You’re invited to make a paradigm shift

My approach to teaching and coaching is all about inviting you to make a paradigm shift—moving away from the traditional medical model that focuses on clinical fixes, repairs and cures to a more personally relevant, intersectional, and trauma-informed perspective rooted in the social model of disability. This shift isn't just about changing frameworks; it's about embracing the profound understanding that disability is not a flaw to be fixed but a vital part of human diversity. As Rabbi Dr. Julia Watts Belser beautifully reminds us, our communities are richer and more complete when we recognize and honor the experiences of those living with disabilities. This model encourages us to see disability not as a limitation, but as a powerful lens through which we can understand resilience, creativity, and connection in our shared humanity.

By the time I was 21, I had experienced many kinds of grief

Every loss I endured layered upon the ones before, creating a profound tapestry of grief. For me, dying came before truly living. My journey with loss began early—I had my first two major heart surgeries at just 12 years old. At 18, I met Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, whose presence and wisdom profoundly changed the course of my life. I didn’t know she was famous, she was just an adult who wasn’t afraid of my grief as my mom was dying. By 19, I had lost both of my parents and all of my grandparents. During this time, I also came out as a lesbian, finding community and courage within GLYNY (Gay Lesbian Youth of New York) in Greenwich Village, NY, helping care for the ill men and learning how to be in the midst of the early AIDS crisis. These experiences shaped and politicized my identity and purpose in ways that continue to inform my work today. I graduated college with no one in the stands, and I took my resolve, skills and passions and I moved with 2 cats in a Jeep from New Jersey to San Francisco just in time to experience and lead parts of the response and rescue efforts during the 1989 earthquake and the 1991 Oakland Hills firestorm.

I have created the support I wish I’d had

I am deeply committed to training both trainers and caregivers/parents because I promised myself that no child should have to face what I did alone. I have carefully observed and mindfully crafted workshops, trainings, Grief Support Group Training Manuals and Resource Guides. These resources have successfully empowered professionals and caregivers globally to engage with the important questions, needs, and concerns of disenfranchised groups, including young people, elders, queer individuals, disabled, immigrant newcomers, and grievers of all kinds from traditional death to ambiguous and stigmatized losses of all kinds.

It is possible to grow through trauma

I can’t help but share my energy and personal passion about the relief and exciting opportunity it is to learn about the skill sets that can evolve out of trauma. Post-traumatic growth is real—it’s the positive change that can occur as a result of struggling with highly challenging life circumstances. I am anti-toxic positivity, which is the presumptive approach that a happy, optimistic state across all situations (often to the point where it dismisses real, painful emotions) is the right way for everyone. Instead, I’m all about honest, non-stigmatizing assessments, repetitive hard work, and trying out tools (and making mistakes) in the pursuit of harm reduction, and most importantly, learning what’s truly right for you and those you care for. I believe in facing challenges head-on, with mindfulness and a willingness to learn from each experience.

I’ve worked in disability and grief care for decades

My journey in professional disability work started in the Bay Area, where I had the privilege of being part of the World Institute on Disability during the creation of the ADA. Once again, I was in the right place at the right time and was lucky enough to work with and learn beside some of the great disabled policy leaders including Ed Roberts, Kathy Martinez, and Simi Litvak. After that, I dove even deeper into this work by completing a residency at Alta Bates, Berkeley, where I became an interfaith chaplain. Over the years, I've trained, counseled, and supported adults and children facing life-threatening and terminal illnesses of themselves and their loved ones. My approach is grounded in decades of real-life experience, spiced with perspective and humor, and fueled by a love for creative art modalities. I’m all about sharing resources and tailoring my support to each person’s unique needs, ensuring that their journey is met with compassion, understanding and respect.

I’m a fost-adoptive mom living in a disability centric household

I am the proud mother of two incredible sons, both adopted through the foster care system. They are now navigating their transitional years, and like myself and many others who are neurodivergent and multifaceted, they have taught me more about frustration, success, and the beauty of diverse ways of thinking than I could have ever imagined. Living in multiple households, all centered around the right environments adapted to each of our disabilities, is not just a daily reality for us; it’s a profound part of our pride in our identities. My sons have faced challenges that many cannot fully understand, but they do so with grace and humor.

As someone who also lives with chronic health conditions and acquired disabilities, I am deeply connected to the journey of advocating for disability rights—not just for my sons, but for myself and often for their classmates as well. My household is a living testament to the belief that disability is not something to be feared, pitied, or drudged through, but rather something to be embraced as an integral part of who we are. We navigate the world with the understanding that disability shapes our experiences, but it does not define our worth.

I serve my community as a volunteer

My passion for justice and community engagement finds its way into many corners of my life, from organized efforts to spontaneous acts of giving back. When events like "Clean up the Bay Day" or "Paint a Downtown Mural" come around, you’ll often see my family and me diving in—sleeves rolled up, contributing in whatever way we can. These shared experiences are important to us, grounding our connection to the world around us.

Beyond those larger community events, I have regular volunteer commitments that hold a special place in my heart. For over two years, I’ve been leading a Writing for Wellness group at the Women’s Cancer Resource Center in Berkeley. It’s a space where women come together, not only to explore their stories but also to reflect on their lives in a supportive environment. I witness the power of words to heal and build community every time we meet.

On a different note, I also volunteer at the Oakland Zoo's animal commissary. Preparing food for the animals feels like a quiet, focused contribution to the care of creatures that depend on us. Whether I’m chopping peppers for the elephants or sorting out sweet potatoes for mealworms, there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing that each animal gets exactly what they need.

Additionally, I serve as the lead ritualist and trainer for a Chevra Kadisha in Berkeley. This role involves a sacred responsibility—caring for the deceased with dignity and respect, guiding them from the moment of passing to burial. It’s deeply fulfilling work, not only for the respect it shows to those who have passed but also for the comfort it offers to the living.

I am a quiltmaker and artist

Many arts and mediums have kept me company through the years, though quilting is prominent. Through quilting, I weave together color and imagery in ways that people often find unconventional and surprising.

Over the years, I’ve had the privilege of creating many special quilts for non-profit fundraisers, matching the themes of their organizations to bring added meaning to the pieces. But my favorite quilts to make are always The Community Healing Quilts. Where I get to work with an organization that has rallied together for a healing cause or in response to a tragedy and now they hope to grow.

These Community Healing Quilts are so deeply significant, —they hold the personal stories and memories within each square, made of paint, marker, crayon, glitter and stitches. sometimes I’ve worked with people to create their quilts out of the clothing of loved ones, or with thematic fabrics to their life, transforming something that had one life, into one that lives forever.