Extended Vacation

The month of me was spectacular, perhaps a bit too good since it translated into my extended vacation from blogging and writing anything beyond my research for graduate school. Actually, the real excuse is a heavy paper dealing with ethics in the making, valuation, and sale of art. This is a subject which brings up horrible memories of a controversial time at Randolph College. I have been reticent to say anything about it for reasons I won't go into here. Suffice it to say, it has been a difficult, complex, and heart wrenching task of reliving an unpleasant past. Although the writing of it is important to my graduate work, and I would not shirk its necessity, it has taken a bit of the joy out of writing for me in the process. Now that the semester is over, and the initial draft is complete, I begin to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Perhaps when I finish my paper, I'll be less cryptic and share my feelings on the events and the subject here. Right now, I am ready to walk away from the whole thing and enjoy my extended vacation. On that note, I leave today for a cruise of the Caribbean. Woohoo!

Anyway, instead of talking about ethics, the environment, and art, lets talk about me. Specifically, the month of me. I promised I would tell you all about it, and then I got selfish and took several months off. I am prone to selfish acts. I'll admit it. Anyway, the month of me was spectacular and I think I may have had the best fortieth birthday of anyone on record in the history of humanity. I'm not even sure I remember everything I did during the month, but the highlights were exceptional.


I started out with a trip to Washington, D.C. to visit the National Gallery and the Hirshorne museum. We stayed at the Marriott Courtyard right beside the National Portrait Gallery. Apart from the typical frustration of driving in the convoluted streets of that city and the ridiculous cost of parking, we had a fabulous time walking the streets, enjoying art, eating great food. I got spectacular photos. My favorite is of the amazing sculpture pictured above by Ron Mueck at the Hirshorne and the New York fan who was equally awed by it.

Next was the highlight of my month, Shakori Hills music festival and an entire weekend with many of my dearest friends camping, enjoying and making music, and dancing till our feet ached. My lovely zoo peeps all came out to help me celebrate, as did my partner in crime and art making, Terri, who drove all the way from Lynchburg with an injured back to join the mayhem. She was a great sport! Nikki baked me a cow cake which made me laugh and laugh. Another story for another time. Pete dressed me up like a princess in tiara and jewels, to which Terri added a really cool scepter that lit up and played magical sounds. We sat around camp fires, listened to fantastic music and generally laughed until our sides ached.

But, I haven't even gotten started. My dear friends Kimmy and David cooked up some serious surprises for me along with the rest of my friends in Donna the Buffalo, the best band in the world. So, not only did they bring me fun decorations for the campsite and lovely gifts both in the bag and in their presence, they also had my favorite songs added to the Saturday night set list, dedicated a special version of my all-time favorite song, Conscious Evolution, to me and had my all-time favorite guitarist, Jeb Puryear, wish me a happy birthday, not once, but twice during the show. Wow! I was really floored. Now, you'd think the month of me would end there. I mean, how much more fun can one girl have? Oh, I haven't even gotten started.

After Donna ended what I now think of as my birthday set, we all waltzed on over to the dance tent to dance for several more hours to my second favorite band in the whole world, The Duhks. Maybe it was just the rosy glow of my party, although I really didn't drink that much, so I don't think so, but I feel like that particular set was one of the best I have seen by this talented band. I lost my magical scepter at some point during the show, but the magic seemed to stay with me regardless.

After, Leonard and several of my friends in the band hung out and closed down the dance tent. Then Christian, the drummer, David, and Kimmy and I ended up finished out to rest of the night, literally, laughing until the sun came up over at their campsite. I'm fairly certain the laughter alone lifted several years off my life. So, my actual birthday party ended with three dear friends and partners in mayhem watching the sun come up over the sheep field and wondering at the manliness of those big-boy sheep. They are really quite spectacular in ways we shouldn't discuss here.

As it turns out, the scepter went on to have its own fabulous party and found the perfect home away from me. Apparently, my friend Kath's daughters found it and had all kinds of fun playing with it until they tried brandishing it over the guy in the chicken suit who drives the hay ride tractors around the park. I guess they were trying to turn him into a frog. It didn't work, but he ended up with the magical instrument of birthday power and carried it around the rest of the weekend threatening the unruly children with it. I kept hearing the squeals of delight that followed it's funny electronic sounds, and I figured it was right where it belonged, spreading the magic of joy and laughter throughout the park.

But, fear not. I was still not without its magical powers because the magical fun did not end with the party, as one might expect. No the next day, after one short hour of sleep, as the campers began to rise from their warm sleeping bags, I woke unable to fall back to sleep. Feeling bleary, I opted for a shower and some coffee. So, I dragged myself out of bed, and took care of business. Once I had coffee in hand, I was beginning to feel mildly human again as the sounds of Keith Secola drifted across the main stage field with the unmistakable guitar riffs of Jeb Puryear wandering along the scale. Like a bee to honey, I followed the music and stood near the stage drinking in the sounds, letting the music wake me up.

Perhaps five minutes passed before I was being pulled by one of my herd friends, Gail, towards the stage steps, and led right up onto the stage to become one of the fry bread backup singers for the band. Suddenly, I am on stage directly in front of Jeb with a microphone in front of me singing. How did this happen? I had to laugh. So, I sang along, and danced and generally tried to make myself smaller since I figured most people would rather see Jeb play his guitar than me dancing around and pretending to be a professional singer. Still, it was amazing, a new perspective on the festival and perhaps one of the most fun things I've ever done at Shakori Hills. Thanks Keith. If you ever need a full-time singer, look me up.

Oh, and I cannot forget to mention the best dancing at Shakori every year in the dance tent when Preston Frank takes the stage. That man knows how to play some Zydeco. Put him together with Donna the Buffalo as his band, and you have some of the finest dance music ever played. So, we danced and we danced and we danced for the rest of the day.

Although the weekend was swiftly drawing to a close, I still had one more wonderful thing to come. David's son Riley, who is twelve, decided he wanted to play the drums with his dad's band for the first time during the Friends of Donna the Buffalo ritual closing concert of the festival. Can I tell you, he rocked the house. The musical talent in that family will indeed live on in Riley McCracken. I'm personally looking forward to many years as one of his groupies. We were all very impressed, including Tara, and I get the sense she does not impress easily. Christian Dugas of the Duhks also sang a lovely ballad, but not from his comfort zone behind the drums, but rather in front of the band. Although he seemed a bit nervous about it before the fact, he was impressively composed onstage and sang a hauntingly lovely song for the crowd. It was a spectacular birthday party to be sure. Thanks go out to all my fabulous friends and family who made my birthday one to remember. I love you all!


Photos appear courtesy of Bill Davis. Thanks Bill!

Floyd Fest 2009 Journal

For the past five years, my girlfriends (often referred to as the peeps) and I have headed up to the mountains of Floyd, Virginia for the Floyd Fest, a wonderful festival featuring music from around the world. It was a memorable Floyd Fest two year ago that first introduced me to Xaviar Rudd. Every year, they manage to introduce us to at least one fabulous new musician a year. This year's new band was The Belleville Outfit.

Anyway, we rent a cabin from the Wades, friends of my family. The cabin is just eight miles from the festival ground and right off the Blue Ridge Parkway. I didn't realize how much that place means to me until I pulled into the drive this year and felt the stress just melt off my bones. I guess it's the quiet, or maybe I just enjoy the fresh, cool mountain air, a welcome change from the heat of July here in the Lynchburg valley. It's almost sacred, this ritual of ours to attend the festival every year. When any of the girls cannot make it, even for a day, there is no measure to the amount of grief one might get from the rest of the group unless they can produce a really good excuse. Work simply doesn't cut it.


No matter how tight the money is, how busy the life is, how much craziness is going on in our lives, we would not any of us dream of missing this annual event. Even if we can only squeeze in one day, we all look forward to Floyd Fest for the whole year, and on the last day of the festival each year, we sit at Chateau Morisette on the terrace sipping wine and trying to put off the inevitable drive back to our respective lives, because none of us wants the weekend end.


This year's Floyd Fest was a real treat for me, even more than usual. Having just lived through the busiest July pet sitting season on record, where I had literally worked from dawn until midnight almost everyday without a day off for weeks on end, I so needed a break. Driving up to Floyd on the parkway at night on Wednesday was not the brightest idea, since the darkness is all consuming when there are clouds in the sky, but I could not bring myself to stay home one second longer. I left right after the last pet sitting gig was finished and met my friend Nikki a day early so we could be at the festival bright in the morning to set up our day tent in prime real estate.


Last year, we had to plunk our tent down in the middle of a poison ivy patch on a fairly steep hill because we got to the festival late on Thursday and the good spots were already taken. This year, we made sure that didn't happen again and our tent was right where we like it, just behind the dance tent in the middle of all the best music stages and not too far from the beer garden. Some crazy person put a blow-up monkey in the tree near our camp, and we affectionately named him "Shock." He made finding the tent fairly easy.

After five years of attending the festival for fun, this year was also a little bit of a working vacation, although it didn't seem like work at all. If you've been following me or know me at all, you know that I write regularly for Got2BeGreen online journal. This year, they offered to send me to the festival as a representative of the press, asking if I had any musicians I wanted to interview for the journal. Did I ever have musicians I wanted to interview! This year's Floyd had quite a lineup, including Donna the Buffalo, my favorite band of all time, The Duhks who run a close second, and The Horse Flies who make my top ten list, not to mention Toubab Krew, and The Blues Traveler, and many, many more. So, of course I said yes to my editors and agreed to go as a representative for their company, even though this meant I had to behave myself. I wanted interviews with Donna the Buffalo and The Duhks in particular, but also with Blues Traveler. Although I figured I'd get to talk to a few people, I never dreamed I would get to meet almost everyone on my top list of performers and many, many more.


Having been friends for some time with David McCracken, keyboardist for Donna the Buffalo, and having cruised the Caribbean with the band, I was fairly sure they would agree to speak with me. But, they were even cooler than I expected. David took me right up onto their bus and the majority of the band was there. I enjoyed chatting with he and his son Riley, and Vic Stafford, the band's drummer. They made me feel right at home in their little traveling world and I was absolutely thrilled. I can tell David thinks it's kind of funny how star struck I am over his band. It's just that they are the first band I ever loved enough to follow around the country. I'd even follow them around the world. They are also the first band that has taken me in, the first band I've ever been able to mingle with comfortably. It's been a real treat.

Now, having David as an official band member makes it even more exciting to be a screaming girl in the front row at one of their shows. I scream regularly with David's girlfriend Kimmy and the peeps while he laughs at our silliness. I know I've said it before, but I'll just say again! You should never pass up any opportunity to hear this amazing band live and meet the wonderful "herd" of followers who travel with them. After eight years, I still look forward to every show and I am never let down.


This year, during their one and only set at the festival, the bottom literally fell out of the sky just as the band started to play "40 Days and 40 Nights." The rain fell as the band got to the line that said "it rained and rained just like cats and dogs." Even with the water soaking their instruments, they never missed a note and they played on through a great rendition of "Mystic Waters" while the storm had it's fast and furious rage with us. Rain was pouring right onto the stage at a slant, slapping the band in the face, dripping from Jeb's hat while the symbols sent sprays out each time Vic hit them. By the end of the second song, however, they seemed to bring back the sun, and they were even graced with a rainbow behind the stage for all their hard work. After taking only a few moments to swap the no longer working keyboards with some from back stage, towel off the guitars and drums, and change a couple of shirts, the show went on without blinking an eye. How many other bands have you seen pull that off? It was amazing. The crowd went wild, and the show went into my memory banks as one of the best I've ever experienced. I really hope David's keyboards lived beyond the soaking. I have yet to hear from him on that.

Not only did Donna the Buffalo welcome me into their midst after the show, but so too did the Duhks. I met Leonard, singer/songwriter and banjo player extraordinaire, some years ago at Shakori Hills before they were grammy nominees, and I've made every Duhks show I could manage since that day. Even though several members of the band have changed, the music just keeps getting better and better. This year, Leonard hooked me up with Tania Elizabeth, the band's superbly talented fiddler and singer, to talk about their GreenDuhks project. Having just met me minutes before, Tania invited me to join her in the dinner tent, where I had the pleasure of also meeting Sarah Dugas, the band's lead singer, as well. They were both so nice about allowing me to intrude on their down time, and Tania agreed to find a quiet spot and give me a formal interview about all of the wonderful things she has been doing to promote healthy living on the road for the band and other musicians, and all the ways they are trying to engage their fans about living green during their shows. She truly is leading by example, giving me yet another reason to love this talented group of musicians.

And if that weren't enough, The Horse Flies came down from New York to join the Floyd Fest this year. They had not been touring outside New York much until a few months ago when they joined us at Shakori Hills, and I got my first chance to experience their music live. Many members of the herd have shared their music with me over the years. They kept telling me I needed to hear this band and their hard to define mix of sounds, but since the band lost their bass player six years ago (he passed away), the band had not been traveling outside of New York, or even performing together that I know of, and I had resigned myself to making do with the few songs I already owned on mixed cds. But, apparently they have found new life and have added a few new band members, and they are back out on the road spreading their sound around again.


Riding on my previous success with the bands my friends play in, I got the courage to ask Judy, the Horse Flies fiddler, if she would be willing to talk with me. Not only did I get to speak with her, but the whole band joined in and they even signed my new CD while they were at it. The only one missing was Taka, their djembe drummer. All in all, it really was a dream come true to be able to walk right up and chat with some of the most talented musicians of my time. I'm not sure why I felt I couldn't before, since I keep finding them all to be normal people with the good fortune to have found and cultivated their exceptional gifts. There really is no reason they can't be spoken to like any other human, but somehow they have all seemed unapproachable until I had the good fortune to make friends with several of them along the way. The official press badge didn't hurt either, adding that extra confidence booster I needed. Although the festival never really offered me any assistance besides the badge and a last minute email about parking. It seems I may have fallen between the cracks this year, so I cannot thank both my cool editors at Got2BeGreen and Svetlana at Floyd Fest, who scrambled to find me my (presumably) lost press pass at the last minute. Thanks to all of you for helping to make a real dream come true for me this weekend. Make sure to check out Got2BeGreen over the next couple of weeks for interviews with the bands.

The only band I could not even get within spitting distance of was Blues Traveler. They pulled the big star routine, having bouncers who would not even let me walk past their bus to get into the VIP tent, where I was actually headed to meet David and Kimmy after the show. These big burly guys in black t-shirts made me walk around the long way, as if I was going to pull the whole groupie routine and throw myself on the band screaming. As much as I would have loved to chat with any of them, the stupid groupie routine really isn't my style any more. Prehaps twenty years ago...Okay, I'll admit it, I did throw myself at David Lee Roth back when I was a teenager. He was really tolerant and kissed my cheek, and I was never going to wash it again. Now, I'm more than a bit embarrassed by the whole thing. What was I thinking being in love with him anyway? Oh, how I loved the hair bands back then. What can I say, I was young. I'm well over those days, well beyond acting too completely retarded in front of the rich and famous, no matter who they are. I could probably even restrain my baser impulses around Bruce Springsteen if I needed to. Well, at least I think I could.

Now, after meeting many musicians from all over the world, playing in so many different genres, people like Xaviar Rudd, Nawal, The Uppity Blues Women, Railroad Earth, Allison Krauss, and Kathy Mattea, not to mention Sarah Dugas and Vic Stafford pictured here, and so far finding most of them down to earth and completely approachable, I was not at all impressed with the Blues Traveler's big shot routine. There really is no need to pull out the "look how big my star is."

My girlfriend Serena, the master of the scam (and I mean that in the most affectionate and positive way, since I've always wished I had even one tenth of her nerves of steel when it comes to dealing with the world), offered to scam our way onto the Blues Traveler bus, and I have no doubt if she put her mind to it, she would have gotten us there, but in the end I really didn't want to go. After all the fabulous fun I had talking to almost every other musician at the festival, I decided I'd rather not have to scam my way into some star's presence when so many are perfectly willing to be approached just like every other human being. I think I'd rather just view it as their loss. They missed a wonderful opportunity to meet me. Too bad for them.

All photos were provided by Amanda C. Sandos or Kimmy Tiedemann.

Mountain Aid at Shakori Hills

Last Saturday, my mom and I met Kathy Mattea at the Mountain Aid benefit concert on Shakori Hills farm in Silk Hope, North Carolina. We went to the show because it was a good cause, and also because my friend, David McCracken was playing with my favorite band Donna the Buffalo at the end of the evening. Mom hadn't met David and his other half, Kimmy, and we wanted to remedy that. What better time than at a benefit concert to stop injustice. Anyway, before last weekend, had you asked if I was a fan of Kathy Mattea, I would have said, "Sure, I liked that song about the Grandparents. What was that again?"

Ask me now, I'll tell you that woman is amazing. What a voice. Her deep, alto sound is one you can't mistake, plus she really puts her heart and soul into it and transfers that onto the crowd. Several grown men stood around the field and cried during a few of the sad songs. But, she also pulled me out of my chair several times, because my feet just wouldn't stay still. Her Americana music is a little bit country, a little bit folk, bluegrass, and let's not forget a touch of the Irish, thanks to her fiddle/mandolin player and her own talent on the piccolo and penny whistles. I had no idea.

What a personality. Kathy is down to earth, very caring, an open and giving person. One might think this is just how she makes herself appear onstage, but behind the scenes she was equally open. She spoke to fans who approached her by name, remembered them and their situations, particularly those she was donating her time to help, and she took the time to chat with them, giving of herself with each conversation. When we approached Kathy, she was perfectly willing to share her own situation about her mother's Alzheimer when mom explained how "Where Have You Been" made her cry. My Gramma suffers from severe dementia and often does not remember us, either.

But, what impressed me most about Kathy was her willingness to donate so much of her time and talent to Mountain Aid, a cause that is not yet well known. It's an attempt to educate people on the effects of mountain top removal and its consequences and raise money to help those struggling to survive life in these mountains. Kathy is from West Virginia, and she very much wants to help people all over her home state and the surrounding states to cope with the destruction created by the coal mining industry, where homes are destroyed, their foundations cracked and crumbled by the blasts, where water is turned black from contamination, and so much more. These mining companies even have the nerve to dump toxic waste directly behind an elementary school. The money from Saturday's concert went towards helping the children of that school. More on this shortly at Got2BeGreen. In the meantime, you should visit here.

On a happier note, the big surprise of the day was Ben Sollee. He walked out on stage, just him and his cello, and I thought, "Oh, boy. Time to sleep." Classical music always does this to me. Not that I don't enjoy it, mind you. But, classical was not what Ben played. Well, he broke out some of it, combined it with his own style, a funky rhythmic sound, sort of like electric guitar. Sounds you had no idea a cello could make. His performance reminded me very much of the first time I saw Xaviar Rudd at Floyd Fest. He, too, walked out on stage alone with his funky didgeridoos, at the time I had no idea what they even were, and literally blew us away with his talent. By the end of the festival, everyone was lined up buying everything he was selling. The same can be said of Ben Sollee. People were even buying his vinyl albums. Yes, I typed that right. The guy likes vinyl. However, if you don't have an old school player, not to worry. He also has a CD for sale on his website. I highly recommend it. As my friend Cheryl kept saying, his music will give you goose bumps. Jessica thinks he's the next Bob Dylan. I don't know if I'd take it that far, since there can be no one equal to Bob in my book, but you get what I'm trying to say.

Last, but so not least, the night ended with my all time favorite band, Donna the Buffalo. Every good concert should close with their funky beat. How great is a band that can make people as varied as the two-year-old toddlers I saw dancing in the field all the way up to people my Mom's age dance together until their feet ache with big sloppy grins on their faces. As usual, the funky mix of zydeco, folk, country, and rock got the people moving. If you have not "herd" them, you really should give them a listen. But, to get the full impact, you must see them live somewhere, preferably at a Grassroots Festival near you.

The evening was topped by Kathy Mattea's return to the stage for an encore with Donna the Buffalo. Apparently, Tara Nevins approached her bus and convinced her to come out in her pjs and sing one more song. Kathy, who had just turned fifty at the stroke of midnight, and let me tell you doesn't look a day over forty, was happy to sing one more impromptu number with the band, even joking about being willing to come onstage without her bra. They sounded amazing together, Tara's distinct higher voice was lovely harmonizing above Kathy's gravelly alto. All in all, it was a night for the scrap books. Thanks to all who came out and played, donated their time and talent to such a great cause, and entertained us for the weekend. Thanks to Shakori Hills for hosting the event. And as usual, thanks to Donna the Buffalo for bringing their music and their wonderful herd of friends into my life.

All photos, blurry as they may be, were provided by Amanda C. Sandos

The Power of Grassroots

Environmental education has been my passion for many reasons, but I’ll admit I focused on animals because I’ve been cynical about humans, feeling they have few redeeming qualities any more. But, over the past few years I’ve begun to have hope in humanity again. I see the extraordinary things a small group of people can accomplish when they forget their differences and come together for the good of their community. It’s called Grassroots, and it’s sweeping the nation. Perhaps one of the best examples of a Grassroots movement started with the band Donna the Buffalo and their eclectic “Herd” of followers.

If you have not heard Donna the Buffalo’s funky mix of purely danceable music, you should go to http://www.donnathebuffalo.com/ and give them a listen. Make sure you pay attention to the lyrics along with the superb music to get a sense of the positive messages of talented songwriters Jeb Puryear and Terra Nevins. They find a way to mix deep emotional topics like social and political justice and environmental awareness with a sound and rhythm that stimulates movement and an overwhelming sense of joy in their listeners. To really understand their feel good vibe, you must experience them at a live performance, preferably bouncing up and down with the rest of the Herd near the stage. This diverse group of fans are loving people spanning all races, ages, and backgrounds, and are always ready with a smile and a hug, not only for friends, but also for every new face that taps a toe with them.

But, what can a band "on the funky side" and a motley group of hippies really do to make a difference? Well, here’s where you’d be surprised. This particular Grassroots movement started very small, with one show in Ithaca, New York to raise money for local AIDS organizations. Members of the band were excited by the success of the show and decided they wanted to continue the fundraising effort for other worthy causes. They created the Grassroots Music Festival every July in Trumansburg, New York. Eventually, the Herd grew until they added a second bi-annual festival called Shakori Hills in Silk Hope, North Carolina every April and October. Since then, they have expanded into a nationally recognized effort that also promotes other Grassroots festivals all over the country. They have raised funds for disaster relief and others in need of assistance, social justice, political activism, environmental conservation, and green living, to name a few. They have accomplished all of this while at the same time providing exposure to local, regional, national, and international cultures through music and the arts. In short, they offer a great time, a way to relax and enjoy living, while you learn and grow.

My first exposure to Donna the Buffalo was at a small club called Ziggy’s in Winston Salem. I was instantly addicted to the sound and bought every CD I could get my hand on, and I’ve attended every Shakori Hills Music Festival. My favorite aspect of Shakori Hills is, of course, their campaign for green living. They offer recycling and composting and teach attendees about proper recycling methods. They provide a bio-diesel shuttle bus to the festival from a number of local towns and cities, and promote car pooling by offering any car arriving with four or more passengers free parking. Areas of the large property have been designated “Natural Preserves” where no camping is allowed. Festival organizers regularly announce ways everyone can pitch in to help the local environment.

Rather than selling bottled water for a profit, Shakori Hills offers a large filtering truck to refill and reuse bottles for an honorary donation. Food vendors offer organic and healthy food choices and serve on recyclable materials as much as possible. It is not uncommon to hear adults remind their children to take only one napkin rather than a handful from the food stands or to see children picking up trash and recyclables around the park. The festival even provides a Sustainability Fair throughout the weekend with environmental education talks and activities, and a number of healing arts providers are on hand to teach all manner of exercise and healthy living techniques.

The latest project this wonderful group of people has started is the Solarize Shakori Hills Project, a fundraising campaign to purchase solar panels for the festival. At $10.00 per cell, they have already sold $3000 last weekend alone and by next year the festival will be a solar powered event. (For information on how you can help, email tami@blast.com )Even some of the other regular performers are promoting sustainability. Grammy Award Nominees The Duhks announced that their latest CD is packaged with recycled materials and soy based inks.

The Herd doesn’t stop their charitable giving at the festivals alone, however. They have created their own “Side to Side Charities” and have raised tens of thousands of dollars for community services to feed the hungry, house the homeless, empower women, end racism, serve children in need and with special needs, save homeless pets, and provide goods and services to low income families. They will literally give you the shirts off their backs. A large collection of donated clothing can be found at every festival and is free to anyone who needs them.

How are they inspired? By listening to the music of Donna the Buffalo, and by watching the band and their fellow Herders walk the walk and talk the talk for change. Now, we finally begin to see Grassroots movements taking center stage with the largest effort of its kind entering our political realm this Presidential election, and it’s about time. Although I’ve been an advocate for environmental change for as long as I can remember, the Herd has taught me to give back to my community in other ways, as well. I now volunteer for local arts organizations, give time and money to The Campaign for Change, and work with organizations like the YWCA YGyrl leaders teaching girls about Leadership and Community Services.

I attend every Donna the Buffalo show I can afford. Why? Because I come away refreshed, renewed, and reminded that humans are a wonderful species capable of great kindness, giving, and love, and an inherent goodness. I am reminded that there is a great power in every small community, and every grassroots effort, no matter how small, has the potential to change the world.