As a keynote speaker, Isisara brings her powerful presence, rich, creative content and warm and captivating delivery to engage audiences in an exploration of leadership and personal empowerment.
She uses the principles of business and human potential development to sharpen focus, strengthen execution and enhance peak performance. Her fun and interactive keynote presentations propel people toward action and help forge stronger teams which yield higher results.
You’ve probably seen several different email and social media offers to sign up for a workshop, training or multi-day challenge on crafting your resolutions for 2021.
By all accounts, 2020 was a slog, a disaster, a dumpster fire, the most villainous of years, and there are plenty who’d say they’re glad to put this annus horribilis in our rear view.
Time to ring out the old, bring in the new! What new intentions, goals, projects, habits and accomplishments are on your vision board, wish list, and resolutions for the next 12 months?
Last week I had the great and familiar pleasure of speaking once again to the brave and wonderful women of Count Me In for Women’s Economic Independence. It was a revival for their women’s business pitch competition, and a partnership with the brands Smart & Sexy and Curvy Couture, dispensing $250K in prize money to 19 winners. More than 400 women applied, out of the 2000 plus who clicked on the application, which says a lot about how those who are chosen start by choosing themselves first.
When I was growing up, my mother had three sets of dishes. There was the everyday set, the one for company and Sunday dinners, and the one for very special occasions. In fact, those occasions so special, I can’t recall our ever using them. They weren’t washed. They were dusted. One summer, a couple from “home” (Guyana) was visiting us on a tourist visa of several weeks. The wife made breakfast for her husband one morning and reached for the company dishes.
The transitional nature of death was all around us last week, and I find it liberating. The great Civil Rights champion, Hon. John H. Lewis died Friday evening. Earlier on the same day another movement stalwart, C.T. Vivian passed away. My friend and brother of several decades past in the Moorish Science Temple, Sunni Karnatu-Bey, made his transition earlier last week. And last night I watched the Netflix film The Old Guard, about a small team of warrior immortals, directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood.
The day my daughter and I got tickets to the Broadway play, Hamilton, it was by divine synchronicity. A good friend, who knew I wanted to see it, heard that morning of two other friends who had tickets for that day’s matinee but suddenly could not attend. A couple of texts, a trip to the ATM, a quick handoff at Grand Central Station, a decision for my daughter to skip classes and there we were in our mezzanine seats, lapping up every note.
It was only after a few years of working with a colleague at a D.C. museum that I learned that she is a descendant of Frederick Douglass. It is not something she readily reveals. She shared the fact during her welcome remarks at an event presented by the March on Washington Film Festival (for which I am Artistic Director) and hosted at her venue that featured Daughters of the Movement. The Daughters are the offspring of Harry Belafonte, Diahann Carroll, Malcolm X, Ossie Davis & Ruby Dee, and Bill Lynch.
Adultism – ever heard of it? I hadn’t until a few years ago, when I attended a program by the brilliant facilitator, coach and trainer, Nanci Luna Jimenez. Nanci is a distinctive voice on transformational social justice for individuals and organizations. Over three days of training I got to confront my own biases on racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism, and adultism.
It’s called the Façade Commission – four sculptures at the Fifth Avenue entrance of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Although the four niches were built into the stonework when this entrance was opened in 1902, this is the first time they have actually housed sculptures. These could not have been four timelier, more other worldly and energetically powerful works of art.
All across the country and around the world, things are speeding up. It’s nearly summer. The planet is warming up, budding and blossoming. The season of alphabetically-named tropical storms is brewing. For better or for worse, we are in various stages of emerging from our collective long pause with an overlay of mass protests – long-simmering discontent bursting forth in a deluge of defiance, anger, hope and a persistent demand for change we cannot just feel, but see.
George Floyd is dead. After gasping, multiple times, those words we’ve heard before, “I can’t breathe,” he passed out, his neck mashed under the knee of a peace officer sworn to protect and serve. I can barely breathe myself. And I have few words to add to the many being written in articles and blogs nationwide. Many of them are more eloquent than I. So in lieu of my pontificating, this week I am sharing the writings of two people.
