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AWARENOW

THE WORLD'S OFFICIAL MAGAZINE FOR CAUSES

‘MARKED TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE’

PAIGE BILLIOT

THE MARKED EDITION

STAKING AND MAKING YOUR MARK

THE MARKED EDITION

ON THE COVER: PAIGE BiLLIOT STRONG

AwareNow Magazine is a monthly publication produced by AwareNow Media™, a storytelling platform dedicated to creating and sustaining positive social change with content that inspires and informs, while raising awareness for causes one story at a time.

WASIM

DR.

GABY MONTIEL

MARKED

PAIGE BILLIOT

PAUL

REGGIE HUBBARD

MAXWELL

To be marked is to be known—for what you believe, what you create, and what you change. In the context of AwareNow, to be marked is to be moved by purpose and driven to make an impact. It’s the scar of survival, the symbol of strength, and the signature of someone who refuses to stay silent.

We live in a time where silence is no longer an option, and waiting for permission is a relic of the past. We will no longer ask for permission to change the world. In this edition of AwareNow, we celebrate those who are not just speaking out—but standing up, stepping forward, and staking their claim for change.

This is The Marked Edition—a tribute to those making a mark with their voice, their vision, and their purpose. Whether it’s through advocacy, art, activism, or action, each person featured in these pages is proof that impact doesn’t wait for approval. It only asks for intention.

marked: (v.) to be made visible through action, intention, or identity; to stand out not by chance, but by choice

On our cover, Paige Lauren Billiot bears her birthmark with boldness and beauty, redeﬁning what it means to be visible and valued. Inside, you’ll hear from a powerful collective of changemakers—artists, advocates, educators, activists, and storytellers— each making their mark on the world in their own way. From political peacebuilders and climate advocates to ﬁlmmakers, disability champions, innovators, and inclusion warriors, these voices serve as proof that the marks we make can shape movements, shift culture, and stand the test of time.

This issue is more than stories. It’s a movement in print, inviting you to leave your own mark—not just on the page, but on the world. Let this be the moment you start.

AwareNow, more than ever. Always aware. Always free.

ALLIÉ McGUIRE

CEO & Co-Founder of AwareNow Media

Allié McGuire began her career as a performance poet, transitioned into digital storytelling as a wine personality, and later produced the Hollywood Film Festival. Now, as co-founder of AwareNow Media, she uses her platform to elevate voices and champion causes, connecting audiences to stories that inspire change.

JACK McGUIRE

President & Co-Founder of AwareNow Media

Jack McGuire’s career spans the Navy, hospitality, and producing the Hollywood Film Festival. Now, he co-leads AwareNow Media with Allié, focusing on powerful storytelling for worthy causes. His commitment to service fuels AwareNow’s mission to connect and inspire audiences.

The views and opinions expressed in AwareNow are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official

Any content provided by our columnists or interviewees is of their opinion and not intended to malign any religion, ethnic group, political group, organization, company, or individual. Stories shared are not intended to vilify anyone or anything. Their intent is to make you think.

* Please note that you may find a spelling or punctuation error here or there, as our Editor-In-Chief has MS and lost vision in her right eye. That said, she still has perfect vision in her left and rocks it as best as she can.

It doesn’t make sense to be separated. And it deﬁnitely doesn’t make sense to take away people’s rights—or to separate families.

WASIM ARSLAN SYRIAN SINGER & SONGWRITER

EXCLUSIVE COLUMN BY CELESTINE RAVEN

STRONG WOMEN BEAUTIFUL MEN A CONVERSATION WITH WASIM ARSLAN

In Strong Women and Beautiful Men, Celestine Raven is traveling around the world to meet colorful people, in order to create a sense of a global village. In this episode, Celestine stayed in her hometown of Amsterdam and met the Dutch’s most famous Syrian Singer Wasim Arslan. In 2016, Wasim ﬂed from Aleppo to Amsterdam. With the ending of Assad’s regime in Syria last december, he could ﬁnally go back and touch the soil of Aleppo.

CELESTINE: When you say “sweet missing,” what do you mean?

WASIM: You know, we call it in Arabic hanin, which means nostalgia. It’s that feeling of “I miss this”—but it’s a warm feeling. But then I wake up… and I wake up in the diaspora, you know? That’s what I said in the song: I wake up in the night alone… It means the reality is harsh. It’s different from what we wish and what we dream.

Because we wish to be in the place where we feel at home, where we belong. It doesn’t make sense to be separated. And it deﬁnitely doesn’t make sense to take away people’s rights—or to separate families.

SYRIAN SINGER & SONGWRITER

WASIM ARSLAN

CELESTINE: But there’s also the right not to be at home. The right to have to live.

WASIM: Exactly. Separating families is a big thing. It’s so painful. Over the years, I’ve learned just how painful separation is.

CELESTINE: And then you went back.

WASIM: I went back because…

CELESTINE: Fortunately, in December, things changed for the better.

WASIM: Things changed—big time. Big time.

CELESTINE: And you could go back.

WASIM: Yeah. After believing it was impossible for so many years, I had always believed I couldn’t go back. I focused only on moving forward—not looking back—because looking back was painful. Looking back didn’t make sense. So I moved on. I ran away as far as I could, because there was no way back. Mentally, I had prepared myself for that. And then, suddenly, I could go back. My mind couldn’t process it. I could hold my phone, book a ticket, and take my body there—but I couldn’t believe it myself.

CELESTINE: You showed me some images. It was so beautiful to see you arrive, covered in cloth—and then, suddenly, surprise!

WASIM: It was insane. Just insane. It felt like a dream becoming reality—but one you’re so aware of while it’s happening. It was incredibly powerful.

CELESTINE: You see all those faces… you’re hidden underneath, and then the cover comes off. They see you. You see them. Had they changed? What was it like?

WASIM: Of course, people changed. But it was still the same family I left 13 years ago. The same family I was returning to.

CELESTINE: All of them?

WASIM: All my family—my aunts, uncles, cousins, mother, father, sister—and all their kids. No one knew I was coming. No one. Just two or three of my cousins who helped organize it. No one knew. And then—bam!—there I was. This had always been a dream for me.

Here in the Netherlands, I’d dream of just appearing among them, even if they couldn’t see me—just to feel their warmth, to smell them, to share a cup of coffee… and then disappear again. Just imagining it gave me peace. So when I was under the blanket—that was exactly what I wanted. To be there, without them knowing. And then— suddenly—“Hello, I’m here.” It was amazing. A miracle. Even when I crossed the border between Lebanon and Syria, I couldn’t believe it.

CELESTINE: After 13 years…

WASIM: Yes. Because in October—I went in December—on October 29th, just two months earlier, I was at the Turkish-Syrian border saying goodbye to my parents. I thought it was the ﬁnal goodbye.

WASIM ARSLAN

SYRIAN SINGER & SONGWRITER

“…I said goodbye at the border, knowing I couldn’t cross. It was home. It was family.

But I couldn’t go with them.”

WASIM: (continued) My parents were living in Istanbul. I had brought them there, because they couldn’t live alone anymore. They were older. My dad’s health was very bad.

CELESTINE: You stayed in contact with them while they were in Istanbul?

WASIM: Deﬁnitely. But I said goodbye at the border, knowing I couldn’t cross. It was home. It was family. But I couldn’t go with them. And they couldn’t come back. If they entered Syria, they couldn’t leave again—because of politics, because of the rules.

That day, I released a song called “I Will Return.” And two months later, the regime fell. Then I released another song: “My Homeland Is Calling.” Everything happening—it felt like a miracle. We were living it.

So when I stepped into Syria, I just looked at the ground… “Am I really here? Is this real?” That feeling stayed with me for eight or nine days. “Am I really here? Am I really hearing all these Syrian voices?” Everyone speaking in the Syrian dialect—it was beautiful. It felt amazing. And I remembered so clearly—my memory of Aleppo felt engraved in stone. The moment I saw a street, I remembered exactly where it went and which stores were there. The entire city just downloaded in my mind. Of course, some places were completely damaged. Others, partially. But Aleppo is still Aleppo. And it will be rebuilt again. It’s a beautiful place.

CELESTINE: Did you notice changes in your family? In people’s mentality?

WASIM: People have been through so much. You can see it—they’re tired. They’re done. Their hearts are closed just to survive, because if you’re vulnerable in times of war… you suffer. ∎

Find & follow Wasim on Instagram: @wasimarslan

CELESTINE RAVEN

Interviewer & TV Host www.awarenessties.us/celestine-raven

Celestine Raven is an accomplished interviewer and talk show host for Amsterdam Television in the Netherlands. With a rich academic background in political science from Amsterdam and France, Celestine has built a diverse career as a reporter, director, and journalist for Dutch television. Her passion for storytelling extends beyond journalism; she has also worked as a therapist, trainer, and coach in personal development. Celestine's dedication to empowering individuals and communities has taken her to various third- world countries, where she has spearheaded projects aimed at fostering awareness and inner strength. As the host of "Strong Women Beautiful Men," Celestine brings her unique blend of professional experience and heartfelt connection to create compelling conversations that unite and inspire. www.IamAwareNow.com

MONTIEL SINGER, SONGWRITER & OFFICIAL AWARENOW AMBASSADOR

FOR MUSIC & ARTS

GABRIELLA

FEATURE STORY BY GABRIELLA MONTIEL

NO LYRICS NEEDED THE UNSPOKEN POWER OF PASSION PLAYED

IN STRING & SOUND

Ava Montesi, Caroline Dressler, Giulia Haible, Julia Homa, and Maggie MacPhail are ﬁve young women who make up the formidable Celtic band of Boston, Massachusetts, Scottish Fish. Now playing together for thirteen years, the members of Scottish Fish have grown up together, meeting when they were only eleven and seven, regarding the youngest member, Maggie. While some of them knew each other prior, the band truly came together for the ﬁrst time at Boston Harbor Scottish Fiddle School.

Throughout the music camp, they stuck together and learned to share their craft with each other until the culmination of the week, where they had the opportunity to perform. They recount that the culminating performance was a fun and encouraging display of talent from those at the camp, with some putting on skits and others showing off their skills in juggling. However, for the girls, they wanted to play together on stage, which would mark their first performance as a band. During the time they would have to sign up for this performance, they had been eating the candy Swedish Fish. As kids, they thought it would be funny if they would call themselves Scottish Fish because of the camp’s focus on the Scottish fiddle, the innocent joy of their first performance as children would mark the beginning of a flourishing journey in inspiration, passion, and success.

After the camp, the girls would ﬁnd comfort in each others’ company and continue to perform together when they had the chance. There was a sense of belonging already built between the members, a mutual appreciation and respect towards the music they were creating together. However, Ava recalls that a “huge reason [they] kept on playing was because [they] were inspired by a few women who played the ﬁddle who were from Boston.” Hanneke Cassel and Katie McNally were two of these individuals, captivating the young girls, holding their dreams within this band’s success and displaying a possibility to motivate the Scottish Fish members to continue their journey. It was not in the name of success entirely that the girls continued their careers. It was the raw exhibition of passion and the dedication to its pursuit from this older band that seemed to drive Scottish Fish forward. Simply, they were inspired.

Inspiration is a strange device to motivation. It sits in the core, next to passion, smoothing over the rough parts that lie in the space between determination and avail. However, my favorite aspect of inspiration is its ability to return. Early on, inspiration tends to steal, be it time, money, effort, emotion, tears, or laughter. Inspired people exist in a complex state of both yearning for a dream another has achieved and desiring to completely spin their idol’s dream on its head and create something brand new on its back. While this state is how artists are able to ﬁnd ingenuity in the modern graveyard of originality, it is also what tends to take the most from passionate people. Inspired individuals will give their hearts to their dream and weave seeds of hope into the elusive future they live through someone else; it is a neighborhood next door to jealousy, the fence between these two cutting off the animosity and replacing it with respect and appreciation. However, no matter what inspiration takes from someone, it always returns. It may not return what it took in its recognizable form, but it does so through the individuals who allow themselves to change. For Scottish Fish, they allowed themselves to undergo growth within their music and within each other, a piece of the binding force that kept them together through their continuous thirteen years as a band.

Now, Scottish Fish’s inspiration from their childhood band has returned their efforts in the form of two bright eyes staring up at the young women, blinking with awe. The child of one of Cassel now looks up to the young women and uses them as a source of inspiration herself. In fact, many children will come up to the band after they perform and comment on how they wish to pursue music in a similar way, throwing themselves into the dream that Scottish Fish once had to rely on.

The members are able to now watch as they fulfill the role of inspiration themselves, observing the light enter the eyes of those in the crowd never exposed to their type of music before. When asked what the goal of their musical journey was, they all agreed on the idea of sharing. They inspire because they are able to share their music and the joy they find from their genre. All of the band members are drawn to the unique blend of the Irish and Scottish style. Hearing this music makes them happy, and in another way, it is how they spread joy. While this type of music is well known to those who are exposed to it, the Scottish Fish members admit that it remains a pretty niche genre of music. They are thankful for the reach that they have extended in this genre throughout and outside of Boston. Personally, after watching and viewing their concert myself, I can attest to the power of live music in this genre specifically. Something like a story poured out of these young women’s hearts and bled onto the stage, filling the room with fragments of imagery. In my mind, I saw pictures of landscapes I had never been to and could feel the music so deeply in my bones. Since then, I have been unable to stop listening to their music when studying or when I need to find a grounding sense of peace.

This connection that Scottish Fish has with their audience seems to source from their recognition of how much music makes up their lives. They admit themselves that their music has played an important role in establishing their worldview. I only have that one performance as an audience member to assume, but I believe this worldview must be ﬁlled with those fragmented images I am able to see when I listen to them. I attempt to fathom how a lifetime of creating these images for other people might affect an individual’s sense of belonging in an otherwise duller world. For Scottish Fish, they claim that this passion has grounded them into the world more than anything else. It has centered them and made it so that there is always something to return to.

Unfortunately, not everyone is able to open themselves up to that feeling live music creates for an audience. A common criticism Scottish Fish receives is their refusal to add vocals into their songs. With their band centered on original and cover pieces that are far from needing lyrics to convey its message, they have simply responded with the fact that they are not singers. Some critics take this as a lack of something, an absence of an art rather than what it is. It is the way they honor the genre, the way they nurture the purpose of the music they ﬁnd so much joy in. They are not meant to sing through their voices, their voice lies in the strings of their instruments. These critics are blind to this, and unfortunately, this has made them blind to the lyricism that already exists in the pieces Scottish Fish perform.

Essentially, this band has created a sense of belonging centered in Boston. Not just within their community or performance areas, but also within the surrounding air. They have ﬁlled the skies with their music, adding to the tapestry of art that has been weaving for centuries. The new colors they have introduced to the humane piece in the sky is beautiful in my eyes, and I see how it is able to touch every individual in an audience. Scottish Fish has seen that inspiration returns, just as is intended. Not only does it return their dreams back to its members, but it has also returned joy and brilliancy to those fortunate enough to listen. ∎

GABRIELLA MONTIEL

Singer, Songwriter & Ofﬁcial AwareNow Ambassador for Music & Arts www.awarenowmedia.com/gaby-montiel

Gaby Montiel has been nationally recognized as a soulful singer songwriter. As a recording artist, Gaby performs throughout southern California and has been requested to write and record songs for social advocacy organizations like AwarenessTies and Fear of Return. In April 2023, she performed as the youngest female music artist for the national Chick Singer Night Showcase at the Ventura County chapter. She recently performed for 300 art and music high school students in the Oxnard School District for the Oxnard Performing Arts Center, leading a songwriting workshop for 89 music students. She was also selected as the youngest singer songwriter for the West Coast Songwriter Association's Winter Showcase in 2024 as well as the only youth to be selected amongst 20 globally for Successfully Magazine.

www.IamAwareNow.com

Find & follow Scottish Fish on Instagram: @scottishﬁshband

Photo Courtesy: Paige Billiot

MARKED TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE

VULNERABILITY, AND THE POWER OF REPRESENTATION

Some stories don’t whisper—they demand to be seen. In this unfiltered conversation, I sit down with Paige Billiot, a filmmaker, disruptor, and advocate who’s turned what others once called a flaw into a full-on force. This isn’t just a talk about beauty—it’s a reckoning with identity, power, and the courage it takes to be unapologetically visible.

ALLIÉ: When I was young, I never wanted to wear shorts. I have a dark birthmark on my right thigh. I was already “different” from my classmates—one of the only Black students in a nearly all-white community. I didn’t want to be more different. So, I hid it as much as I could.

I share that with you because… I see you. And not just because your birthmark is visible. I see the courage it takes to be seen as you are, and to invite others to do the same. So, let’s start here: When did you ﬁrst realize you were different? Not when someone told you—but when you felt it?

PAIGE: Well, ﬁrst, thank you so much. That was such a sweet intro. You're so sweet. I'm sure you'll invoice me later for that. But yes, it's always lovely to hear when someone else has a similar lived-in experience. It really is like your

Photo Courtesy: Paige Billiot

“I was reminded every single day that I was not the norm.”

PAIGE: (continued) usually call it. At the end of the day, it's your superpower. But yeah, you have those lived-in experiences, and that's your community. So I love to have to share the community with you.

So yeah, I realized I was different pretty young, and it was really from the responses from other people. It wasn't really people telling me that I was different—it was the constant stares and the uncomfortability that I felt from others, just from existing or walking into a room before I even said anything, before I did anything. So I think I knew pretty early on, and it surprisingly came a lot more from adults than it did from children. I mean, walking out every single day, going to the grocery store—whatever it is, you name it—I was reminded every single day that I was not the norm.

ALLIÉ: Right. And it's wild, to your point, how young we get it and how that hits us—and how what’s just us becomes something to fear or to fix when the world starts handing out these labels, or to what you said, the sideways glances or the stare. You’ve said before that makeup used to be your armor, but now it's your art—your self-portraits, the Flawless Effect project. All of it is alchemy, it seems. The fact that you've turned what was once used to cover you into something that amplifies you. So my next question is: was there a specific moment or memory that flipped the switch —that took you from hiding to highlighting?

PAIGE: It was such a gradual process. It was through a lot of childhood, accepting in different layers—not really exploring the embracing yet. The acceptance phase was quite the trek. It wasn’t until I had already graduated high school and moved out to L.A. a handful of years later, with the intention of always being in front of the camera—and also behind it. I always wanted to be a creator, but to create a representation and awareness that I never had and always wanted to see.

At the time, I had already accepted my birthmark. I really did appreciate being different. But the thought of even highlighting it still wasn’t even in my ether. I still think about that—like, how ridiculous is that? How crazy is it that that thought wasn’t even a thing anywhere near my reality at the time?

So when I was in L.A., I was really active and trying to be in front of the camera as much as I could. I was still kind of covering up my birthmark with a little powder here or there. My headshots covered up my birthmark. But then I started coming to audition rooms without covering it. That kind of caused a little more confusion, understandably. But it was just a lot of rejection—which we're very used to—but I had a lot of energy. I had a lot of suppressed energy that I felt like I wasn’t able to get out creatively. And it was because these people were telling me no. So it became very clear, very quickly: I was like, okay, I’m going to have to make my own stuff. It was through a lot of anger and suppressed energy. I remember—it was the summer of 2015. I was in my Hollywood apartment, and I was just like, Man, what can I do? I wanted to show this representation. I wanted to get creative with my experience. I couldn’t make a ﬁlm overnight… but I could take a photo.

So that’s when I started Instagram. That was the first moment—through so much frustration—it was kind of like this very rebel moment. Like, Just do something. We gotta do something. And yeah, that was the first time I took a photo where my birthmark was the theme and the highlight. I was really calling it out—but in a really positive way. Like, “Yeah, look at me,” but from a different perspective. Let’s start to look at the flaws in a different way. And I just started to create photo shoots. They were very themed. They were a lot more complex. At the time, I had some friends who would help me out—they weren’t very consistent—but that was the start of it. Before that, it was never in my world whatsoever. It wasn’t even a suggestion anyone had ever given me my entire life. So it literally was not in my world… until I just had to do something.

Photo Courtesy: Paige Billiot

PAIGE BILLIOT BIRTHMARK ADVOCATE, MODEL, ACTRESS & PRODUCER

Photo Courtesy: Paige Billiot

“It’s been really, really beautiful to see the mechanics—how people’s minds work, how they approach things, and how, honestly, a lot of it is still extremely outdated.”

ALLIÉ: I think it's fascinating that this was all birthed from the outlet you found—as you mentioned, through Instagram. To ﬁnally have a place to push all that energy and all of that emotion… that's really awesome.

PAIGE: Yeah, trying to take the anger from mugshot to something really positive.

ALLIÉ: The way you show up, Paige, is not just beautiful—it’s brave, and it’s disruptive in the best, most amazing way. Because you're not asking for acceptance. You're asking people to reconsider this whole idea—this damn framework—of what they think beauty is. And speaking of framework, let's talk Hollywood. You’ve done the work both in front of and behind the camera. So what was that experience like—being in the industry, being right there in the lion’s den of Hollywood? What was it like?

PAIGE: Most of my work was behind the camera. The little bit I've done in front of the camera has been on projects where I was actually working as a coordinator, or a UPM, or a line producer—actually producing it. It’s much easier for me to get work when I don’t have to go through a casting director—if it’s a director who knows me and says, “Hey, let’s do something,” or “We’ve got a one-liner, let’s throw her in”—that kind of thing. Some friends’ short ﬁlms and whatnot. But yeah, I’ve at least always been actively trying to be in front of the camera, and I’m very consistently grateful for the amount of work I’ve done behind the scenes. It’s been really, really beautiful to see the mechanics— how people’s minds work, how they approach things, and how, honestly, a lot of it is still extremely outdated.

There’s more space for these types of conversations now—about DEI and diversity—more expansive than just trying to get more women or people of color into roles. We’re talking about actual disability, visible differences. People are more open to the conversation—but the action still isn’t quite there. And I think some people are already kind of annoyed when someone brings it up again, because there’s still so much of a ﬁght to be had. I mean, I’m part of the SAG Disability Committee, and even they don’t get a lot of support from SAG itself. This is their own disability committee, and they do not receive the support or the funding they need to do their jobs. They’re limited. We’re still very, very limited. We still have to prove that we’re not a risk assessment.

As we keep seeing remake after remake, non-original film after non-original film—they're very risk-assessed. They're very fear-based about anything they can’t quantify. Like, “Well, where’s the guarantee of all the profit coming back?” Yes, there’s still a lot of ego. There are a lot of outdated narratives and myths that need to be debunked—but it has to be proven. And it can’t be by asking their permission or waiting for their money, their time, or their contacts to make it happen. Most of the time, they’re not going to be active in that space unless they have a lived-in experience, or someone close to them does—their daughter, a friend—someone where it’s actually personal.

So we’re at a point now where there are people who really want to see this kind of representation in media. They want to see very diverse roles that reﬂect the world we actually live in—a world that is that diverse. But yeah, I think for studios and casting directors, it’s going to take seeing proﬁt before they’ll even consider getting on that bandwagon. Because at the end of the day, if they don’t have a lived-in experience… they’re just about business.

Photo Courtesy: Paige Billiot

“Change the narrative. Make them feel empowered to see something different. But at a certain point, we should be able to play the romantic lead…”

ALLIÉ: I hear you. So they need to see the proﬁt—and what you just mentioned a moment ago, they're just not close enough to it. I think it’s very proximity-based. If you have someone—a family member, a sister, someone you know— then you know that reality. But if you don’t, you’re so far removed from it, it’s hard to relate, to accept. So that’s got to be so frustrating. That said, in the frustration and craziness of it all, have there been moments where you felt like you were quietly—or loudly—changing the narrative? Have you seen those sparks personally?

PAIGE: I don’t know if I can give you any data for myself personally, because most of my energy and movement so far has been very social media-based. But the next phase—literally this year and next—we’re developing some scripts and working more into TV and media, so I’ll be able to report back next year on that.

But through some friends, though—like Adam Pearson—I’m great friends with Adam. He was in A Different Man with Sebastian Stan and Under the Skin. So he’s been making waves—a lot. This guy is a rock star. He’s an absolute legend. NF1 is his condition, and I’m going to butcher the actual medical term, so I’ll skip that. Yeah, he’s making huge waves right now. He’s breaking barriers like crazy. He’s really showing beauty standards in Hollywood—how expansive they can be, and how successful that can be, too. I was talking to his agents, and even with the success that he has—I mean, he just got the Gotham Award, was at the Independent Spirit Awards, and we just awarded him the Courage Award at the MyFace Gala—this guy’s killing it.

And still, the first challenge for his agents is figuring out: How do we get these types of diverse roles into these rooms first? Even with him kind of having a name now, their challenge is trying to convince mainly casting directors that we don’t have to have roles written about us all the time. We don’t always have to play the role where our difference is called out. His handful of roles—he did that, and it was great. I think, especially when you’re introducing something new, yes—call it out a little. Educate people. Let them know what they’re watching. Change the narrative. Make them feel empowered to see something different. But at a certain point, we should be able to play the romantic lead, the best friend, the villain too—where we can actually reclaim that power of being the villain with a visible difference. And they can’t comprehend that. It’s a struggle. It’s an absolute struggle.

So we’re just on this train of: We’re writing our own stuff. We’re getting people to fund our stuff regardless. If it’s a studio, great. But that’s not what we’re aiming for—because the amount of energy and time I’d have to spend trying to convince them why this story is important, why it’s important now, and why it will still do well… We’ve got people who are already supportive. We can make it happen.

ALLIÉ: Yeah, because that’s the thing—at the end of the day, you don’t want to have to force it. You want to allow it. You want it to be welcomed—not forced—or else it’s bad taste. It’s so true. And it’s not just about being visible. It’s about shifting the lens—literally and ﬁguratively.

Photo Courtesy: Paige Billiot

Start

Photo Courtesy: Paige Billiot

“Even if you don’t fully believe it yet, if you start looking at your difference as a superpower and start borrowing those qualities from the version of you that you know you are—or can be—you will become that.”

ALLIÉ: (continued) I have to tell you—one of our sons—we’ve got six kids, so our hands are full—has a birthmark on his face as well. A dark brown one, right here on his chin. He can’t hide it. There’s no way he could hide it like I did— under a pant leg or tucked under a sleeve. So I guess my question is speciﬁc for him—but also for everyone who has a facial difference that they have to face, because there is no hiding it: What’s the advice you wish you would’ve been given when you were coming to terms with it and ﬁguring out how to navigate?

PAIGE: I think the quickest thing is to play the psyche with your mind—to take advantage of that. There’s this term called the Batman Method—or Batman Effect—which I really, really love. It’s something I was doing when I was really young, and I didn’t even realize it. It’s kind of like fake it till you make it. I faked conﬁdence—a lot. I faked certain qualities—but it felt like survival. It was something I needed to do just to survive that day… to survive walking into that room, into that space. But eventually, when you practice those qualities over and over and over again—you really do start to adapt to them. The Batman Effect essentially means becoming a different character. But for me, it’s a little deeper than that. It’s about becoming a version of yourself that you know you have the full potential to be—and borrowing qualities from that version.

So, I was borrowing the conﬁdence. Borrowing the voice. Claiming the room. Getting comfortable learning other people’s uncomfortability instead of carrying the emotional weight myself. That was such a heavy experience for me. And I realized—okay, people’s reactions, boys’ reactions, whatever—it’s always going to be a thing. I can’t control how they respond. So how can I shift my experience just a little? And over time, pretending to be that version of me—that character—I really did start to become her. And what that eventually turned into—especially with the highlighting—was that I ﬁnally saw my difference as a superpower. Because I thought I needed permission to do that.

My advice is this. Start looking at your difference as a superpower. Ask yourself: What’s the advantage I can ﬁnd in this? It’s always going to seem greener on the other side. But how does your difference make you more? Why is that better? How can you take advantage of that?

There’s so much power in standing out. It’s a beautiful experience—a beautiful level of self-worth. Even if you don’t fully believe it yet, if you start looking at your difference as a superpower and start borrowing those qualities from the version of you that you know you are—or can be—you will become that. And it’s just gonna make life easy, breezy, beautiful… CoverGirl. Considering all things.

ALLIÉ: That is so powerful. That’s something I will carry with me on a few different levels, and I will be sure to share it with him. Before we wrap things up here, I did want to ask you about legacy. What do you want to be remembered for, Paige? And I’m not talking just as a creative or an advocate—but as a human being in this world, doing your work, telling your truth. Paige, how do you want people to remember you?

PAIGE: I don’t know if this would ever be a thing that gets written in history books, but I love the idea of a future where things like this just aren’t a conversation anymore—where the ﬁght and challenge for equality, for diversity, for us being seen as equals, for us being seen through a different lens—that isn’t a ﬁght anymore. It’s not a challenge. It’s not a cry. We can be talking about completely different things.

Photo Courtesy: Paige Billiot

MARKED TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE

Exclusive Interview with Paige Billiot https://awarenow.us/podcast/marked-to-make-a-difference

PAIGE: (continued) So I don’t know if “Paige Billiot helped us completely change” would ever be said—but that would be cool. But I think what would mean the absolute most... I mean, sure—if we had some successful movies that really shaped people’s view of differences as superpowers for the ﬁrst time—amazing. You know, we’re working on a birthmark Barbie. If that becomes part of the diversity line—amazing.

But I think what hits home most for me… I’m more of a secret legacy person. I think I’m more into that—where it’s families and generations talking, telling stories like, “Yeah, your grandmother had a birthmark, and she met this woman named Paige, and she transformed the way she saw herself. They got to do this campaign together, and she was part of this photo shoot that went viral—highlighting her birthmark. ”You know, something like that.

I want to kind of be told in some family stories. I’m totally ﬁne with that—nothing big—but to be talked about around some family dinners… that would be cool.

ALLIÉ: Well, you know what? You’re certainly going to be talked about in a family dinner or two in this house. I’ll tell you that. I love that you say—to just be mentioned in a story or two—because it is those intimate connections and conversations that matter. And perhaps we won’t change the whole world… but we can change someone’s world. And that should be enough at the end of the day.

PAIGE: Totally. Even if it’s just—“Yeah, oh, the girl I saw at the grocery store… her birthmark was all highlighted. I didn’t know who she was, but I remember that experience.” I’d love to be remembered like that—just as the girl with the glitter birthmark. ∎

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This is my life. This is my verse.

ALLIÉ MCGUIRE AWARENOW CO-FOUNDER, SPEAKER & AUTHOR

ORIGINAL POEM BY ALLIÉ MCGUIRE

MY VERSE

NO NEED TO REHEARSE

I wrote this poem in response to John Keating’s words so powerfully shared in my favorite movie of all time, Dead Poet’s Society. For me, this piece reﬂects my personal intersection of artistry and advocacy.

I don’t write just to sound sweet. I write with a heart that dares to beat. Not for praise, not to rehearse— But to claim my place. To craft my verse.

Not all lines are wrapped in bows. Some bleed truth the whole world knows. And though the polished often shine, The power’s in the unreﬁned.

Because I’ve stumbled. Because I’ve spun. Because I’ve broken— And still, I run.

Because the ﬁght is ﬁerce, not fair… But I still show up. I’m still there.

The world says hush. I say speak. To show how I’m strong, I show how I’m weak. For every soul who’s felt unheard, I write a line. I speak a word.

Because I can. Because I must. Because my voice Was born from dust. Because this breath, This space, this time— Was gifted to me To turn into rhyme.

The powerful play goes on, they say— And I won’t watch it drift away. I’ll take my part. I’ll stake my claim. Not just survive, but spark the ﬂame.

So here I stand. No need to rehearse. This is my life. This is my verse. I’ll write it loud. I’ll write it true. I’ll write it now… What will you do? AwareNow Podcast MY VERSE

Written and Narrated by Allié McGuire https://awarenow.us/podcast/my-verse

DAMIAN WASHINGTON ACTOR, VLOGGER & MS ADVOCATE

Photo Courtesy: Damian Washington

YOU GOOD FUNNY HOW MS REDEFINES STRENGTH

Damian Washington knows there’s nothing funny about multiple sclerosis — and that’s exactly why he brings the jokes. With a sharp mind, a quick wit, and a heart rooted in advocacy, he uses humor to disarm the fear and deliver the truth. Because when MS gets serious, Damian gets real — and in doing so, gives others the permission to be real too.

ALLIÉ: Thank you so much, Damian Washington, for joining me here on AWARENOW to share this space and to share your story. Thank you so much.

DAMIAN: I can't even speak because that’s an overwhelmingly joyous feeling—your perspective, your articulation of gratitude for me just showing up in the space that I am grateful you make—ooh, it gave me pause. I was just feeling that emotion. I usually know what to say all the time, every time, so when I don’t, that means I’m feeling. I just need a moment to collect something to say. So as I’m listening to your words... it was impactful. Thank you. Multiple sclerosis is a terrible way to meet wonderful people.

I was speaking with someone—a friend of a friend who’s newly diagnosed—just yesterday. There are one, two, three

WASHINGTON ACTOR, VLOGGER & MS ADVOCATE

DAMIAN

Photo Courtesy: Damian Washington

“All the people who were supposed to know... didn’t know.”

DAMIAN: (continued) purpose is. The meat grinder of a life that helps me give purpose to others—for others—for their own speciﬁc meat grinder... it's a wonderful feel.

ALLIÉ: It really is—when you can ﬁnd and step into that purpose. Let’s go back to the beginning, though, because what I have not heard from you about you—because all of us have one, right? We have a diagnosis story. Like, what’s the D-Day story? Anyone with MS has that day when they heard those words. Damian, can we start there? And then we’ll go on. But please share the details of that day.

DAMIAN: That’s a very good question. I’m just going through all the layers of the thing because it took me four doctors and some time to really sort this thing out.

My wife and I—been together for almost 25 years in a couple of weeks—somewhere along the way, she’s like, “Yo, something’s wrong with you, man. You don’t hold me the same way when we walk down the street. You’re off.” And that’s legit. She’s got insight. She’s been here. So she ain’t saying this lightly.

Then it’s concerning. Like, I’m tripping. I can’t really see things from afar—and I wear glasses, right? My nerd goggles are right here. I go to the optometrist to get a new prescription. I can’t specifically recall what was off with the exam, but I wasn’t seeing things properly. Yet my eyes were fine. And the optometrist was like, “Your eyes are fine. But you can’t see like you’re supposed to. A person with fine eyes should see better than this. You need to get an MRI.” And the MRI was like—this guy? Healthy this, healthy that, blah blah blah? Nah, bro, he totally has multiple sclerosis. He needs to go find a neurologist and get that sorted out.

And it took me a few tries to get my team going and ﬁgure it all out. Then, off into the sunset. But four different kinds of doctors, man. There was the foot doctor—for the stepping. My regular GP—for the fatigue. And they were all great doctors—shout out to them. Respect and peace and love and joy. But I went through, “Oh, something’s wrong with you? Go to that person.” “Oh, they don’t know? Go to the other person.” “Oh, they don’t know? Go to that person.” “Oh, they don’t know? Go to the other person, bro.”

All the people who were supposed to know... didn’t know. And then they put me in the machine that was like, “Yeah, something’s wrong with you. But we’re gonna ﬁgure it out.” And then they were like, “Yo, bro. Get a neurologist— because you got MS.”

ALLIÉ: But it started from your vision—and I hear you, because that’s where mine started as well. It was optic neuritis. I couldn’t see out of my right eye, but my eye was ﬁne.

DAMIAN: That’s the thing. You tell me my eyes are ﬁne, and I believe you. However, I cannot see.

ALLIÉ: So that’s where it began. I see you. I feel you.

When you get a diagnosis, there’s all kinds of medicine. But I want to talk right now about a particular kind of medicine. There are many medicines out there for MS, but laughter—most would agree—is medicine. And you, prescribe it on the daily. You dish it out and medicate us properly with laughter and with your channel. But I want to look behind the curtain here. Was there ever a moment, Damian, when humor felt a bit out of reach and you had to ﬁnd your way back to it? You seem to be such a master at using humor to navigate this space so brilliantly, but was there a time when you couldn’t ﬁnd it funny?

DAMIAN WASHINGTON

ACTOR, VLOGGER & MS ADVOCATE

Photo Courtesy: Damian Washington

“I don’t look for funny. Like, the true, real funny is already there, and I just sort of uncover it.”

DAMIAN: Do you know why there are no jokes about multiple sclerosis? Because that sh*t ain’t funny.

There are many times that I cannot ﬁnd many things funny—things that I know to be as close to me as my own veins, skin, and thoughts. I was already weird before I got to this diagnosis point. Like, in all the things that make me me— it’s there. Jokes are around because they’re funny, but I’m funny, period.

I know how to structure jokes and make them. And because I know scripts, I know how to get information out and be like, “Alright, this is too wordy here, structure that differently, also add some levity here…” But there’s no humor when you have no wind—and you started a 10-minute walk, maybe 15, and you wanted to walk for the full half hour… and now you should probably turn back around and go home and sit on your couch… That’s not funny, ma’am. That, in and of itself, is not funny. However, the things that may or may not happen to you around that… could be funny.

But I think humor just comes out because I’m funny. And the times I’m not—I’m not much of anything but a giant ball of “no go.” Like, you got a car full of gas, and it goes. This car? Don’t got no gas. No go. And plus—I cry a lot. Because I am an emotional person. And when I say things that are resonant and true, about something vulnerable that’s sort of always there…

ALLIÉ: Yeah. We’re so samezies. I cry a lot too. But I love how you just pointed out the fact that you know you’re just funny. So, MS is part of you… well, then there’s going to be something funny about all of you and all these different sides of you. It’s just an integrated part. That makes sense.

Let’s talk more about MS because—as you and I both know—it can crash the party at the worst possible time. I’d love for you to share a story, perhaps… Is there a story you have when the timing was so ridiculous that all you could do was just shake your head, like yeah, no funny here?

DAMIAN: Well, okay, so funny—speciﬁcally—I don’t look for funny. Like, the true, real funny is already there, and I just sort of uncover it. I’m really just trying to build the scenarios in my brain. Like, am I up telling jokes at a show? Am I walking to get some fruit from the store and something goes left, and then some jokey-joke like, Oh, okay. You know what I’m saying? But you see how my brain can’t even separate it? I can’t not be funny. And it’s strange for me to try to be funny—because when it’s necessary, I just go up, connect with somebody, and speak. And it will be funny.

ALLIÉ: Right. Because that’s your lane. I love that—for you, the funny isn’t something you force. It’s something you allow. It’s an authentic expression of you. And should you be someone who has MS, well then that’s the lens you’re going to be looking through, peering through. And I love how it’s all just integrated.

DAMIAN: It’s only funny because it’s true.

ALLIÉ: Funny because it’s true…. I gotta just sit with that for a minute. That’s a big thought.

DAMIAN WASHINGTON ACTOR, VLOGGER & MS ADVOCATE

Photo Courtesy: Damian Washington

“You can’t touch it, but you feel it. You can’t look at it, but you see it. That’s what the laughter is.”

DAMIAN: Yes it is. That’s what I’m saying… It’s only funny because it’s true. And that’s the nugget. That’s the heart. That’s the core of humor. That’s why laughter is healing—because it gives insight into a truth. You can’t touch it, but you feel it. You can’t look at it, but you see it. That’s what the laughter is. Only so many animals on Earth laugh—and we’re one of them. And that’s why there’s healing in it.

The things that I’m doing, bro? They ain’t funny. They ain’t funny at all. But because—like you say—that’s what I am, that’s what I do… and I’m just dealing with this thing. So this thing is also gonna have some shades of humor on it because it’s got this nerd on it.

ALLIÉ: Well, like you said—it’s there. It (the humor) is already there. You’re just the one presenting it. And you have that gift—to be able to unearth that side of it. What I love about what you do, and how you do it, is that it’s so relatable. The way you use humor to help people—as you would say—heal together. And part of the healing process isn’t necessarily a cure. It’s dealing with it. Dealing with the symptoms. Dealing with the life. Dealing with the no spoons. And if you can use humor to do that—then it truly is a medicine, I would say.

DAMIAN: That’s what I’m saying. I’m giving out prescriptions, baby. Make sure you like and subscribe. Come on, son.

ALLIÉ: So I want to talk more about this digital stage that you’ve built for the MS community—where people come for lifts and stay for truth. What keeps you coming back to the camera? What keeps you creating and doing this work? Because like you say, and like I know—with MS, spoons are important. (For those unfamiliar with ‘The Spoon Theory’, when I say ‘spoons’, I mean energy.) So, on the days when you’re completely out of spoons, what is it that keeps you wanting to do this?

DAMIAN: You… I am looking right in that camera.

ALLIÉ: I know.

DAMIAN: I know you know. I’m speaking more about it because—it’s what it is.

I don’t know you, Allié. I’ve never met you. I don’t know your story, which I’m sure is a story that I’d be like, mmhmm… and then what happened? But I just know that regardless of what I do, somebody is on the other side of that lens—or on that phone, on the scroll—somebody is there. And I am looking right at them. And I’m talking to them. Because I love them. And speciﬁcally in the patient space, your understanding of love evolves. When you have such a medical catalyst, your idea of love evolves. And what keeps me showing up… is you.

I don’t know who “you” is—but if this makes sense to you, if this applies to you, if this is something that makes you go, oh yeah, ha ha ha… that’s funny because it’s true—yeah. That’s what keeps me showing up. You.

ALLIÉ: Thank you.

DAMIAN: Thank you.

ALLIÉ: Don’t you make me cry. You’re making me have all the feels. I’m laughing. I’m crying.

DAMIAN: I’m crying right now. I have all of the feels.

ALLIÉ: Thank you for showing up like you do. It’s helpful.

So—you’ve worked with big names and big crowds. I want to look at the other side of that. What is one quiet message from someone in the MS community that has stuck with you?Because we all have these connections, right? And once you get into the MS club—it’s quite a club, quite a community. So what’s something quiet that someone has said… that’s stuck?

DAMIAN: IWhenever somebody says something legitimate, real, and true—that’s what gets me. Authenticity is the highest vibe there is. Love is the highest vibe—but authenticity is actually higher than that.

So, you see—I don’t really do much other than show up on time and be authentic. Just show up, be relaxed and able to be authentically me. Anyone who is being authentic and sharing a message—it hits home to whomever that message is meant to resonate with.

ALLIÉ: Yeah. Damian, I did have one more question that I wanted to put in front of you… If you could go back in time and share with your newly diagnosed self a single one-liner, what would it be?

DAMIAN: Yeah… “You good, fam.”

That is an acknowledgment of the weight of the diagnosis and all the parts therein—but also a nod to my resiliency and my way of being bigger than the challenges I’ve had… like, forever. Being able to come out on the other side of, Oh, you don’t have this—and how’s that gonna work out? And then, Oh… now there’s this—that also fulﬁlls all of that and even more.

So again, “You good.”

That hood sentiment—from Harlem and the Bronx—is a nice salve to be part of the healing… of whatever’s not good. And helping you rise to the vibration of, regardless of whatever it is, you good. Embody that. What does that mean? How does that feel?

And yeah, I’m not good. Oh no—you’re not great. So… where is good?

I know you’re not good because of this, and that—and you can’t see anything, and your balance is off, and when was the last time you pooped, and wait—I gotta pee, not now but right now—like, all of the things… You good. Even if not in this one right-now instant of a moment—overall, even if you have the same moment at another time—you will experience another vibration of it. And maybe that one will be a little less heavy than this currently is, right now.

You give grace to all of that. You honor all of that. And in that expression… you give space for that. You give room for that to expand… a home for your thought and heart to embody within.

ALLIÉ: You good… It’s wild how that big thought became a big thing in the form of “You good.” I kind of feel like that message should be my new ink. It would be a good reminder on my arm.

DAMIAN: Right? Because it’s so simple.

Exclusive Interview with Damian Washington https://awarenow.us/podcast/you-good

DAMIAN: (continued) It can resonate in so many different ways—because your ‘you good’ is not mine. But it’s the same notion. And because each and every one of us is different, what that means—and how we show up for that, on behalf of that—will be different. And that’s the best part of it all. Because again—it’s authenticity.

ALLIÉ: Well, and what you just said too… is grace. Right?

DAMIAN: Right. Grace to know that there’s work on the other side of this—and you can take care of that, too. You good handling that as well.

I believe in you. I love you.

I’m here with you. I believe in you. I love you.

That’s what that means to me.

ALLIÉ: Thank you so much, Damian—for sharing this space, for sharing these words, these stories. Thank you for helping all of us become a bit more aware now. Thank you so much.

DAMIAN: I appreciate you, Allié. Thank you for having me in this space.

You can always make money, but you can’t make time. The time that you spend with people is the most precious resource you have. Thank you for spending some time with me—and thinking that it would be valuable to the folks who spend time with you.

ALLIÉ: Incredibly valuable… Thank you so much. ∎

Find & Follow Damian on Instagram: @damianwashington Tune in and subscribe to Damian’s YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/@NoStressMS

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Every one is a part of everyone.

Miles to go before we sleep…

ELIZABETH BLAKE-THOMAS

FILM DIRECTOR, INTERNATIONAL KEYNOTE SPEAKER, & CREATIVITY COACH

Photo Courtesy: Elizabeth Blake-Thomas

PERSONAL

STORY BY ELIZABETH BLAKE-THOMAS

IN LOVING MEMORY OF CHAI

LOSING HER CHANGED EVERYTHING—INCLUDING ME

It’s day 11 and 6 hours and 32 minutes since I felt like my heart was ripped from my chest, stood on, stabbed and ripped apart some more. My best friend, my soulmate, my other daughter, my plus one, and my partner unexpectedly passed away. She died of a heart attack that no one saw coming.

What I’m about to tell you is either going to make you think I’m being over the top, misleading with my description, or connect to you in a deep way that not everyone else understands: This being had four legs and was called Chai. She was a Maltese. She had just turned 13, and I had her since she was 9 months old.

Be honest, how did you react?

I remember when I didn’t understand the connection between a pet and their owner. Even saying those words sounds non-personal and removed; “a pet”.

I have now joined this exclusive club “The Grief Club”. This is a membership that I didn’t want, or ask for. It wasn’t free, it has cost me more than I could ever imagine. It’s a club we all get to join at some time or another. It’s a club none of us want to actually be part of.

It’s irrelevant whether they have 2 or 4 legs, or maybe no legs or more legs. The loss of something you love can tear you open in a way that is incomparable to anything else. I thought I’d experienced the feeling of loss and grief when friends passed, or when my marriage ended, or when friendships came to a natural close. But nothing could prepare me for this. Total raw, deep wounded, uncontrollable, true heartache. So how do I explain this mental space I’m currently in to anyone? Let me try.

Chai came to me when I began my new life in LA. She was there at many major life events. The new LA life I was starting, moving homes, divorce, the death of my daughter’s best friend and my daughter’s graduation. She was also by my side 24/7. I’m not being extreme here, she was my registered psychiatric service dog so came into every restaurant, every movie theatre, every live theatre event, concerts, events, galleries, and museums. She was at ﬁlm festivals, appearing on every red carpet with me, and also sitting on my director’s chair when I directed movies. She travelled around the world with me on my lap on planes, trains and buses. We had something unique. So for 12 years and 3 months we were physically together all the time. The only time I wasn’t with her was one trip to Peru and I can assure you I missed her every single day of that.

Photo Courtesy: Elizabeth Blake-Thomas

ELIZABETH BLAKE-THOMAS FILM DIRECTOR, INTERNATIONAL KEYNOTE SPEAKER, & CREATIVITY COACH

“I wasn’t anyone

without Chai.”

We were on our last (not that I knew this) trip to Michigan to see family. I keep reliving those last four days, did I miss something? Was there something I could have done to change this outcome? By the way, these thoughts come into my mind every hour at the moment. Everything was ﬁne, no signs, no differences in her behavior. I’ve also googled every hour signs of death, signs of heart attack. She had nothing. On the last day we were at events and enjoying life. She only began having breathing problems at about 11pm at night. We thought it was allergies. THERE WERE NO SIGNS. By 2:30am I decided to take her to the vet (after she had been asleep on the bed comfortably sleeping) I just knew something was more serious. We got in the car. At 3:30am she was taken from me where she had tests. Blood cells and count were all good. She had ﬂuid on her lungs though. So they decided to place her in the oxygen chamber. I didn’t want her to be scared so I said, “See you later. Love you”. The vet said we needed to give 12-24 hours to see how she fared. So we left. At 7am I received a call as planned saying nothing had changed. I thought this meant at least it hadn’t gotten worse. Then I was abruptly woken up at 8am and told the words I never wanted to hear. “Miss Chai has passed away, three minutes ago”.

I’ve been told a guttural scream and groan left my body. I remember just repeating, “what do you mean? I don’t understand, you just called me and told me she was alive”. The next half an hour was a blur as we got dressed and drove to the vet’s. She was given to me in a blanket, 45 minutes after she had passed. She was still warm and smelled so good.

This wasn’t the plan, we had come merely for the weekend. We had things arranged for when we returned to LA. I had just had my baby stolen from me too soon.

What I hadn’t expected was all the other ﬂoods of emotions that rushed to me over the next couple of days. I was lost; I didn’t know who I was. I wasn’t anyone without Chai. As I explained before, this may sound extreme but my arm, leg and any other part of me that felt crucial to me living had been taken. I am known as the hat and dog lady. She was my identity. This may sound “unhealthy” but it wasn’t, it was pure unconditional love. We were each other's everything.

I felt three layers of grief. Grief for physically losing my baby, then a layer of losing what we had together and our plans and our future. Then ﬁnally a layer of grief for who I was and had become. Everything was stripped from me. Everything suddenly seemed futile. Friendships, work, plans, socializing. None of it actually mattered if Chai wasn’t by my side.

How are you reacting now? Are you thinking this is silly and “time will heal”, or do you totally understand?

I began googling the loss of a parent and or a child to try and see if this was comparable. What I learned is that grief is the only thing that isn’t textbook. Okay, there are 5 stages, but nothing can explain how these stages will affect you, or when, or for how long. So I was left to navigate this by myself. I decided to do something I've never actually done properly before. I sat with my feelings. My true feelings. I let myself groan and cry, and rest and sleep. I let myself hug and sleep with her bag of ashes. I didn’t go out. I went for a local walk only when I felt ready. I didn’t try to make other people feel better for my grief by responding to them all. I sat with my grief and felt it throughout my whole body. I allowed myself to process it all.

Photo Courtesy: Elizabeth Blake-Thomas

IN LOVING MEMORY OF CHAI

Written and Narrated by Elizabeth Blake-Thomas https://awarenow.us/podcast/in-loving-memory-of-chai

I recognized that my life had changed. I didn’t know this meant that I would totally change. The way I lived changed. The phrase “time will heal” to me is total BS. It doesn’t heal, you just learn to live with it in your everyday life. You are still in the club with a lifetime membership. You are still forever changed. You just have to learn to live with it.

So what now? I am changing my life. I've had a friend cleanse. I now recognize that the things I used to do need to be done in a different way. I've learned where I want to spend my time. I've understood how brave I am and how I have courage I didn’t know I had. Chai’s time with me was the most amazing part of my life. We were “a three”, my daughter, Chai and I. I won’t let her life be in vain. Everything she taught me needs to be something I pass on. She taught me and reminded me how to live, how to love and now how to deal with loss.

I will never forget her and I ask for anyone experiencing this kind of pain and grief to not hold it inside. Do not be afraid to share this. You may need to ﬁnd your people or your own outlet, but know it’s real, that you’re heard and that it only hurts this much because of how hard you loved them.

In loving memory of Chai. ∎

ELIZABETH BLAKE-THOMAS

Storyteller, Philanthropist & Ofﬁcial Ambassador for Human Trafﬁcking Awareness www.awarenowmedia.com/elizabethblakethomas

Elizabeth Blake-Thomas is a British award-winning storyteller and philanthropist based in Los Angeles. She is the founder and resident director of entertainment company Mother & Daughter Entertainment, whose motto is “Making Content That Matters”, putting focus on each project starting a conversation amongst viewers. She is also the creator of the healing methodology Medicine with Words which is designed to help “spring clean” your mind and help free yourself from unnecessary noise so that you can live a more purposeful, peaceful life. She is the author of Filmmaking Without Fear which is a multi-medium resource curated for indie ﬁlmmakers. Her FWF podcast is available on all streaming platforms, and the book of the same name is available on Amazon. She is a regular on panels at Sundance, Cannes and Toronto International Film Festival, Elizabeth mentors wherever possible, ensuring she sends the elevator back down to all other female storytellers.

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DR. DAVID PRESTON FOUNDER OF OPEN-SOURCE LEARNING

‘PEQ

PERFORMANCE’ EXCLUSIVE COLUMN BY SONJA MONTIEL FEATURING DR. DAVID PRESTON

THE LEARNING REBELLION

THE ORIGINS OF OPEN-SOURCE LEARNING

We are born learners. We love solving the mystery, fixing the glitch, and coming up with the right answer or a better way. Learning is our superpower. But sometimes, at work and even in school, we find ourselves up against forces and constraints that make it harder for us to learn. Dr. David Preston is here to help you fight the good fight. (Edited for length and clarity.)

It’s a bad idea to start the day on social media. But there I was, at 4:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning, reading the tweet from Matt Reynolds. For the third time.

@prestonlearning—good morning for a flight?

Oh wait, still a little early.

I’d been looking forward to this for months, but now I felt an icy tingle of fear. I replied:

@mattrey17—yes!

How many high school teachers get to tag along while a student flies a plane?

I hope this isn’t my last tweet.

Flying an airplane is a long way from sitting in a typical high school classroom. Riding in the back seat while a teenager flies a plane is a long way from normal.

– Excerpt from the Preface of Dr. Preston’s book ACADEMY OF ONE

Encouraging a high school student to forget about our English class and pursue his passion to become a pilot made perfect sense to me – Matt was his best self that day eleven years ago, and he now has a successful career in aviation. The event was only extraordinary because schooling has become such a rigid, transactional, test-driven exercise in compliance that empathy, trust, innovation, creativity, and especially risk have become outlier phenomena.

Hi. I’m David. I’m pulling back the curtain to introduce myself in the first person because I want you to know that what you’re about to read (or hear, because we have those learning choices now) is me talking – not AI. Sonja was kind enough to invite me to a conversation by asking some thought-provoking questions. What follows is my attempt to answer. Please thank Sonja for the parts you like. You can blame me for the rest.

I’ll start by being honest with you about what I didn’t write in my book about that flight. The whole time, a song was going through my head (all the way down to my very white knuckles) as the tiny plane bounced through the air. I can still hear the lyrics from “Once in a Lifetime” by the Talking Heads: And you may ask yourself: Well? How did I get here?

Sonja started our chat by asking me the same thing. I get that a lot.

DR. DAVID PRESTON FOUNDER OF OPEN-SOURCE LEARNING

In 2004 I took a break from management consulting and teaching at UCLA to teach English at a large public high school in Los Angeles. That “break” turned into 17 years of teaching in six California high schools, two years of launching an interdisciplinary, virtual academy during the pandemic, and recently returning to the consulting world in the public, nonprofit, and private sectors with a philosophy for the Digital Age that has become known as Open-Source Learning.

Every semester that I taught high school, someone asked me what I was doing in the classroom – not in an unfriendly way, just concerned, like maybe I’d gotten lost on my way to a better life. I still remember the first time it happened, at James Monroe High School in Los Angeles. Junior Ruth Pimentel gave me a quizzical look as she walked out of class and dropped a note on my desk: “Dear Dr. Preston,” Ruth wrote, “I don’t mean to mock you, but what is a person with a Ph.D. doing in high school? Don’t you want to be a success?”

Yes Ruth, I do. In fact, I want everyone to be a success.

So first I’ll tell you a little about how I got here. Then I’ll tell you where I think we all need to go.

HOW DID I GET HERE?

Where do I start? The Big Bang? Homo Sapiens outcompeting the other hominids by thinking in abstract symbols to organize in large numbers? Agriculture? My Mom’s ancestors surviving the Plague or the Holocaust to search out a better life somewhere else? My Dad’s Mom ignoring classmate Ray Bradbury’s flirtation at Los Angeles High School 90 years ago and instead hooking up with the guy who’d become my grandfather? My exchange student parents getting ditched on the Metro in Paris by their dates and spending the rest of the evening – and their lives – together? Zolzaya Damdinsuren showing up in my class and inviting me home to Mongolia?

I’m asking all that for a reason. The amazing confluence of nature and nurture, in the form of trillions of variables and circumstances and genes and cultures and families of origin and remembrances, is what makes us US. Any scientist or philosopher worth their salt will tell you that it all matters, somewhere deep in the 11.5 trillion neurons we carry around between our ears.

We connect, reconnect, and prune that neuronal architecture in new ways every second we’re alive. Right now, even as you read this, you are literally changing your mind. That’s what learning is. Every one of us is a learner, and every learner is endlessly fascinating.

Unlike your fingerprint, which is individual but also static, your learning is individual and dynamic – it’s not only unique to you, but it also changes from moment to moment. Everything from the quality of your last night’s sleep to your most recent meal alter your physical composition and your conscious experience of being alive, not to mention your focus, your patience, your memory, and so much more.

But there is no user’s manual for our brain or our body. No one teaches us how to pay attention or navigate social systems. Or how our tools now use us. Our schools and our economy don’t account for the qualities that influence our ability to learn. And we are suffering the consequences.

I’ve been working on this problem since I was five years old, when I got sick and I missed a lot of school. A teacher brought lessons and assignments to my house. When she left, I got to work. I got to read about dinosaurs, construction, time travel… and I fell in love with learning.

The more I learned, the more I realized I had to learn. I mean that last sentence in two ways. First, the things I learned taught me just how much more there was out there to learn. The introduction to something new is always exciting. Then comes the realization that I am just scratching the surface. I see what master practitioners have done and suddenly there are more questions and rabbit hole opportunities to explore everywhere.

The second meaning of “I had to learn” is that learning began to feel imperative. I became hungrier and more motivated to reach for and grasp concepts and details that helped me understand the world around me and my place within it.

“Sometimes you need to swim against the current just to remember who you are. And sometimes you need to stand and be counted so others know who you are.”

If there is such a thing as a truth-seeking geek equivalent of an apex predator, I’m that.

But going back to the first grade at school was challenging. I had to give up learning the way I did it and accept the authoritarian rules of being taught. Learning is active and engaged. Being taught is “please read silently while I read aloud.” Ugh. Telling children to stop asking questions and keep their eyes on their own paper and raise their hand to speak and go to the bathroom is like raising veal for the rodeo. And it doesn’t end well. Teachers must act like sergeantsat-arms to enforce the rules. Then employers roll their eyes and wonder why recent graduates don’t speak up or take initiative.

You probably guessed it: I got in trouble right away. I whispered to my seatmate, “Why is the teacher pulling those kids’ hair for getting their math problems wrong?” The teacher heard me and sent me to the principal’s office.

That long walk from Room 3 was when I started thinking about learning, education, and schooling as separate concepts.

School became the obstacle I had to overcome so I could keep learning. Mostly I got A’s and flew under the radar, but sometimes you need to swim against the current just to remember who you are. And sometimes you need to stand and be counted so others know who you are. In junior high school, I organized a summit with LAUSD administrators, board members, teachers, parents and students to create a student Bill of Rights. In high school I picked a public fight with a racist principal (she lost). At UCLA, I took classes all over campus until the registrar threatened to kick me out if I didn’t choose a major. I went to law school – for one day.

When I graduated for the last time, I had learned to question assumptions, consider issues from multiple perspectives, and build diverse learning communities of mentors, critics, and peers. (Note: Diversity is the ultimate sustainable competitive advantage – learning with/from people who are different than you makes everything better, most especially you. Here we can learn from nature. If we only have one cultivar of banana, say Cavendish, and that Cavendish is vulnerable to fusarium oxysporum, all it takes is one rogue strain of TR4 and then no more banana splits.

I spent the next eleven years teaching at UCLA and working as a management consultant on the very human business of organizational development. I helped clients align cultures, build cross-functional teams, manage conflict, drive visionary strategic planning, and create learning events and academies to support everything from CE to operations to succession.

My UCLA students were brilliant and my clients were successful. But after 9/11, as the conversations changed and I paid more attention, I realized that these unique and amazing people all had one terrible thing in common. Privately, they told me that they had to recover – heal, even – from their formal schooling just to get along in life, much less to thrive in their professional and creative endeavors.

With that in mind, I reentered the cave of my darkest fears. When we get to know each other better, I’ll tell you how I started teaching at one of the nation’s largest public high schools on a dare from a Los Angeles Unified School District administrator. Or how I set what I’m pretty sure is the world record for longest home visit when I spent time with a student and his family in Mongolia. Right now, what I really want you to know is that we need to take full advantage of our tools and what we know about learning before we lose our way of life altogether.

WHERE WE NEED TO GO

The future is increasingly complicated and uncertain, and we’re going to have to learn our way through it. Traditional school curriculum is obsolete, boring, and generally not worth talking about unless you’re a person who likes to fight about bibles.

On the other hand, every question is an interdisciplinary question that starts a wide-ranging exploration of all the traditional academic subjects and much, much more. So rather than focusing on the updated versions of subjects that were formalized in a culture that no longer exists, I began providing spaces where learners could pursue their own passionate curiosities. Hence the plane ride. Along the way, I created an Open-Source Learning framework of fitnesses to help ensure that no matter what concepts and skills people master, they build their own capacities in the process:

Mental Fitness: focus, memory, navigating our emotions, and learning to learn

Physical Fitness: exercise, nutrition, and rest for optimal energy and health

Civic Fitness: stewarding resources and relationships in social systems

Spiritual Fitness: harnessing the benefits of awe and wonder

Technological Fitness: making the most effective use of tools and strategies

THE LEARNING REBELLION

Interview with Dr. David Preston https://awarenow.us/podcast/the-origins-of-open-source-learning

Strengthening ourselves in these ways has so many benefits that they need their own book, which is why I’m currently writing The Sixth Fitness.

The internet is over 50 years old and we’ve never had an awareness campaign around it. Now everyone is talking about AI without understanding the technology behind it or the ethical implications of how it is developed and deployed. Meanwhile, everything is being politicized and teachers are told to stay neutral. The problem, as Paulo Freire and others have noted, is that there is no neutral – failure to speak up against racism, religious fundamentalism, or surveillance abuse reinforces the power of the status quo.

We have proven that we can do better. My learning communities didn’t blink when the coronavirus pandemic shut down our campus. Today my clients build learning events and environments that create opportunities and communities that weren’t possible even just a few years ago.

Open-Source Learning is yours. You don’t need tools or a budget. Ask a Big Question. Start an argument as a search for truth that ends in a hug. Walk around the block. Write in a journal. And answer me this: When are you going to learn? ∎

Dr. David Preston helps leaders and organizations build high-performing learning communities. Founder of OpenSource Learning, David draws on decades of experience writing for the Los Angeles Times, teaching at UCLA and California high schools, and building a Los Angeles-based management consulting practice. David is also the author of ACADEMY OF ONE (Rowman & Littleﬁeld, 2021). He loves being outside, eating good food, and competing in Ironman triathlons.

To learn more about Open-Source Learning and Dr. David Preston visit: davidpreston.net

Connect on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/david-preston-learning

Subscribe to the Open-Source Learning News: https://paragraph.com/@curious_af

SONJA MONTIEL

Co-Founder of PEQ Performance Consulting www.awarenowmedia.com/sonja-montiel

SONJA MONTIEL (MA Education) is a cofounder of PEQ Performance Consulting LLC and cohost of “The DH Effect” podcast. She and her partner, Hilary Bilbrey, guide individuals, families, and teams to consistently reach successful outcomes through positive and emotional intelligence strategies. During Sonja’s 23 years working with thousands of teens and young adults worldwide, she began to witness many societies creating an unhealthy hyper-achieving culture that misguides our young people in their pursuit of living a life of fulﬁllment. Sonja is changing that narrative highlighting educators around the world who dare to think differently about education. (www.peq-performance.com)

www.IamAwareNow.com

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PAUL S. ROGERS TRANSFORMATION EXPERT, AWARENESS HELLRAISER & PUBLIC SPEAKER

‘RELEASE THE GENIE’ EXCLUSIVE COLUMN BY PAUL S. ROGERS

LIFE LEAVES A MARK THE BEAUTY OF IMPACT

Release The Genie Fact: The Genie knows which came ﬁrst the chicken or the egg.

Every sunrise paints the world with a fresh start. Each day, the way we live leaves ﬁngerprints of our presence, echoes of our choices, and impressions upon the hearts we’ve touched. Life, in its short and unpredictable nature, does not pass us by without leaving a mark. Whether it’s in its softer guise as the laughter we share, the love we offer, or its more abrasive nature in lessons we learn, we are simultaneously shaped by life and the shapers of it.

We often think of leaving a mark in grand, sweeping gestures, such as inventing something revolutionary, writing a bestselling book, or changing the world in ways that make headlines. But life’s most enduring imprints are often quiet. A word of encouragement at the right time, a hug offered to someone grieving, or even a smile to a stranger can be enough to tilt the course of a day, or even a life. Our presence matters more than we realize.

Consider the coach who saw potential in a student when no one else did. That student might grow to become someone who changes countless lives, all because one person believed. Or think about a parent who worked long hours, not for glory, but to give their child a better future. Their sacriﬁces, invisible to the world, left a mark that will last generations. Life’s true impact is often immeasurable; not because it’s small, but because it’s deeply personal.

What makes life’s marks so uplifting is their capacity to multiply. Acts of kindness ripple outward. When we lift someone up, they are more likely to lift others. When we choose compassion over judgment, courage over fear, and hope over despair, we create patterns that others can follow. In this way, we become part of something bigger than ourselves. Whilst not always visible at the time, these kind acts become links in a chain of goodness that transcends both time and place.

Even our struggles leave meaningful marks. Scars, both emotional and physical, tell stories of survival, resilience, and growth. They are reminders of what we’ve overcome and who we’ve become in the process. Life doesn’t promise to be easy, but it does promise the opportunity to grow through adversity. When we emerge from challenges, not bitter but better, we leave behind a legacy of hope and strength that inspires others to do the same. We only need to look at nature for a proof. Trees grow stronger where they are weathered by storms. Rivers leave grooves in rocks, not by force, but by persistence. And even the smallest seed, buried in darkness, eventually reaches for the light.

We are also marked by those we encounter along the way. I am a ﬁrm believer that we cross one another’s path for a reason. Life is a mosaic of connections. Some people come and go, while others stay forever, but each interaction carries meaning. A single conversation can spark a new dream. A moment of understanding can heal an old wound. And a shared memory can last a lifetime.

It’s easy, in the rush of daily life, to forget the power we hold. We become focused on to-do lists, productivity, and outcomes. But behind every task is a person with the potential to impact others. The power we hold is our choice to do or not do something. Whether you’re a bystander who steps forward and says something, a barista who remembers a customer’s name, or a neighbor who checks in on someone living alone, every action carries weight. These choices leave impressions that extend far beyond what we see.

AwareNow Podcast

LIFE LEAVES A MARK

Written and Narrated by Paul S. Rogers https://awarenow.us/podcast/life-leaves-a-mark

“When life is tough and abrasive, it’s even more important to live deliberately.”

Perhaps the most important mark we can leave is one of authenticity. When we live true to ourselves, embracing our values, our dreams, our quirks and our vulnerabilities, we give space and permission to others to do the same. We show that being human is not about perfection, but about presence. And in doing so, we share a collective understanding that we are not alone.

When life is tough and abrasive, it’s even more important to live deliberately. Rather than being washed away with its raging waters, channel the waters to where it will do no harm. Life does not owe us any explanation. In the words of Viktor Frankl. “We do not ask life what the meaning of life is. Life asks us, what is the meaning of your life and life demands our answer.” ∎

PAUL S. ROGERS

Transformation Expert, Awareness Hellraiser & Public Speaker www.awarenowmedia.com/paul-rogers

PAUL S. ROGERS is a keynote public speaking coach, transformation expert, awareness hellraiser, life coach, Trauma TBI, CPTSD mentor, train crash and cancer survivor, public speaking coach, Podcast host “Release the Genie” & best-selling author. His journey has taken him from corporate leader to kitesurfer to teacher on a ﬁrst nations reserve to today. Paul’s goal is to inspire others to ﬁnd their true purpose and passion.

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REGGIE HUBBARD

STROKE SURVIVOR, SEEKER OF TRUTH, GLOBAL CITIZEN & GOOD TROUBLE MAKER

Photo Credit: Thais Aquino

ACTIVE PEACE

ALIGNING HEALING WITH ACTIVISM

Reggie Hubbard is not your typical yoga teacher. With one foot in the world of wellness and the other in politics, he bridges the gap between personal healing and collective action. Through Active Peace Yoga, he’s helping people reconnect with their breath, their purpose, and the possibility of a more conscious, compassionate world.

ALLIÉ: Let's start out with paths. We all have a path we’re on. Reggie, let's begin with yours. Before Active Peace Yoga, before teaching, before strategy work—who were you before all this began?

REGGIE: It's funny. So, a colleague of mine is now in Greece, and I work with a whole bunch of nerds. “Nerds unite!” They're in Greece, and one of my colleagues was like, “You know, be careful of Scylla.” As a kid, my favorite words were Scylla and Charybdis. Scylla and Charybdis were in the Homeric tales—the Iliad, the Odyssey. They were creatures that would just bring destruction.

So, I was a nerdy kid who read all the books. And as a person of color being nerdy, white kids wouldn't talk to me because I was Black, and Black kids wouldn't talk to me because I was smart. I believe that is what drives my ﬁerce independence. I believe that's what drives my ability to look people in the face and be like, “I’d love to tell you that I care about what you think, but I don't.” And to do it in a way that's not angry, but just understanding that my path is

ALLIÉ: Oh, well that is powerful. That is an incredibly powerful start to your story.

REGGIE: When I teach, I’m like, “Look, Reggie, when he starts going—you’re going to drink from a ﬁre hose. Right? Settle in, and here we go.”

ALLIÉ: Yeah, and here we go. So, Reggie—the Cannon Ball Hubbard—there we go. Here we are. We talked about your path. Now, let’s talk about moments. What moment or series of moments shifted you toward where you are now, this path that you are on now?

REGGIE: Biggest moment—well, there’s several. So the beautiful thing about life… I was an existential philosophy major, so I’ve always been brooding. Honestly, I’ve been brooding since I was like 15 years old, and I turn 51 in October. So I’m a well-seasoned brooder. Luckily, I’ve been able to take brooding and make it strategic as opposed to counterproductive—like a perpetual dark night of the soul.

So, sixth grade—Becky Meadows in the back of Mr. Pendleton’s science class looked me in the face and said, “Reggie, are you going to let people bully you, or are you going to stand up for yourself?” And it was the ﬁrst time that it had been presented to me as a choice of urgency. And so I was like, “Hmm… well, since you put it to me that way, I’m going to stand up for myself.”

At that point, I was a bit of a runt. So freshman year of high school, I was 5'1", 120 pounds. Sophomore year, I was 5'11", 180 pounds. So that’s the second episode—that growth spurt. I went from chump to big dude. I got hazed and pantsed and stuff when I tried out for freshman football, but then the next year I was bigger than some of the people who were messing with me. And I remember, even in high school, one of these people being like, “I’m sorry for what happened last year.” I was like, “Don’t you ever let it happen again. I’m not going to input violence on you, but now that I can whip your ass—”

ALLIÉ: Don’t make me.

REGGIE: Yeah, you know what I mean? So don’t let karma become your worst nightmare. You know what I mean? So my growth spurt—and the grace with which I handled it—because that’s a very disruptive experience to grow that much. I mean, I was in pain all the time and couldn’t really articulate it because everything was all over the place.

In high school as well, I was class president for three years. I ran for vice president in ninth grade, and this beautiful base baritone voice that you hear was born of a horriﬁc experience with puberty. So my freshman year, I ran for class vice president. My voice cracked seven times in that speech. So it was like, “Good morning—oh my God—here we go.” I lost that election, but came back the next year for president—and won out.

Those two experiences are like: big things will happen—can you handle it with grace? And can you take a setback, own it, and then dominate?

So, ﬁrst in my family to go to college—went to Yale University. Had never seen that much wealth in my life before, especially as a ﬁrst-gen. Like I told you, majored in existential philosophy. And my parents were like, “What are you going to do with that? Teach?” I was like, “I don’t know. But here’s what I do know: the world is complex, and I need to be able to think about it on my own terms, and then express myself thereafter. So I don’t really know what that will be —but let’s make a bet.” I said this to my dad: “Dad, ten years from now, let’s talk and see how this happens.”

And ten years from graduating from Yale, after I was a roadie for a jazz band and a successful software salesman— my college roommate was like, “Reggie, I think you’ll be a hell of a salesman.” I was like, “I’m a terrible salesman. Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Only to be proven wrong and be top salesman—and then actually start running the business. In my twenties, most of my colleagues were in their ﬁfties. Worked for John Kerry’s campaign as a volunteer, then lead logistics dude for the John Edwards experience. Then took some time off in Rio de Janeiro. So that philosophy major allowed me to navigate all those things.

“I want to thank you for how poorly you treated me, because you gave me wisdom.”

REGGIE: (continued) Now, at this point in my life—two other things I’ll mention. I went to business school in Belgium and have lived in Brazil. So I’ve been an expatriate twice. And then, as a Black dude, I didn’t really get a return on my investment, because y’all are still racist. Oh my God. I see racism for real. I’m from the South, so I thought I knew racism. You go up North and realize they’re polite about their racism, as opposed to in the South where they’re in your face about it. I kind of respect people who are in your face about racism, as opposed to whatever the hell happens in the North.

So—business school in Europe, lived in Brazil for a while—three other moments I’ll mention. I worked in a nonproﬁt in Denver, Colorado. And before working for that nonproﬁt, I had applied to two huge jobs in the Obama administration. So I applied to be either Deputy Chief of Staff for Arne Duncan, or Deputy Assistant Secretary for International Education. I made it to the top two for both—woo. Got neither. Oh my God. That’s like asking someone to marry you and them telling you no. I’m like, yo, I gotta leave politics. Like, I can’t even be in D.C. anymore. I just put all my chips in—and lost the hand. I was like, oh God.

Super heartbreaking. But again, remember I told you—I have this DNA of taking a setback and then dominating. Like, taking the wisdom from that and then going forward. So I made this checklist of things that I would do to get my mind right, because I felt the dark night of the soul coming. And as an existential philosophy major, I was like, “I see you. And I know you kind of want to sit here for a while, but we’re going to change the parameters.”

So I’m going to do a whole bunch of new stuff—things I’ve never done before—that lower my blood pressure and are artsy. A friend of mine asked me to come practice yoga with her. And I was like, “I’ve never done this before, but I hear it lowers your blood pressure.”

When I took this job in Colorado, it went from awesome to awful in six days. I had already begun a yoga practice. I had begun the physical and philosophical curiosity to alchemize adversity through spiritual practice. And so as the job got worse, my yoga practice and meditation practice got deeper. And I didn’t even know that I was doing that. I mean, in retrospect, I read my journals—because I kept a journal throughout the whole thing—and there were all these little nuances being like, “Yeah, so how can they be so miserable?”

Like, I have compassion for these people who are treating me poorly, because their life must suck in order to be treating me so poorly. Because I’m not doing anything other than trying to help people. So even though I was getting it —somewhere in here, awareness was just working its way through and expressing itself through my writing. Even though it may not have been in my conscious awareness, it was deﬁnitely in my subconscious awareness—which is better for it to be anyway, because it takes root.

So that job ends with me being ﬁred via text message. When I say the worst family—I mean the worst. And the caveat is that I knew them. So I knew them, had worked with them the year before—but because I was talented and some persons felt threatened, it went from awesome to all, you know, liberal white person whatever, right? Like, “Oh, you’re great. Oh, you’re a threat. So we’re just going to pour all of our insecurity and try to smash you.”

They ﬁred me via text message—asking for an exit interview. And the capital-G Grace that spiritual practice promises showed up, because I was like, “Look, we don’t need an exit interview. You’ve gotta be kidding me. There’s no way we need an exit interview. But I want to thank you… I want to thank you for how poorly you treated me. Because you gave me wisdom. You gave me these practices. I’m all in on this yoga thing—so thank you. I wouldn’t have been all in if y’all didn’t treat me so terribly. So I now know that this ancient wisdom not only is applicable to my current situation —it has radically transformed the way that I move through the world. So thank you for that.”

STROKE SURVIVOR, SEEKER OF TRUTH, GLOBAL CITIZEN & GOOD TROUBLE MAKER

REGGIE HUBBARD

REGGIE: continued) And that’s only ten months into my yoga practice.

The other two moments I will mention—I get ﬁred, join the Bernie Sanders campaign, and essentially have an opportunity to relive my political life through a yogic lens. One of my favorite teachers called it a cosmic and karmic mulligan. You get to play the game again. You know what I mean? You get to take new shots. And basically, he was like, “Think of this as a crucible to see how deep these practices are within you.”

I was like, “Yeah. Like, totally.” You know what I mean? Supposed to be a crucible? No—I was like, “Hmm.” Because someone whose favorite words were Scylla and Charybdis and Homeric adventures… You kidding me? So I get to make my own Homeric experience? Yeah—let’s go.

And so the entire Bernie Sanders experience was the marriage of my spiritual practice and my activist practice. It went from dissimilar things to increasingly close. So that when Secretary Clinton didn’t win, and Bernie didn’t win, and the other guy won—I won’t speak his name because I have better things to do with my chi—when that happened and we were in that world, I was so peaceful that I could make decisions on what to do.

I moved from Colorado because I told my friends, “I don’t like y’all’s racism. I’m going to go back to the racism that I understand.” I can’t be Black in Colorado with this guy as president, because at least where I’m from, they don’t like us too much, and we don’t like them too much. Here, everything’s ﬁne and then y’all are hella racist. Like, I just had this job with all you woke people—like, I can’t.

So, I moved home, started working for MoveOn, then undertook 700 hours of yoga teacher training—while at the same time ﬁghting against the rescinding of the Affordable Care Act, organizing for impeachment, keeping people engaged. So it went from this to this. That linking up is what launched Active Peace.

ALLIÉ: You are right—there is a lot going on there. But what I love about all of what you said is being able to ﬁnd the harmonics in that. And how when people always say, “Well, things happen for a reason…” but things don’t happen for a reason. When something doesn’t happen that you’re counting on—and like you articulately, eloquently, and beautifully said—the metaphor I love: it’s like proposing to someone and they’re like, “No.” To take that hurt and be able to shift it and use it the way that you did to ﬁnd yourself where you are now—thank you for sharing all of that. What an incredible journey you’ve been on this far. And you’re just in the middle of all the things.

So, you have said that inner peace aligned with civic responsibility is a foundation for meaningful change. That’s not a phrase we hear every day. What does that alignment look like in real life—off the mat, in the middle of all of this noise?

REGGIE: I’ll preface my remarks by saying that the best thing to have happened to me recently was that I had a stroke. I had a stroke on April 1st, 2024, and it took away the ability for me to use my left leg and left foot. My left leg was out for like a week or so, and my left foot was out for months.

To battle back from that adversity required such depth of practice and alignment that I had to learn how to tune out the noise. You know, we are addicted to cacophony—we are addicted to rah-rah—so that when peace and quiet come, we’re often adversarial to that, when in fact that is the medicine that our nervous system requires.

So that inner peace yields—in yogic parlance—viveka, clear sight. And with that inner peace, clear sight, and discernment, you can ﬁnd different ways to be involved that move us forward. Not everyone is called to live the wild life that I’ve lived—you know what I mean? Like impeachment organizer, Bernie Sanders, whatever… music roadie, stroke survivor… The ancestors, sages, and saints have predestined for me just to be a lot. So that’s my story, and I’ve ﬁnally embraced it.

But civic engagement could be: I’m going to smile at every cashier at the grocery store and give them a human moment. Because you do not know what that human moment will beget. There are people for whom—I'll give you an example—I had dinner this weekend after a gong experience that I played in Leesburg, Virginia.

REGGIE: (continued) So, I went to this bar. I sat at the end just to keep myself from the noise, but also—I’m just there to eat. I’m not really there to kick it with anybody. I just played gongs for two hours and whatever, and I end up having this conversation with a woman who’s a nurse and her ﬁancé.

And out of the blue, they’re like, “Do you have any advice for people about to get married?” And I’m like, “What?” Well… what I’ll say is that as a couple getting to learn to know each other, view your differences as opportunities for discovery as opposed to opportunities for critique.

ALLIÉ: I love that.

REGGIE: Yeah. And they were like, “Damn. This crazy Afro brother in an Adidas jacket just eating his salad just helped us with our engagement.”

And she was a nurse. And ﬁrst of all, I thanked her. I was like, “Thank you.” As a stroke survivor—people hate on y’all. You know what I mean? Anytime I hear that someone’s a nurse, I go out of my way to either teach them or play sound for them because they gave me so much. And even when I was super sick and having a stroke, I would play sound for them. I would play because it was not only helping me—I was like, “How can I be a blessing to you, even in my messed-up state?”

So inner peace and civic responsibility yield transformative change. I was able to have conversations with these nurses in my stroke ward in Columbia, South Carolina, where this one lady was like, “You know, I think I’m going to take yoga teacher training and meditation—because of you.”

And I’m laying there on this bed with my leg out to the side—it’s not working—and I’m just… you know. Like, really human, ridiculously spiritual interactions—four days after I had a near-death experience. That’s what I mean by that. Being peaceful and seeking opportunities to serve make radical change.

So, big Afro Black dude playing sound bowls in the emergency ward in Lexington Medical Center in South Carolina created opportunities—for orderlies to ﬁnd peace, for neurologists to ﬁnd peace, for one of the nurses to be like, “People have been ridiculing me, but I think I’m going to take this yoga teacher training.”

That’s transformative change. It’s not ﬂashy. It’s not like, “I’m going to do these protests…” (And plus, I’ve done my fair share of protests—I’m not hating on that.) I’m just saying that that subtle “my peace with my heart and mind of service” made radical change.

ALLIÉ: That is such a beautiful story. And I love how you illustrate the fact that transformative change can be incremental. It doesn’t have to be these big things. It can be just being present, just showing up. Not too ﬂash-in-thepan, but real, sustainable change—to make it incremental, to make it authentic, even when you’re in the hospital with your leg out to the side. To be able to do these things, right? Rock what you got. That’s what I like to say.

REGGIE: Yeah, I’m paralyzed, almost died a couple days ago and stuff, and I’m just like, “Hey, can I play for you?” People were just like, “What?” I’m like, “Nah, for real. It’s calming my nerves, so maybe it’ll help you.” And being authentic about it made all the change.

I mean, even more so—on my stroke anniversary, April 1st, 2025—I was healthy enough to speak at the Maryland Brain Injury Association. So I talked about my ridiculous experience having been a stroke victim, but taking that from victim to being a survivor and thriver, and presented on how mindfulness and sound and yoga were key to my recovery—to doctors, to occupational therapists. So basically, it’s like: here’s a survivor’s rendering of his healing, in terms that you understand.

ALLIÉ: Yeah, that’s beautiful. And just to be able to ﬁnd that common denominator and be able to speak to it—

REGGIE: Dramatically changing, like, the brain injury pro. Heart of service.

“Patriarchal capitalistic paradigm suggests that your only worth is based on your output.”

ALLIÉ: A heart of service. And you are a heart of service. You work with activists—people who often carry that emotional weight of the world. Reggie, what does burnout look like when it’s dressed as purpose?

REGGIE: Beautiful question. What I tell people often is that as activists, as social changemakers, as people who care to make a difference in the world, you gotta be careful to discern: are you using the tools of creation, or the tools of destruction?

So, what do I mean by that? What I mean is this… Patriarchal capitalistic paradigm suggests that your only worth is based on your output. So, if your body is telling you, I’m exhausted, but your mind is addicted to output—that’s burnout dressed as purpose. You have nothing to give. Everything within you is telling you to rest, yet you feel as though either—I've heard everything from “rest is for suckers” to “I just have to think of this other thing.”

You know what I mean? My best ideas come when I’m quiet. Like this—I’m going to show you. Low light. Quiet. I’ll play these gongs or something. So I’ll play, and I’ll just sit.

I’m a strategic advisor to this group called the Vera Institute, trying to help public safety messaging be more mainstream. Like, hey, can we have ‘safe communities’ as opposed to ‘tough on crime’? Because that’s crazy. Like, what are you talking about? That’s some racist stuff. And my best idea came from when I was resting. I wasn’t doing anything. And we were on a call with a pollster, and he said something, and I was just like, “You know what? I hear you, but it’d be cool if you took a look at the actions of this administration and whether they make us feel more safe.” And so they did that as a battery in their polling, and they were like, “Reggie…” I was like, “Yeah. Y’all thought I was crazy. And that idea is a banger.”

So, me resting, being free, having the stuff in my mind—because what happens, especially with activists who are burnt out and doing too much—you consume, you consume, you consume. You consume with your eyes. You consume with your ears. But you haven’t given the body and your mind a chance to metabolize or digest what you’ve consumed. So without time for digestion—

ALLIÉ: Empty calories.

REGGIE: Yeah. Calories, inﬂammation, whatever. I mean, you can choose the analogy and go whatever way you want to go. But like, absent the chance to digest—and you keep eating—oh, that’s a recipe for disaster. And the last thing I’ll say is that you can’t give what you don’t have. So if you don’t have the energy, it’s incumbent upon you to resource yourself, to have the energy to give to yourself ﬁrst. And then from your abundance, then you can give to all these other things.

ALLIÉ: That makes just nothing but complete sense, and it seems like it’s so simple and so easy. So it’s like—how is it so hard to oversee that? I guess my question here is: how do you help others recognize it before it’s too late?

REGGIE: Well, I mean—it’s only too late if you die. You know, like the beauty of the human experience—to quote my dear friend and fellow teacher Sharon Salzberg—is that you can begin again. There’s always an opportunity to start over. Try something out, it doesn’t work, give yourself grace, start over. You gotta be compassionate with yourself. We are conditioned to think this way.

I was thinking about this… Why is it that we think we have to always be doing something? Why? Says who? That doesn’t make any sense.

REGGIE: continued) So with respect to burnout and purpose—in political work, social change work, even just living— our fight is as much physical, mental, and spiritual as it is political and philosophical. It’s all five of those things. So if you invest in all five, the synergy of what comes from that yields abundance. But if any of those are deficient—if you’re all political and philosophical and don’t care about your physicality, don’t care about your mental well-being, don’t care about your spiritual well-being—that’s way out of balance. So it’s not a centrifugal force of good. It’s something that’s careening and destroying, like the Tasmanian Devil. But we’ve been conditioned to think that a rapid pace is better than an intentional pace.

ALLIÉ: Absolutely. And so to your point—like recognizing that conditioning and why. I’m kind of a word nerd, so… we are human beings, but it’s like we have to be human doings. So to your point, why can’t we just simply be—and give ourselves grace just to be?

REGGIE: And grace builds upon itself. So giving yourself grace to be like—I mean, because I just laugh out loud that I’m a teacher of reputation now. Like, who knows all these folks, and people ask me to do this stuff? Because I didn’t plan on it. But I gave myself grace when I was learning how to teach to be like, I think all the stuff that these people are saying is ridiculous, but I’m going to do it anyway.

I remember when I learned walking meditation—I was like, This stuff is so stupid. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. But guess what helped me learn how to walk again? Walking meditation. So when I’m in stroke recovery and I have to learn how to walk again—plant ﬁrmly, gently raise leg, plant, steady, plant. So all the stuff that I ridiculed, even scoffed at—but did anyway—I gave myself grace.

Because people have been trying to tell me lies for years. I told you—I’ve been bullied, I’ve been all this other stuff. Like, people always been trying to get over on me. So this is like my natural inclination. So I give grace for the conditioning that I have to keep people at a distance—but also give grace for the fact that I’ve cultivated the capacity to do it anyway.

ALLIÉ: That is a beautiful balance, my friend.

REGGIE: Libra. Can’t help it. I’m actually obligated.

ALLIÉ: Okay. So, there is one more question that I wanted to run by you. There are a lot of people right now looking for peace, but feeling too broken, too angry, too tired to reach for it. So, question for you now is: what would you say to someone who wants to start healing but doesn’t know how to begin?

REGGIE: The one thing that I would say to begin—for anybody in that circumstance—is to remember that you are worth it. Like, for real though. Not like no afﬁrmation shit. You know what I mean? I’m not talking about that. But like, you are worth it. You are here. And healing is not elegant—but it’s beautiful. It’s not easy—but it’s simple. And I mean, I know this from my lived experience. Healing is so generous. Meaning that if you turn toward it—to the capacity that you’re able to—what ends up happening is that you build your capacity for more healing. And you ain’t gonna heal like that, but remembering that you are worth it, and if you turn toward it 2%—metaphorically—your capacity will grow by 4 to 8%, because it becomes a little easier.

One step at a time, with grace, and the opportunity to be like, Yeah, I may have made some mistakes—but I can fix them now. And what I can’t fix and change, peace be upon it. What I can fix and change—may I have the courage and the persistence to make so.

You are not too broken to heal. That is conditioning that you’ve received. We are hardwired to heal—individually and collectively. Healing and peace is in our coding. We’ve just been conditioned to not remember that.

ALLIÉ: I did not tell the truth. I have one more question for you today before I let you off the hook, my friend. When you look at the world today—not just at what’s wrong, because that’s easy to see—but about what’s possible. What gives you hope, Reggie?

ACTIVE PEACE

Exclusive Interview with Reggie Hubbard https://awarenow.us/podcast/active-peace

REGGIE: So—well—two things I’ll mention speciﬁcally. One is that a friend of mine from college brought her teenage son to see me yesterday—14. I swear to God, I thought I was talking to me. I was just like, Oh. Beautiful brown young man, angry at the state of affairs in the world—and justiﬁably so. Way too smart for his peers. And I sat and talked with him for an hour. We played gongs, we talked about all these other things. He asked me everything, and I answered everything. Why? Because I can’t take this wisdom with me. And I told him, I wish I could’ve talked to someone like me when I was 14 years old.

So, there are youngsters that are desirous of wisdom… The fact that there are youth who have been through all this and still want to learn, and still have a heart for—like, I asked him, “What do you want to do when you grow up?” And he was like, “I want to major in political science because I want to study why systems of oppression are perpetuated against people of color.” Wow. You’re 14 and thinking like that?! Oh man—here’s my phone number. Call me for anything, brother. Because if you’re thinking like that now? Oh man, that gives me so much hope and optimism. I’m getting… It’s my job as an elder to nourish that.

And the other thing that gives me hope is that—even in a world that, again, we’re programmed to think is going to hell —this brown dude, in ﬁve years, has gone from “Oh man, I think I’ll teach…” to like—I started talking into a laptop on April 4th, 2020. Now I’m in partnership with the Kripalu Institute. I’m in partnership with the Omega Institute. You know what I mean? Some people have been teaching for zillions of years and aren’t in partnership with them. So I’ve been able to disrupt all of these norms and create beautiful stuff. I did a class—with gongs and all this other stuff—on the Kripalu online platform. 150 people came to that thing. Like, 250 signed up. They don’t see numbers like that, right?

So even in this world that’s like, “Oh, everything sucks,” the messages I’m receiving and the messages I’m offering— they’re landing. I’m not worried about what’s falling apart. I’m focused on what I’m building. Even as things are falling apart, there are things coming through me that are exploding. That’s what gives me hope. Not just for me, but just as a tool. So if it can happen to me, it can happen to all of us. We just have to turn toward it—and believe in each other. ∎

Catch the rest of this conversation with Reggie here: https://awarenow.us/active-peace-part-2 (Tune in for the second half where Reggie talks about sound and plays his gongs and sound bowls.)

Find & follow Reggie on Instagram: @oreggieglobal Also follow Active Peace Yoga: @activepeaceyoga

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JACK MCGUIRE CO-FOUNDER OF AWARENOW

Photo Credit: Bongani Nkwinika

ORIGINAL POEM BY JACK MCGUIRE

WHERE SHALL WE BEGIN

In a time when headlines blur and truths bend, poetry becomes a way to process the weight of it all. These words are less about answers and more about asking the questions that keep us human.

If you died tonight Would you be happy with what you leave behind

What's real

What have we been told to feel

If your endlessness is never ending Where shall we begin

I'm hanging on every word I'm worried about a world Where life is taken Forsaken

When does the tide turn We're hiding again

If I die tonight I hope the world survives

Every single person can truly make a difference.

MAXWELL ACEE DONOVAN ACTOR & ENVIRONMENTAL ADVOCATE

SCENE CHANGE FROM ACTING TO

ACTIVISM

He may be known for his breakout role in That ‘90s Show and his latest leap into the thriller genre with The Better Sister, but Maxwell Acee Donovan is doing something even more gripping behind the scenes. Alongside his sister Clare, he’s co-founded Nature’s Negotiators, a nonproﬁt movement created by Gen Z for Gen Z—raising funds and awareness for climate justice in real time, not just someday.

ALLIÉ: Let's start at the very beginning. It's been said—it’s a very good place to start. Uh, when did your career as an actor begin? Maxwell, let's start there. How did you get into this whole business?

MAXWELL: As with most things, it comes back to my sister being very cool and awesome. When we lived in Colorado, she got really into theater, and we lived like, you know, 45 minutes outside of Aspen, which makes our hometown sound a little bougier than it is, but it's very nice.

She had been going to this Theater Aspen summer camp, and one week they had a Hollywood producer come out.

We want to do good…

ACEE DONOVAN ACTOR & ENVIRONMENTAL ADVOCATE

MAXWELL

MAXWELL: (continued) It was so much fun. They made two short ﬁlms—my sister was in one, I was in the other. I got to play a skater kid, which was really fun for me. After that, the producer told my sister and my parents, "You should bring her out for a pilot season."

We didn't even really know what that was, but my parents were like, "Well, you know what? We both work from home right now. We might as well." So we came out, we got a manager, and the manager was like, "Max, you're a nineyear-old boy. There are going to be twice as many opportunities for you to get in there. And then we can pull each other through doors.” And I was again like, "Sure, I'm not doing anything." As soon as I got on set and ﬁgured out that they had a crafty table—which is just like endless amounts of food—I was sold. I was sucked in immediately.

ALLIÉ: So it was your sister and the endless supply of delicious things to eat. Pretty good combo, right? I mean, who could complain about such a thing?

So let's dive in a little deeper here, because you've gone from the laughs of That '90s Show to the layered intensity of The Better Sister. What drew you to this project, and what was it like stepping into such a different kind of role?

MAXWELL: Well, as soon as my team sent me over the audition, they actually attached the ﬁrst two episodes. I think I got maybe three pages in before I was just immediately hooked—I literally couldn't stop reading it.

Sometimes I try and pace myself, like, "I'll read one and then do the audition," because I don't want to get too attached. But this time I was like, "I have to have this." It's the coolest character—he’s so layered immediately from the very ﬁrst scene he’s introduced in. And then, as I read down the list of everyone attached to the project, I think my jaw just got closer and closer to the ﬂoor. I was just like, "Oh my goodness."

It was deﬁnitely an interesting transition. I was on set for '90s Show when I got the original audition, and I had to do one of the Zoom callbacks from my dressing room—right after we did a run-through of the entire show. So there was deﬁnitely a little bit of, like, trying to keep everything straight in my mind, and being like, "How do I transition from this to this?" It’s such a different world. But it was a good challenge. It was a lot of fun.

ALLIÉ: As much as you're growing as an actor, Maxwell, you're also growing something powerful off-screen with that sister of yours that you mentioned. Tell me about Nature’s Negotiators. When did it go from an idea to a mission? What sparked it?

MAXWELL: It was always something that was sort of ﬂoating around in our minds. My mom is an anthropologist and an archaeologist—that's what she did my entire life in the Southwest. So it was just always sort of there.

When we moved out here and realized, if we're going to continue in this acting world, eventually that could lead to having a voice to affect positive change. We were like, "Alright, we want to be intentional. If that potentially does happen, we want to have something locked and loaded—ready to go—so we can immediately be like, 'Hey, here's our mission.'" We want to do good with whatever platform we get. I think it was really sparked by Season 1 of '90s Show coming out, because I was like, "I want to have something I'm able to talk about, to start putting out there."

We all sat down as our little nuclear family and worked out: "Here are the three things we’re most passionate about. How do we roll that up into one?" We ﬁgured the best way to go about it was to be a 501(c)(3) tax-exempt nonproﬁt, so we could be a channel for these other amazing organizations and people already doing great work at the grassroots level. That way, we could affect the most change.

ALLIÉ: Let's get a little deeper here. A lot of people talk about climate change in very broad strokes. But you are focused on immediate and measurable impact. Why was that important to you and to Clare? And what kind of work, speciﬁcally, is Nature’s Negotiators actually supporting on the ground?

MAXWELL: Well, it was really fun again to do this with my entire family, because we’re two different generations and we’re able to have these different perspectives. My sister and I feel it’s hard not to think these problems are insurmountable, just because of how much we see about it in the news, on social media—everywhere. It’s such a big thing to wrap your mind around.

Then my mom and dad had just gone to an exhibit about the Jane Goodall Institute. They're amazing. They go in at the local level and help support the community while bringing everyone possible to the table to ﬁnd a sustainable solution. We were basically like, that’s the way to actually make change. You can see the immediate impact. When you approach it in bite-sized chunks, you start chipping away at the larger thing. Suddenly, it doesn’t seem as insurmountable anymore. We were lucky enough to partner with the Jane Goodall Institute—they’re our ofﬁcial partners. It's been really fun. We've gotten to meet Jane a couple times, and it’s such a pinch me thing—just to be in a room with her and her entire team.

As our secondary mission, we wanted to sponsor roundtables—to bring as many disparate parties to the table as possible so a solution could be reached. Eventually, we’re hoping to start implementing some conservation easements. For those who don’t know, that’s when you take a tract of land and put it into an easement—it’s forever protected. But it also provides a benefit to the landowner in the form of a tax break. It fits with our idea that everything can be done in a way that benefits everybody and still benefits the environment.

ALLIÉ: That’s great. Wins all around, right? That’s the goal. It’s the way forward. So let’s talk more about generations here. You’re speaking directly to the Gen Z audience—arguably the most vocal, certainly the most digitally savvy, and maybe the most change-hungry generation yet. So, the question now is: How do you see storytelling and social media playing a role in climate action that really sticks?

MAXWELL: I think it’s such a unique world that we live in—so much information is available at the press of a button, literally. It’s pretty inspiring to see how many people are vocal on social media and with the art they create and all these incredible things. There’s a level of disconnectedness online, but there’s also a feeling that everything’s personal. It’s like, I see a video of this person talking about it, and I feel like I know them. I feel like I can hear them say it and think, “That makes sense. I can relate that to something in my life.”

Again, having these little bite-sized chunks—I see that all the time. These little messages of hope all around. That’s one of Jane Goodall’s biggest things—spreading a message of hope. That’s what we’re trying to do—to Gen Z and even younger, Gen Alpha. Just showing, “Hey, we’re all in this together. We’re all connected, and we have a way forward.” Let’s ﬁnd easy things that everyone can do to affect change. It doesn’t have to be huge. If you’re recycling, you’re already doing something. If you’re just wearing reef-safe sunscreen into the ocean—these little things, once they become habit, are pretty exciting. The easiest way to spread that is through social media. And storytelling—it’s always been such a great tool. It’s forever been used to beneﬁt and spread good messages, and I’m excited to see that trend continue.

ALLIÉ: Yeah, absolutely. And I love how you say—when it becomes personal, it becomes relatable. It’s just using our stories to communicate and connect. You’ve got a growing platform and this growing purpose. When these two collide, I imagine it can feel like a lot to carry. So, what is it that keeps you grounded? What keeps you going when it feels heavy?

MAXWELL: I feel like I’ve got to once again give ﬂowers to my family. They’re pretty amazing. I’m super close with my entire family. I mean, I’m Greek and I have like 40 cousins. I just went out to Colorado in April and spent time with a bunch of them. I feel very lucky to have that familial connection.

I also feel really lucky because I enjoy doing what I do. So even when it becomes heavy, I take a step back and think, “Okay, but this is still so cool.” Recently, I’ve been learning how to work on old cars, with the goal of eventually converting them to electric or hybrid—without damaging the cool factor of these cars. It’s been really fun. I was tinkering on a car the other day, and I couldn’t get this thing to work. Then I took a step back and thought, “Okay, this is so cool. I’m working on an old car.” I feel like that’s the perspective my family has given me—even when things are stressful or overwhelming, it’s still a really amazing thing. It’s such a fun opportunity to get to be doing.

Exclusive Interview with Maxwell Acee Donovan https://awarenow.us/podcast/scene-change

ALLIÉ: It sounds like you’ve got this glow of gratitude about you. Perhaps that’s what helps ground you—being thankful, being excited about what you’re doing. When you have that lens to look through, it probably keeps things clear for you, yeah?

MAXWELL: I hope so. I try to be grateful. It’s pretty fun stuff.

ALLIÉ: One more thing, my friend. Let’s say someone is reading this, watching this, or listening to this conversation, and they’re feeling overwhelmed—unsure where to start when it comes to creating the change they want to see in the world. What’s the one thing you’d tell them—not as an actor, not as an activist—but just as Maxwell?

MAXWELL: I mean, I think at its core, it’s just that every single person can truly make a difference. Sometimes it’s hard to picture that, because there are so many people in any given area, but change really does start at the individual level. If people want to make a change in any kind of way, it starts with doing something yourself.

It can be as simple as sorting your cans into recycling or switching your brand of coffee. I don’t know—it can be pretty simple and still make a big impact. My sister has been trying to go vegetarian twice a week, and that saves—I don’t know the exact statistic—but X amount of water per week.

These little lifestyle changes don’t really have to affect your day-to-day much, but they’re enough to make you realize, “Hey, I’ve actually made an impact, and I don’t even have to think about it. I’m just doing it.”

ALLIÉ: I like where you’re taking us with that—change can be incremental. It doesn’t have to be one huge step. It can be little baby steps. I like how you said too—just change your coffee. These small things. These little life hacks. You don’t have to completely redirect your life.

MAXWELL: Well, because then it can become such a tough thing. It becomes, again, that insurmountable thing: “Oh, okay, well if I have to do all of this, I don’t have the time. I’m busy. I’m working. I’m going to school. Yada yada yada.”

Yes, you can do that kind of lifestyle change—and some people have. It’s incredible to see. But it’s not necessary. Everyone can do little things—things they’re able and excited to do. And that makes a huge impact. If enough people do it, then suddenly, you start to see some real major change. ∎

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Upcycling isn’t just a quirky hobby—it’s a quiet revolution.

UPCYCLING DESIGNER & ECO ENTREPRENEUR

LAURA ZABO

‘TIRELESS’ EXCLUSIVE COLUMN BY

LAURA ZABO

FROM COFFEE TO COUTURE

THE SURPRISINGLY GLAMOROUS LIFE OF A NESPRESSO POD

Once upon a time in a land called Kitchen Counter… A tiny, shiny Nespresso pod sat, fresh from brewing your morning pick-me-up, unaware of its fate. Most of its pod siblings met the dreaded fate of the bin. But not this one. Oh no. This one was destined for greatness—jewellery greatness.

What is Upcycling Anyway?

Upcycling is like recycling’s cooler, more artistic cousin. While recycling breaks things down to make something new, upcycling transforms things as they are, often without the energy-intensive processes. It’s turning “trash” into treasure —sometimes literally.

From furniture made from pallets to handbags crafted from inner tubes, the upcycling universe is vast. But perhaps one of the most charmingly unexpected stars of this scene? The humble Nespresso capsule.

Jewelery From Nespresso Pods

That’s right. Jewelery.

From coffee pods. It’s real. It’s dazzling. And no, it doesn’t smell like espresso—unless you want it to, in which case we salute your commitment to the bean.

Nespresso pods come in vibrant, metallic colours—shimmering blues, bold purples, ﬁery reds—each begging for a second life. With a bit of ﬂattening, cutting, folding, and maybe a splash of sass, they transform into lightweight earrings, eye-catching pendants, or even brooches that get compliments like, “Wait… that’s made from what now?!”

What makes them irresistible to upcyclers (aside from the fact that caffeine is involved)?

They’re aluminium, so they’re easy to manipulate and don’t rust.

They’re lightweight, so you won’t suffer from “earlobe fatigue.”

And they come in limited edition colours, which is basically fashion’s version of Pokémon cards.

Creating jewellery from Nespresso pods is like a tiny rebellion against throwaway culture—with glitter. It’s style with substance, sparkle with purpose. And the best part? Each piece comes with a story: “These earrings? Oh, just a couple of Colombian roasts I had last week.”

Creating jewelry from Nespresso pods is like a tiny rebellion against throwaway culture—with glitter.

UPCYCLING DESIGNER & ECO ENTREPRENEUR

LAURA ZABO

Why Upcycle? (Aside from the Cool Factor)

Let’s talk big picture. Upcycling isn’t just a quirky hobby—it’s a quiet revolution. Here’s why more and more people are joining the movement:

1. It’s Kind to the Planet

Landﬁlls are groaning under the weight of our waste. Fast fashion, single-use plastics, broken things we meant to ﬁx but never did. Upcycling rescues these items and gives them another shot at usefulness—no incinerator needed. It reduces demand for new raw materials, lowers greenhouse gas emissions, and keeps perfectly good stuff in circulation.

2. It’s a Creative Playground

Upcycling is like an extreme sport for creatives. It’s not just “make this look nice”—it’s “what can I make from this random broken umbrella, a shoelace, and an old cheese grater?”

The results? Often brilliant. Always unexpected. And very Pinterest-worthy.

3. It Saves You Money (and Makes You Look Clever)

Why buy new when you can transform old into “OH MY GOODNESS WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?”

Upcycled goods have that irresistible one-of-a-kind charm. Whether it’s jewellery from coffee pods or a jacket made from curtains (Sound of Music vibes, anyone?), upcycling means your style is yours alone.

4. It Turns You Into a Legend

Want to be known as That Person Who Turns Trash Into Magic? Of course you do.

Upcyclers are often the life of the party (or at least the craft fair). You’ll be the person friends call when they want to save a sentimental item, or ﬁgure out what to do with a pile of bottle caps. You’ll be the whisperer of worn-out things, the MacGyver of the eco-world.

But Wait, There’s More: Emotional Recycling

Upcycling isn’t just about stuff. It’s about stories…

A necklace made from your grandmother’s broken teacup.

A tote bag sewn from your child’s outgrown clothes.

A bracelet formed from a capsule of the coffee you sipped on your ﬁrst day in a new city.

It’s nostalgia and sustainability wrapped into one tidy package. And that’s the real magic—turning objects into memories you can wear, hold, and share.

In

the right hands, even rubbish can become radiant.

UPCYCLING DESIGNER & ECO ENTREPRENEUR

LAURA ZABO

How to Start Upcycling (Without Turning Your Home Into a Dragon’s Hoard)

We get it. Once you see the potential in everything, it’s tempting to keep everything. But upcycling isn’t about hoarding. It’s about intentional transformation. Here’s a beginner-friendly checklist:

Start small.

Try jewellery with Nespresso pods or gift tags from old cereal boxes.

Pick a material you love.

Maybe it’s fabric, wood, cans, or—yes—capsules.

Watch tutorials.

The internet is an endless wormhole of cleverness. Fall in.

Share your creations.

Post on social media. Sell on Etsy. Gift to friends. Inspire others.

Join a community.

Upcycling groups exist online and ofﬂine. And they love newcomers.

Closing Thoughts: Upcycling as a Superpower

In a world where everything feels fast, cheap, and replaceable, upcycling is an act of joyful resistance. It says: “Wait. Let’s pause. Let’s create. Let’s honour the stuff we already have.”

So next time you sip that espresso, don’t just toss the pod. See it for what it could be—a pair of earrings, a pendant, maybe even a tiny crown for your cat (no judgment). Because in the right hands, even rubbish can become radiant. And honestly, what could be more fabulous than that?

Now go forth, caffeinate, and upcycle. Your coffee pods—and the planet—thank you. ∎

Bonus challenge:

Count how many Nespresso pods you can rescue this month and tag your creations with #laura_zabo.

See and shop for Laura Zabo’s sustainable style: www.laurazabo.com

LAURA ZABO

Upcycling Designer & Eco Entrepreneur www.awarenowmedia.com/laura-zabo

LAURA ZABO strives to create a cleaner world by collecting and upcycling scrap tires into chic statement accessories. Laura creates striking belts, jewellery and even sandals for urban and ethically conscious men and women who believe in a brighter future for our planet. Her work has been spotlighted in various magazines promoting design and sustainable fashion and continues to gain exposure through social media platforms. Laura’s upcycling journey began in 2015 whilst exploring the beautiful landscapes of Tanzania. The inspiration for a sustainable fashion brand came when she stumbled across a brightly painted pair of sandals made from scrap car tire at a local maasai market. This moment planted the seed for her company, highlighting that beautiful clothing and accessories don’t have to be made by mass produced material but can be crafted by recycled objects instead. Now, six years later, Laura collects and repurposes thousands of bicycle and car tires, making not just fashion statements but promoting progression towards a healthier planet.

CATHY BRYANT CO-FOUNDER OF STREETS OF PARADISE

Photo Courtesy: Cathy Bryant

UNHOUSED BUT NOT UNSEEN

BUILDING A MOVEMENT OF DIGNITY, ONE HOME AT A TIME

In a world where the unhoused are often unseen, Cathy Bryant makes it her mission to look deeper—and act harder. As one of the founding forces behind Streets of Paradise, Cathy leads with heart, healing, and hands-on leadership, transforming a grassroots dream into a movement of dignity, shelter, and second chances.

ALLIÉ: Cathy, let's go back to the beginning—not the founding of Streets of Paradise, but the moment before that. What was the turning point when you said, we have to do something, and just as important, we have to do it ourselves?

CATHY: Yeah, so my background was in drug and alcohol counseling, domestic violence, sexual assault, crisis work. That’s the story I came from for most of my career. And then my partner, Greg Cruz—who started this with me—his background was in trauma work. He had a life of challenges, as we all do.

My challenges were different. I had a really sick kid and some personal experiences that brought me face to face with homelessness because of that. Greg grew up in foster care, so he had lived experience in that realm as well. Eventually, we both ended up in Florida. He came here in 2000. He’d already been doing grassroots work—giving back in ways that mattered to him, like collecting backpacks for kids so they could go to school, getting suitcases, organizing food drives and Christmas drives. These were the kinds of things he wished he had growing up, and now he was providing them to

CATHY BRYANT CO-FOUNDER OF STREETS OF PARADISE

Photo Courtesy: Cathy Bryant

“It’s way easier not to lose yourself when you can see the steps forward.”

CATHY: (continued) I moved here in 2014 and felt very strongly about the need for community—real, purposeful relationships. In psychology, they always say that if you have ﬁve people you can call in a time of crisis, that’s the mark of stability and success. And I moved here with my daughter, who had just graduated from high school—she was 19. When she was ﬁve, they gave her three years to live.

So I came here with no community, and in that moment, it became clearer than ever how deeply we all need community. That’s when I met Greg. He was out doing protests and activist work, and at ﬁrst, I thought, Nope, he’s a bit much for me. I can’t do all that. And yet, the work he was doing completely aligned with the work I had always done and wanted to continue doing in my new community.

When I arrived, there was actually a city and county campaign—with yard signs and everything—called Not In My Backyard, because people were ﬁghting over who should or shouldn’t have the homeless shelter. And I’ll tell you, as of this weekend, it’s been 11 years—and they still haven’t come to an agreement. So we still don’t have one. And at that time, it was actually illegal to feed people in public. So we kept getting arrested.

ALLIÉ: Pause a moment. You got arrested for feeding people?

CATHY: Oh, sure. It was illegal. They called it a ‘toxic charity’, and ﬁrmly believed that if you didn’t take care of people, they would just go away. I haven’t seen the most recent reports, but several years ago, Sarasota was actually voted the meanest city in the U.S. because of how it treated the homeless.

So we started feeding people, and to stay out of trouble for that, we called them picnics in the park. We’d hold giant picnics in a public park and advertise them on social media. Both of us had a pretty big local following—city and county—and we just started hosting these picnics. Sometimes there’d be 300 or 400 people.

ALLIÉ: Wow. That is amazing. I’m sorry, my mind is still just blown that it could be a crime to be kind.

So that’s when you ﬁgured out you just had to do it yourselves—got in trouble, found a way around it. Let’s switch for a moment to trauma-informed care, because it’s not just a buzzword for you—it’s your blueprint. How do you hold space, Cathy, for others without losing yourself in the weight of what they have to carry? Big question here.

CATHY: It is a big question. And there’s no one answer, I don’t think. It depends on the story, on how close it gets to you, and the setting in which it’s shared. Holding space looks different for so many people, and so does not losing yourself in the process. I did rape crisis work for a long time, and if the story doesn’t hit too close, it’s easier to hold space for it. If you have some breathing room, if you have referral avenues to connect people to, and you believe they’re going to get the help they need—that makes it easier. It’s way easier not to lose yourself when you can see the steps forward. Each person, each group, each collaboration—that’s a step you can take with them, that you can help direct and support. But I think the hardest part is hearing trauma when there’s no good answer. I was just having a conversation this morning about that. Compassion fatigue is really real when you’re constantly saying, I hear you, this is horrible… and yet, I don’t have a shelter. I hear you, this is real… and yet, I don’t have ﬁrst and last month’s rent or a $10,000 deposit. It’s suffering without a solution.

ALLIÉ: Yeah. Hearing all the stories that we do, and the stories that you do, and creating that space—maybe that’s what’s required in order to recognize: I can’t be the only resource… but I can be a provider of resources. Maybe that’s one way to keep showing up with compassion. You don’t want to shut it off—you don’t want to lose your empathy. You want to stay in that space, because you feel called to it. Yeah?

CATHY BRYANT CO-FOUNDER OF STREETS OF PARADISE

Photo Courtesy: Cathy Bryant

CATHY: Yes, probably always. But especially for people in crisis—crisis is hard to sit with. It’s hard to be present for, and it’s hard to hear, especially when you might not have all the answers. But the thing about most people in crisis is that they really just need to be heard. I’m sure you’ve been in crisis multiple times in your life, and just having somebody sit with you and say, I hear you, I get it—or even just validate it by saying, You know what, I’d be mad too. That’s wrong. That’s horrible. Sometimes, just having someone feel the emotion for you—when you don’t have any emotion left or you can’t express it—is everything.

That doesn’t exist all the time. Sometimes you need someone to say, I’m mad for you. I’m sad for you, and to validate those feelings—to give people the room to speak them. Because there’s always a question lingering in crisis: Was this my fault? Should I be in this space? Are you judging me? Are others going to judge me? How does this look? There are so many questions. I was reading a study the other day—I wish I could cite it, but I can’t—that talked about how in crisis, our IQs drop an average of 10 to 20 points. And I’ve seen that. I’ve felt it. I’ve lived it in myself.

Just having somebody who can maybe give you back those 10 points… Maybe make a list for you while you talk, and then hand it back and say, Okay, these are the things you identiﬁed. I’m not telling you what to do—these are your words, your struggles. I just wrote them down. Hold this, and let’s keep working through it together. That kind of support—being heard and having someone hold that in a tangible way—can be incredibly helpful.

ALLIÉ: I love that. it’s not, here’s the answer you need, but rather, here’s how I’ll help you ﬁnd your way to the answer.

CATHY: Or even, Here’s just a record so you don’t forget how far you’ve come. So the next week when we talk, I can say, Look how far you’ve come. Or tomorrow. Or at midnight. Whenever. Because sometimes, it really is those short intervals that matter most. You need a drink of water. You need to take a shower. You need to get some protein. Sometimes that’s the list.

ALLIÉ: Yeah, we all have our different lists, for sure.

So there’s the work that you do—and then there’s the way that you do it. Let’s talk speciﬁcally about Streets of Paradise, because it’s not just about furniture. It’s about dignity. It’s about this ﬁerce sense of family. Why is it so important to not just give people housing—but to give them a home? Because housing and a home are very different. I’d love to hear your thoughts here.

CATHY: So just really fast—Streets of Paradise became a 501(c)(3) in March, after our Thanksgiving picnic in the park. What we found during that picnic was really eye-opening. We had between 300 and 400 people there, and about a third of them were homeless—living on the streets. About a third were volunteers, many of whom had been doing similar work already, like with Food Not Bombs, which is where we originated. And then about a third were just people who were lonely. They didn’t have anywhere else to go on Thanksgiving. They were looking for family, for connection, for something purposeful to do on what can be a really painful day if you're alone.

From the very beginning, it was clear to us that one of the most important things we could offer was purposeful relationships and community—a way for people to come together. So for the ﬁrst year, that’s what we did. We focused on street outreach. We've always done food share, and we've never missed a week since 2014—not even during the pandemic. During those months, we served 15,000 meals in 79 days, because no one else was out there serving food. People would’ve died—literally—if we hadn’t kept going. Then in March of 2019, the federal government passed a law saying you couldn’t move into a home funded by federal dollars unless it was furnished. The reason was that the failure rate was 87%. So when someone came to us and said, “Would you start furnishing homes?”—it was kind of a funny moment. Between all of us, we had one Jeep, one truck, and one small trailer—the kind you hitch to the back of a Jeep. And we had $1,200 in the bank. That’s it. Nothing more.

So when they asked us if we’d do it, we were like, Why? How? But then they said people were failing at a rate of 87% because they didn’t have furniture. And from my background—working in drug and alcohol recovery, rape crisis, and domestic violence—I thought: I just want to know what an 87% success rate looks like. If all I have to do is furnish your house, and you are 87% more likely to succeed? Sign me up. Let’s do this.

CATHY BRYANT CO-FOUNDER OF STREETS OF PARADISE

Photo Courtesy: Cathy Bryant

It’s about telling stories. That’s where the change happens… That’s where we become a community.

CATHY: (continued) So we rented what we called a "warehouse" at the time—but really, it was just a 600-square-foot storage unit. We had big plans—an ofﬁce and all sorts of ideas for that tiny space. Every Saturday, we’d empty the entire thing into the parking lot because, of course, you couldn’t move around in there otherwise. We’d pick up gently used household items from across the two counties we serve—Sarasota and Manatee. From the very beginning, we made a rule: If we wouldn’t put it in our own homes, we won’t put it in someone else’s. People tend to hold on to a life worth living, and we didn’t want to create anything less than that. We’re very fortunate to be in wealthy counties, so we get amazing donations and can build truly beautiful homes. We also created a form that asks: What’s your favorite color? What’s your style? What do you need? What are the ages of everyone in the home? What are their favorite colors? We do our best to tailor everything we can, because people rarely have transportation to come get these items. So we pick up the furniture, bring it back to the warehouse, build a home out of it—complete with kitchen boxes, can openers, silverware, dishes, bedding, wall art—everything. And then we go and deliver it.

One of the greatest gifts we were given was our very first home in March 2019. It was for a 19-year-old young man who had just aged out of foster care. And I think that was such a gift because it immediately shattered all the stereotypes about homelessness. It blew those assumptions right out of the water. Since then, it’s shaped how we do everything. We ask: What do you need? What makes you happy? What’s your style? Then we build a relationship around that. How can we keep you in this safety net? How can we become one of your “five” if you don’t already have them? Or your third, or even all five, if that’s what you need. But let’s build a relationship—so that we know.

Since then, I think we’ve furnished about 3,700 homes—all with donated furniture—for people affected by all kinds of crises: natural disasters, ﬁres, medical emergencies. The number one cause of homelessness is medical issues. So we’ve done a lot of homes for those reasons.

Another agreement we made from the beginning was: no screening. We wouldn’t ask people to qualify. Because we’ve all been in situations where—on paper—we wouldn’t have qualiﬁed, but in reality, that help was what kept us from slipping further into trauma or becoming homeless. So we still don’t screen. And it’s perfectly ﬁne. We’re going to show up, bring you a whole home, and then welcome you in.

Right now, we’ve expanded into a larger space, and we’re under construction in partnership with the Red Cross to build a Resiliency Hub. Their reasoning is for disaster response—we’ll be able to provide temporary shelter, food, power, and stay operational during a crisis. We have Starlink, solar power, all of it—so we can keep going no matter what. And then, the rest of the year, it’s a community center. We have yoga classes, workshops, produce giveaways— all the things that bring people together. Game nights, open mic nights, a café. It’s a space for community, in every shape, size, and socioeconomic status. Kind of like what you’re doing… It’s about telling stories. That’s where the change happens. That’s where relationships are built. That’s where things become real. That’s where we become a community.

ALLIÉ: I love every single thing about what you just said. Because it’s not just things—not just a couch, a chair, a picture, or a coffee maker—that make a house a home. It’s the relationships, it’s the community, it’s everyone who’s part of the becoming of that space. It truly is a dynamic space—not just a place. It’s not just an address. It’s so much more than that. And for you to see that and to support that part of it—I think that’s what makes it sustainable. Because it’s not enough to just say, Here’s something. It’s not enough to just say, Here’s the ﬁsh. It’s the teaching of the ﬁshing. It’s the community that shows up to support. And the fact that you’re doing that in such a beautiful way—I love that.

Exclusive Interview with Cathy Bryant https://awarenow.us/podcast/unhoused-but-not-unseen

ALLIÉ: One more question I have for you today, Cathy. In the quiet moments—and it sounds like there aren’t many— with how busy you are doing this incredible work… after a move is done, or a crisis response is over, what is it that keeps you going? What do you whisper to yourself when the work feels heavy, when you feel fatigued, when hope feels far away?

CATHY: That’s a great question… I think in those moments—when it’s really heavy and you have to keep going—my mantra is this: The next right thing from a place of love is still the next right thing from a place of love. And when it feels really hopeless, I go back to this moment in my life: I had just gotten a new job. My daughter had been sick, I’d been at home for a long time, I’d lost my best friend in a tragedy, and I was in a really dark place. That job was going to be great—in a month. But not then. Not that day. And I remember one of my friends didn’t ask, didn’t make a big thing—she just said, Hey, you’re going to need $50 for gas. You’re going to need gas for a while. And I go back to that moment often. Because there was no shame, no big gesture. She didn’t need a thank you. She wasn’t trying to make it a thing. She just saw me in that moment—and it changed everything. It changed the trajectory of my entire life, probably. Because it met an actual need, with kindness and no strings attached. So when it gets like this, I go back to that. Conversations like that. Moments like this. Just the tiniest thing can change a life forever. And I might not always get to know if it made a difference. I do get to know a lot, which I’m super grateful for—we really try to hold our community close. I get to see these kiddos grow up. Some of them are aging out of high school now—kids we furnished homes for years ago. So I do get to see it. But even when I don’t—even when it feels like something has failed again—those bits and pieces of growth keep it going. Just knowing that when we show up well for each other, it’s never wasted. When we have a real conversation, when we tell a real story, when there’s real transparency —my humanity and your humanity come together—it’s never wasted. Even if we both just sit here and cry… it’s ﬁne.

ALLIÉ: Yeah. Isn’t that interesting? Sometimes, you don’t have to ﬁx anything. You just need to cry with someone. You just need to be with someone.

Thank you so much, truly, Cathy—for the work you’ve done, for the work you continue to do with Greg and everyone who’s part of Streets of Paradise. What you’re doing is so important and so needed. And this model that you’ve developed—I hope more people see it, embrace it, and recreate it in their own communities.

CATHY: Me too. ∎

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DR. TODD BROWN FOUNDER OF THE INSPIRE PROJECT & CO-FOUNDER OF OPERATION OUTBREAK

THE INSPIRE PROJECT’ EXCLUSIVE COLUMN BY DR. TODD BROWN

SAPIR-WHORF HOW LANGUAGE

TILTS THE SCALES OF LIFE AND DEATH

A ﬁre chews across a ridge in Arizona, turning trees and dry vegetation into Roman candles. An airborne virus glides from one set of lungs to the next on a packed Manhattan subway. Two soon to be catastrophes turn into a single chorus: Be safe out there. We’re turning the corner. The melody is soothing, but realistically, the lyrics are potentially lethal. While comfort may sell, clarity often saves more lives.

Trade-off is the beating heart of the Sapir–Whorf Hypothesis. You may not realize it, but you have heard of it. You’ve lived it and perhaps are living it right now. It’s the idea that language doesn’t just describe reality. It nudges perception and memory. It shapes how you and I behave. Change the wording, and it may change the world. In crisis, that change may decide who digs the safety zone, who keeps the IV line steady, and who never makes it home.

Back in 2016, wildland fire veteran Mark Smith wrote an essay entitled “The Big Lie” that pulled up the floorboard to expose the rot in fire culture. The fantasy that the right checklist guarantees zero fatalities. Every Hotshot (the “special forces” of U.S. wildfire operations) holding the line knows that the forest signs no such contract, guaranteeing safety if the words on posters and PowerPoints are followed, everyone will be safe. Fast forward four years, and a thinner lie took the podium at the White House. “Two weeks to flatten the curve.” “Mostly mild cases.” Swap flaming vegetation for N95s, and the melody is the same. Overpromise, underprepare, and ultimately lose trust. When the curve refused to flatten and the mild cases filled morgues, the public stopped listening, and if we’re being totally honest, some may never start listening again.

If we were to call a burnover a “watchout situation,” a rookie might think it’s a detour sign, not a death sentence. Brand an unknown virus that may kill, “mild,” and you hand the public permission to shrug and walk away. Under Sapir–Whorf, words don’t just report danger, they set its emotional thermostat, and we should know by now that lukewarm language anaesthetized action.

During COVID briefings, death tolls arrived with disclaimers. It was mostly the elderly, the ones with pre-existing conditions. The unspoken message was simply, it won’t touch you if you’re young or healthy. Risk drifted away into the sky like smoke, diffused and ignorable. The same drift haunts wildfire briefings that end with “Be safe out there.” A phrase so gentle it feels divorced from the odds.

At the pandemic’s outset, most Americans had never heard of aerosol transmission or asymptomatic spread. With no mental hook to hang the concept on, the threat stayed abstract. Fireﬁghting has parallel blind spots: black versus green, entrapment, and crown run. Outside the crew, the terms blur. After the Yarnell Hill tragedy, the public scoured reports for a reason nineteen elite Hotshots walked off a safe ridge to only be surrounded by ﬂames and ultimately to their deaths. The language to unpack their split-second calculus simply wasn’t there. No words, no picture. No picture, no urgency for the next time around.

Language isn’t only literal. Language is highly lyrical. We label crises with phrases like frontline workers, battle lines, and heroes. For many, a crisis overly demands obedience and quickly silences dissent. We also cast them as natural disasters, a tsunami of cases, a ﬁrestorm of transmission. Disaster imagery can invite resignation, for people to cling to a tree and pray. Metaphors can quickly short-circuit nuance. Think about it for a moment. In war, you salute the general. In a tsunami, you surrender to fate. Complex emergencies need complex solutions by ﬂexible minds, not marching orders or helpless shrugging.

“We might do everything right and still lose.”

Wildland fire and infectious disease look different on the nightly news, but their language failures are very much the same. Leaders promise absolute control, but reality delivers injuries and casualties. The gap breeds mistrust that will then lead to disengagement. Crews grow fatalistic. Citizens tune out. The fatal flaw is much the same in both instances, with overconfidence wrapped in soft words.

Critics in both fields plead for plain speech. Firefighters want briefings that admit the flames might win. Public health specialists push for press releases that say, straight up, healthy people can be hospitalized or even die, too. Until leadership tells the ugly truth, ground crews and grocerystore clerks are forced to read between the euphemisms. And reading between the lines is a dangerous pastime when the house is on fire.

After “The Big Lie,” a quiet revolt glimmered in ﬁre camps. Some instructors ditched slogans for candor, admitting this job can kill you. Simulations turned thornier afteraction reviews became rawer. Crews were urged to challenge bad calls regardless of rank. Psychological safety, or the right to voice fear or dissent, became mission critical.

Public health can borrow a match and help shine a light on uncertainties by saying, “Guidance may change because the enemy evolves.” Speak mortality without apology, complexity without jargon, uncertainty without shame. The goal isn’t panic, it’s clarity. Clear language won’t conjure rain or vaccine vials, but it plants the one thing that lets societies improvise under stress: trust.

The hardest sentence in any command post is also the most essential: We might do everything right and still lose. Accept that, and your tool belt grows. Fire crews pre-dig escape routes, and citizens keep masks handy even as case counts dip. Language that admits vulnerability breeds contingency thinking. It trades the castle wall myth for a foxhole reality where what saves you is not perfection but agility.

Fireﬁghters and epidemiologists will never swap gear, but they wrestle the same human default: clinging to cozy stories. Sapir–Whorf reminds us that those stories are written in words, and words burn. Dress danger in satin, and people dance too close. Name it for what it is, and they step back, gear up, and maybe think twice.

Whether the next siren is a red ﬂag warning or a cluster of unexplained coughs, the ﬁrst tool we unholster is language. It needs to be sharp and fearless. A single honest sentence, especially when spoken early, can save more lives than a convoy of engines or a warehouse of ventilators deployed too late. ∎

DR. TODD BROWN

Awareness Ties Columnist www.awarenowmedia.com/todd-brown

Brown is a winner of multiple education awards, including the U.S. Congressional Teacher of the Year Award, U.S. Henry Ford Innovator Award, Education Foundation Innovator of the Year, and Air Force Association STEM Teacher of the Year. Dr. Brown is the creator and founder of the Inspire Project and cocreator of Operation Outbreak, which was named the Reimagine Education Award for Best Hybrid Program in the world. He is also an Education Ambassador for the United Nations and an Educational Ambassador of the Center for Disease Control (CDC). www.IamAwareNow.com

ALLIÉ MCGUIRE AWARENOW CO-FOUNDER & MS ADVOCATE

PERSONAL STORY BY ALLIÉ MCGUIRE

MORE THAN A MS MEETING

REFLECTIONS FROM THE 2025 CMSC ANNUAL CONFERENCE

An hour before I left to catch my ﬂight from Detroit to Phoenix for the 2025 CMSC Annual Meeting, I was at the Memorial Healthcare Infusion Center in Owosso, Michigan, receiving my monthly treatment. MS doesn’t take a vacation—so neither can its needed care. With my infusion complete and my bags packed, I boarded a plane not just to attend a conference, but to step into a space where every part of the MS journey was represented—from research to treatment to real, lived experience.

The largest MS event in North America did not disappoint. Held in the heart of Phoenix, the 2025 CMSC Annual Meeting brought together every corner of the MS landscape—researchers, neurologists, pharmaceutical leaders, and patient advocacy groups like NMSS, Can Do MS, and MSAA—all under one roof and one shared purpose: to move the MS community forward.

For me, it was more than an event. It was an experience that reshaped the way I think about MS—my own journey with it, and the paths walked by so many others. I asked questions I’d never thought to ask. I learned things I didn’t know I needed to know. And I connected—not just with experts and professionals—but with people. People living with MS, like me. People caring for others, like me. People who get it.

One of the most moving moments was the tribute to June Halper, the late founder of CMSC. Described as larger than life, not just in her work but in her heart, June’s legacy was beautifully honored by her son, Michael Halper. Through his words, we glimpsed the power of one woman’s unwavering dedication—not only to the MS ﬁeld but to her family and the entire community she helped build. Her impact endures in every conversation, every breakthrough, every act of care.

Meeting Kathleen Costello, interim CEO of CMSC, was another highlight. She carries the torch of June’s mission with grace and grit, embodying the same deep commitment to the MS community. She stands as a testament to what leadership in this space should look like—rooted in compassion, backed by action.

That same spirit of support and empowerment was brought to life during More About MS, the CMSC Patient Program hosted by Can Do MS. As a featured exhibitor with AwareNow, I had the privilege of participating in this incredible event, which explored how people living with MS can feel better and live better. Connecting with Laura Allen and her dedicated Can Do MS team added another meaningful layer to my experience. Their program wasn’t just informative —it was empowering. It reminded me that while science and research move us forward, so does community and care.

Another memorable moment was rising bright and early to greet the day with Sunrise Yoga, led by Mindy Eisenberg of Yoga Moves MS. This 6 a.m. session brought a peaceful ﬂow to a busy conference. Sharing breath and movement with others in that quiet morning hour was a grounding reminder that healing happens in many forms—and that care can look like science, but it can also look like stillness.

ALLIÉ MCGUIRE AWARENOW CO-FOUNDER & MS ADVOCATE

Written and Narrated by Allié McGuire

https://awarenow.us/podcast/more-than-a-ms-meeting

“While there may not yet be a cure, there is a way forward.”

The 2025 CMSC Annual Meeting wasn’t just about lectures and research updates—it was about moments. There were moments of clarity, of connection, and of collective hope. As someone living with MS, I left Phoenix with something no treatment can provide: the deep knowing that I’m not alone. That none of us are.

While there may not yet be a cure, there is a way forward. And CMSC is committed to that journey—one step, one stretch, one story at a time. ∎

MAYA NANAN FOUNDER OF AUTISM SIBLINGS & FRIENDS NETWORK

TANITH HARDING

THE RAHUL EFFECT A CONVERSATION WITH MAYA KIRTI NANA

Maya Kirti Nanan is a youth leader and autism advocate from Trinidad and Tobago, known for founding the Autism Siblings and Friends Network (ASFN) and Rahul’s Clubhouse - Trinidad and Tobago’s ﬁrst autism-inclusive enrichment centre. Motivated by her younger brother Rahul’s autism diagnosis, Maya has built a movement focused on awareness, inclusion, and empowerment. Through ASFN, she has trained hundreds of youth volunteers and led national advocacy and education initiatives. Rahul’s Clubhouse offers life skills training, therapy, and vocational development to children and adults with autism. Recognised with awards like the Diana Award and the 2023 Commonwealth Young Person of the Year, Maya continues to drive youth-led, community-based solutions for disability inclusion across the region and internationally.

TANITH: Your brother Rahul’s autism diagnosis has been a deﬁning moment in your life. How did that early experience shape your sense of purpose and plant the seeds for your journey as an advocate?

MAYA: Seeing how Rahul, who is nonverbal, was misunderstood, excluded, and underserved by society, I had a ﬁrsthand look at the challenges autistic individuals and their families face in Trinidad and Tobago. ‘GLOBAL GOOD’ EXCLUSIVE COLUMN BY

MAYA NANAN FOUNDER OF AUTISM SIBLINGS & FRIENDS NETWORK

MAYA: (continued) Rather than feeling helpless, I channelled my love for Rahul and turned it into action. I realised that other siblings like me often lacked the tools and support to understand and connect with their autistic family members. This experience gave rise to founding of the Autism Siblings and Friends Network (ASFN) - a youth-led organization built on empathy, awareness, and inclusion. It began as a peer-support space but evolved into a national movement that empowered young people to become allies and advocates for those with autism as well as to create opportunities for autistic persons. My bond with Rahul has become both inspiration and compass, grounding my mission in lived experience. The injustice and social stigma Rahul faced planted a powerful sense of duty for me to be his voice and, more broadly, to build a society where individuals like him are fully accepted, supported, and celebrated. This personal connection is what gives my advocacy work its authenticity, urgency, and heart.

TANITH: You founded the Autism Siblings and Friends Network at just 12 years old — a remarkably young age to take on such leadership. What compelled you to act, and how did you navigate the challenges of being a young change maker in this space?

MAYA: When my younger brother Rahul was diagnosed with autism, I didn’t fully understand what autism was because we were just kids, but I could see how isolated he was, how misunderstood he became, and how difficult it was for my family to find support. As his sister, I felt a deep responsibility to do something. I didn’t want to just sit back and watch him be excluded from the world around him. I wanted to create a space where people like Rahul were accepted, supported, and included and where siblings like me could learn, connect, and make a difference too. That’s what led me to start the Autism Siblings and Friends Network (ASFN). At first, it was just a small group of my cousins and friends who wanted to help. But over time, it grew into a youth-led movement focused on education, inclusion, and empowerment. We are the only youth-led organisation in Trinidad and Tobago which focuses on one main cause. Being so young, I faced challenges some adults didn’t take me seriously, and I had to learn how to lead while still being a student myself. But I stayed focused on my “why” - Rahul. His journey gave me strength and purpose. I leaned on mentors, asked questions, and learned along the way. I realised that age doesn’t define impact, commitment, and compassion do.

TANITH: Autism often comes with misunderstanding and stigma — in your experience, how have you seen it ‘mark’ individuals, families, or even entire communities? And how does your work aim to rewrite that narrative?

MAYA: I’ve seen firsthand how autism is often surrounded by misunderstanding and stigma, especially because people lack knowledge and awareness. Too often, individuals with autism are labelled as “difficult,” “spoiled,” or “not normal.” Families, including my own, have faced judgment in public spaces, people staring, whispering, or offering unkind advice when Rahul would behave in ways they didn’t understand. That kind of stigma doesn’t just isolate the individual; it isolates the entire family. It creates fear, shame, and silence when what’s really needed is support, education, and empathy. Through my work with ASFN and Rahul’s Clubhouse, I’ve been focused on changing that narrative. We create safe, inclusive spaces where autistic individuals are not just accepted, but celebrated. We train young people to become allies and advocates, we educate communities to replace judgment with understanding, and we give families the tools and confidence to embrace their journeys. My goal is to help people see the beauty, value, and potential in every autistic person to move from stigma to solidarity. In hope that once you know better, you do better.

TANITH: From Rahul’s Clubhouse to your volunteer training initiatives, you’ve created tangible spaces for belonging and inclusion. What does true inclusion look like to you, and what barriers still need to be dismantled to achieve it?

MAYA: To me, true inclusion means creating environments where everyone, not just some, is welcomed, valued, and empowered to thrive exactly as they are. It’s not just about inviting someone into a space, but making sure that space is designed with them in mind. At Rahul’s Clubhouse, for example, we didn’t just build a centre and add a few sensoryfriendly elements. We built a space from the ground up where autistic individuals feel safe, understood, and capable of reaching their full potential. To me, that is what inclusion means: belonging without having to change who you are. But we still have a long way to go. Many of the systems in place, such as education, employment, and healthcare, aren’t built to support people with different needs. There’s a lack of accessible resources, trained professionals, and policy-level commitment. Social stigma is still a huge barrier, too. That’s why our volunteer training is so important: we’re creating a culture of empathy and awareness, starting with young people. To truly achieve inclusion, we need to dismantle the idea that difference is a disadvantage. We need to listen, adapt, and build systems that honour every individual’s worth. Inclusion isn’t a checkbox, it’s a mindset, a commitment, and a continuous journey.

TANITH: Carrying a mission so deeply tied to your personal life can be both powerful and heavy. How do you stay grounded and inspired while balancing advocacy, leadership, and the emotional toll that comes with it?

MAYA: Carrying a mission that’s so personal, so deeply tied to my love for Rahul, can definitely feel heavy at times. There are moments when the emotional toll is real, especially when I see how much still needs to change or when families come to us completely overwhelmed. But what keeps me grounded is knowing why I do this. Rahul is my heart, and every step I take in this work is for him and others like him. That purpose keeps me focused and reminds me that even on hard days, the work matters. From a young age, I’ve always been involved in extracurricular activities, whether it was school clubs, volunteer groups, or sporting activities, so balancing multiple responsibilities became second nature to me. Advocacy just became part of my routine, something that blended into school life, friendships, and even how I spent my weekends. I’ve learned how to set boundaries, take breaks when I need them, and surround myself with a support system of people who understand the mission and share the load. Most of all, I stay inspired by the progress we’ve made, watching a child light up at Rahul’s Clubhouse, seeing a volunteer become a passionate advocate, and even choosing a career path that stems from their passion in volunteering with us, or hearing a parent say they finally feel seen. Those moments remind me that change is happening, and it’s worth every effort.

TANITH: Your story is proof that being ‘marked’ by a personal experience can spark widespread change. What message would you like to leave with young people who feel different, misunderstood, or defined by a single part of who they are?

MAYA: I want young people who feel different or misunderstood to know that being marked by something in your life doesn’t have to hold you back, it can actually be your greatest strength. For me, growing up with Rahul’s autism diagnosis shaped who I am, but it never limited me. Instead, it opened my eyes to the importance of empathy, patience, and kindness. What I’d tell any young person who feels different or misunderstood is this: you are not broken. You’re not too much or too little — you are exactly who you’re meant to be. Your story, no matter how challenging, has value. You don’t have to wait until you’re older, or more confident, or “ready.” You just have to start. And while it might feel overwhelming, remember this: being a kind human being is more than enough. Kindness opens doors, builds trust, and inspires people. Lead with that. Let your compassion be your strength. Be a kind human being. Kindness is powerful. It breaks down walls, changes hearts, and builds bridges where there once were divides. You don’t need to be perfect or have everything figured out to make a difference. Just show up with an open heart and a willingness to listen and care. Remember, your story matters. Your voice matters. And by embracing who you truly are with all your unique experiences, you have the power to create real, meaningful change. So don’t be afraid to stand tall, be proud, and let your kindness shine. You don’t have to change who you are to change the world. In fact, the world needs more people who are willing to be real, to care deeply, and to turn their own experiences into hope for others. So take up space. Use your voice. And know that what makes you different might just be your greatest gift. ∎

Tanith is leading change management through commitment to the RoundTable Global Four Global Goals of: Educational Reform, Environmental Rejuvenation, Empowerment for All & Creativity. She delivers innovative and transformational leadership and development programmes in over 30 different countries and is also lead on the international development of philanthropic programmes and projects. This includes working with a growing team of extraordinary Global Change Ambassadors and putting together the Global Youth Awards which celebrate the amazing things our young people are doing to change the world. Find & follow Maya on Instagram: @maya_nanan Also follow Support Autism T&T: @supportautismtt

Director of International Development, The Legacy Project, RoundTable Global www.awarenowmedia.com/tanith-harding

TANITH HARDING