So there I was sitting in my high school English
Class surrounded by my posse of girlfriends
(and one good boyfriend)
Mrs. Brown is reading off the names of the kids
who are being elevated into “Honors English”
for the coming Junior Year.
Sitting impatiently in my chair, waiting for my name
to be announced so everyone will know…
How smart I am.
I can’t wait to be leaving stupid English behind.
With all those lame students, boring writing assignments
and uninteresting novels for the idiot masses.
The excitement is racing through my veins.
Heart pounding with anticipation as one by one
My Girl Posse jumps up hearing their name called out.
Then rush of high fiving each other, heightened by the ego juice
of a 16 year old’s mind. Sound track of Queen blaring
in my head, We are the Champions.
And then the unthinkable happens…
Mrs. Brown, is silent. She has finished the Honors List.
Shocked and in disbelief…
Raising my hand, I yell out “Haven’t you forgotten someone?”
No, that’s the entire list, she curtly responds.
Then the roaring laughter from the entire mosh-pit of deplorables….
Bolting out of the room, retreating to Stall #3
Girl’s Bathroom 2nd floor tears running down my face,
I am totally humiliated.
WTF, never again! I recant my vows to my dream of being
a writer… a novelist… someone who inspires others.
The White Maya Angelou. All of it crushed in that instant.
So I turn my creative expression to painting going into the studio, alone.
Where no one can touch me, my own safe imaginative world.
I’ve decided, “I am gonna be a successful artist and have a
retrospective of my work at the Whitney Museum in New York F**kin’ City.
Upon graduating college, this little California Surfer Girl moves 3,000 miles to NYC (Gawd)… Instead of a fish to water… it feels more like Gidget Goes to Hell.
Don’t know a soul…Don’t have a job.
Frightened to leave my 1500 Sq. ft. loft in Tribeca, a month goes by
before I unlock the big metal door hearing it creak as it opens and venturing out,
facing The Beast, head on.
Three years later, it’s the awesome 80’s vibrant art scene. I am working as a magazine designer by day, painting by night (if I ever stay home) art openings, parties and discos.
It’s Epic. The Mud Club, CBGB’s, The Tunnel and Danceteria —
where Madonna first hit the club scene… Drinking, drugging and dancing all night.
Getting gallery attention and art shows in Soho. It’s all happening, so totally awesome.
The best city in the world, best friends in the world. The best everything!
My art career is about to explode. I am about to make it big…
Then the Aids epidemic hits…Decimating our creative community.
Dazed, scared and feeling so effin’ angry I join “The Healing Circle” where men
and women find comfort, support and love in a sea of hate and grief.
It’s the first time since High School, I feel in touch with what I care about.
We are empowering each other and using our voices to make a difference.
Be Seen and Be Heard.
We Act Up and We Act Out!
It’s exhilarating… Out of the Closets and into the Streets.
You have a Voice and You have a Powerful Story too.
You have life lessons to teach and a message to share with humanity.
Doesn’t it suck to be afraid to talk and share your work?
When you understand Storytelling and Your Message…
You understand marketing.
It’s the key to inspiring and enrolling people to work with You.
I believe the most valuable thing you can learn how to do in
Your business is develop your Rebel Voice…and develop your
To Be about something MORE than what you sell.
To Stand for another’s transformation and elevate them.
Creating a business like no one else’s. And to Stand Out from all the
marketing Crap of a million emails and a billion websites.
It starts with you giving yourself permission to express more
of who you are through your business. So the people you serve can
express more of who they are.
Being Real, Raw and Relevant.
So you can touch, move and inspire your people, your tribe, and your community.
This is the future of business… And the world is waiting for the Real Rebel
You to Show Up.
(So Shut Up and Write)
Be Unapologetically You