My heritage is storytelling. This identity was mine long before I claimed it. My grandparents, great aunts and uncles, cousins, parents and friends have entertained tables of loved ones and strangers alike with stories that have become my history. Younger versions of myself rolled eyes at the seemingly relentless re-telling of the same events over and over and over. But by age fourteen, I could perform with expert delivery the story of how my father’s childhood dog, Bananas, stole and ate an entire salami from my grandmother’s kitchen counter. With perfect timing, I would deliver the punchline - all that remained was the metal clip from the end of the sausage that Bananas belched up onto the linoleum kitchen floor - without an ounce of guilt in his puppy dog eyes. 

Bananas ate that salami twenty years before I was born. Yet, it is still my story. It connects me to my identity. It connects me to the Jewish deli my family owned from which that salami came. It connects me to the humor my grandmother managed to find amongst the chaos that was a house with four young boys and a misbehaving dog. It connects me to my truth that I am part of a community that gathers so regularly, I can memorize their stories because they are shared so often. My work as an art therapist is deeply tied to the human desire to share our stories.

 Legacy work is my passion. Following my graduation from NYU’s art therapy master’s program, I moved to Seattle. I opened my life’s book to a crisp, blank page. I began working as an art therapist in a memory care community. My art supply cart became a beacon of connection for the residents. The act of art making was a portal to having their stories and truths heard, seen, and valued. I was promoted to Life Enrichment Director - responsible for the social, cognitive, and emotional care of this community’s residents. I created dozens of innovative, adaptable expressive arts projects whose functions were to document and amplify the stories of the residents. 

 One of my favorite projects was an intergenerational “life advice” calendar. Through Instagram, I had my peers submit questions they’d like to ask an older adult. In weekly group therapy sessions, I would ask the submitted questions to the residents and transcribe their responses. After a couple months of these conversations, I created a wall calendar with the monthly imagery being the proposed question surrounded by the residents’ answers. These calendars were given to the residents’ families as a holiday gift that year - a reminder that their loved ones have lived diverse and meaningful lives and have much wisdom left to share. 

I made the character development choice in my own story to leave the senior living company under which I was employed and start my own business. The fear around whether I could succeed was soothed by the balm of connection I have with the two other co-founders of the Creative Dementia Collective. I am so grateful to be able to share my passion with the dementia community and support people in having their stories heard.

My work is grounded in being an ally to the disability community. Ableism tells us that it is the disease that is responsible for an individual’s struggle to share their stories. Allyship is the responsibility of seeing that false narrative and instead, removing the barriers that make it difficult for those with neurodegenerative diseases to tell their stories. Art therapy is a powerful tool in supporting expression when language and speech aren’t the most accessible forms of communication. 

My lineage of storytellers has brought me to this place. Creative expression enables us to tell our stories and feel seen by, and connected to, humanity. The Creative Dementia Collective is committed to supporting our community in sharing their stories, caring for those we love, and nourishing ourselves in the process.