Despite being the Benefit Coordinator, 90% of the time I never meet people who plan benefits for TWLOHA. But sometimes I do. As I stepped off the plane at Cincinnati Airport (which is in Kentucky, I discovered), I was very excited for the chance to visit 2 new states, our fall intern Lindsey who helped with the event, and also for the rare opportunity to meet the benefit organizers of Fashion for the Cure.

Fashion for the Cure is an annual fashion show at a high school in Cincinnati, Ohio. It was in its sixth year of existence, but this year is the first time it benefited  TWLOHA along with the local chapter of American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

I first got an email from Tricia, one of the co-organizers, way back in July 2011 and was immediately blown away by the level of advance planning and her attention to detail. After corresponding with their advisor quite a few times, we set the plan for my arrival. Months later, the day was finally here.

We arrived at the school around 3p.m., giving us 3 hours of set up time before the doors opened. The raffles were set up, decorations were hung, and there was a nervous but good energy throughout the room and the planning team. I noticed the banners -- quotes from our vision, displayed for all to see. “The vision is hope, and hope is real.” I was inspired by how clearly these girls and the parent volunteers embodied that message. They were fighting to spread hope and to break the silence that surrounded suicide at their school.

Standing in the room setting up our table, I was struck by the memory of the first experience that set me on the path that led me to this moment. Haley and Tricia reminded me of me -- when I was in high school, I was on the executive team for planning a similar benefit to spread hope in a different way.

Almost exactly 5 years later, I still clearly remember setting up for that event, all the hours upon hours of time that went into preparations and details. At 17, I had the privilege of sharing a positive message with my community, and now I had the experience of watching a new generation of high school seniors do the same. There are a lot of people who don’t take high school students seriously, but I can tell you first-hand that Fashion for the Cure is just one example of the many, many wonderful events I’ve seen planned primarily by high school students. I am impressed every single time.

There were over 500 people at Fashion for the Cure that night. It was by far the largest and most profitable benefit ever hosted for TWLOHA, raising more than $25,000 in just one night, half going to TWLOHA and the other half to AFSP. Regardless of the numbers, the thing I was most impressed with was the speech given by one of the students.

He just got up on stage in front of all those people and told his story, honest and true. He had struggled with suicide and many other things, he said, eventually spending six months in an in-patient treatment facility. He was fortunate, he noted, to have had the support of his parents, counselors, and friends; not everyone is that lucky, he told us, which is why it was important to talk about these issues and let people know that hope and help are real. Nothing I said that night, nothing the AFSP psychiatrist said, could have possibly been more powerful and important than what this young guy in high school said. I didn’t get the chance to meet him, but I am truly privileged to have been in that room and heard his words.

Supporter hosted benefits like Fashion for the Cure financially support the other programs of TWLOHA, while also bringing awareness to communities throughout the country and throughout the world. They’ve taken the shape of fashion shows, concerts, art exhibits, 5K Walk/Runs, penny drives, friendship bracelet sales, bake sales, and more. I’ve had the honor of working with more than 117 organizers and their benefits since I started at TWLOHA part-time just over a year ago, with another 20 or so in the works right now.

Every day I hear the most amazing stories of why people have chosen to begin to fundraise for us and why it’s important to them that the message of hope reach their community. If you’re thinking about hosting a benefit for TWLOHA, or want more information, I’d love to hear from you, too! Please email benefit@twloha.com, and tell me what you're thinking, how you want to bring our story to your community. We list all events on our Events to Benefit TWLOHA page on Facebook -- come “like” us to find out about upcoming benefits in your area!

Five years ago, running around organizing my own fundraiser as a high school student, I never thought that one event would bring my heart so close to fundraising and event planning that it became my job. Consider hosting a benefit and maybe you’ll surprise yourself, too.

With Love,
Danielle

Comments (2) | Posted in General, Journal by Danielle Cantarella

I am a New Yorker, and I’ve spent the better part of 10 years avoiding the memory of 9/11/01. The weight of something so monumental was too much for me at the time; I was in 7th grade, and I didn’t understand. I was the first one pulled out of my school, but I was confused—I didn’t know anyone who worked there, so why was I leaving?  I was home before the second plane hit; I began to understand the “what” but not the “why.” As was the case with many that day, my parents had trouble getting home, so I stayed with a neighbor until they did, watching the planes hit again and again and again. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so when you see it a thousand times, does it take a million words to justify it? I don’t think any amount of words, mine or anyone else’s, can make the weight of this day disappear, but I promised myself that this year I would be honest and say something.

There’s a reason that I didn’t share my fears and dreams for National Suicide Prevention Week with other staff members and our interns. It was hitting too close to one of my fears, and I didn’t know if I could be honest. My fears are somewhat tied to this date, which in the “before” was just another number on a calendar but in the “after” is a reminder of something so much more than that. My fear is that my anxiety will win and that I will be alone in it. I know that not all of my anxiety stemmed from the events of 9/11, but that’s a part of it, and of me. Many people in New York and elsewhere now struggle with depression, anxiety, and PTSD (among other things) as a direct result of 9/11. I don’t want them to be forgotten or alone today either.

I knew this year would be the hardest for me yet, so I decided to fight back the hardest I have and seek treatment. The events of 9/11 were an isolating experience, and while I can only speak for myself, sometimes being numb to it was easiest. I felt so stupid for admitting how hard this is for me, because I felt unworthy of my own feelings. I couldn’t let anyone know I wasn’t okay with it. How could I be so affected by something I didn’t even understand at the time? There are so many people who felt more direct effects, lost parents and children, including many of my friends and neighbors. I come from a community with many firefighters and police officers, heroes. My street is now named for a firefighter lost in the towers, a son of my neighbor; I pass that every day, a silent reminder of what and who are missing. Their families were the ones who hurt, so I couldn’t.

I have a puzzle of the NYC skyline, which was actually given to me after 9/11, but in it, the towers are standing. Every time I tried to put it together, it felt wrong to snap cardboard into place to fill a void, which is actually unable to be filled. Sometimes, I like to think of our stories like puzzles. A lot of puzzles were broken up on that day.  All of our stories connect to each other in strange and sometimes oddly shaped ways. And many people lost pieces of their puzzles on 9/11, but over time, I feel like I’ve collected more and more about these missing pieces. They may not fit perfectly, but every piece of every story I’ve heard about the attacks on 9/11 has become a part of my story, too. And I will carry them with me, because I will not allow anyone to be forgotten. The hope I hold is that stories will be passed down, puzzles with “9/11” shaped pieces will continue to be assembled long after I am gone.

This year, 9/11 is a National Day of Service. I think a powerful way to remember those who were lost is to help others. Reach out a hand to someone you know, or join a community project. Know that you are not alone today. Know that community is out there, whether you live in New York or Washington, D.C. or Pennsylvania or Iowa or Brazil. And whether you will forever remember where you were on 9/11/01 or you are too young to know, make a new memory this year. Find hope in helping others who may just need you to stand there so they feel less alone. Smile at someone on the street; this may seem like a crazy or normal idea depending where you’re from, but for New Yorkers, it is a big deal. Even if that’s all the service you do, I think it will be worth it for you. If we can make this a day in which communities connect over visible or imagined boundaries, we have been a success. I am a New Yorker, and this year, I’ll be out seeking all these things I’ve wished for you. I will always be a New Yorker, and no matter what gets thrown at our city, I believe in the power of hope, community, and love. These things hold strong through all tragedies.

“This, I think, is how people survive: Even when horrible things have been done to us, we can still find gratitude in one another.” – David Levithan

With Hope,
Danielle

Comments (14) | Posted in General by Danielle Cantarella