balking at cultural healing practices and prayer, not using a medical interpeter/translator, or other culturally inappropriate practice, with nearly any community, is dead, paternal, and judgemental. Create a message that people can stick to, without demonizing 'em. Engage respectfully. Recall humanity, humanely.

That and (please) don't talk to me about my eating habits. I'm still working on just saying "NO!" to cookies.

(kinda)

Interesting (and clearly timely) editorial on Mental Health, Coverage and Health Care Reform

Check it out: here.