Jane Parmel is a co-owner of several businesses in Brooklyn, New York, Events by TFL and NY Balloon & Basket Co., both part of Jae Rae Associates, Inc. Jane’s background includes Education, Business Owner (brick & mortar and E-Commerce) and has specialized in Operations Management, Business Strategies, Internet Sales and Marketing, E-Commerce Store Management, and Social Media Coordination. She has a diverse background in Event Management, Corporate Event Coordination, Fund Raising, Community and Religious based committees, Athletic Training, and Research in Women in Sports and Title IX compliance. She is a NYS Certified Teacher (K-12) and Certified Balloon Artist [CBA] through internationally recognized Pioneer Balloon Company; founder of the NYC Balloon Network, a network of Balloon Decorating Professionals in the Greater New York Area where she also was an instructor and coordinated regional events on behalf of the Qualatex Balloon Network. The NY Balloon & Basket Co. was recognized in 2004 as a charter member of a worldwide professional balloon delivery and decor service, Balloonplanet.com. Jane is now focusing on Community Management for Small Buisnesses, concentrating on helping service industry businesses find their niche and grow their business through insight into who their customer base is, how to reach new and old customers, expanding business while consulting on business operations so that a small business has a true coach on their side to manage growth in an fast and ever changing market.
Home page: http://www.avividimagination.com
Posts by Jane Parmel
Science has always led the way to save us, not divide us.
I don’t get it.
I have said this so many times before, but I mean I really don’t understand people’s thinking.
As we have sat through one of the worst periods in our collective history as a WORLD, the divide in this country over vaccinations is mind-boggling.
Conspiracy theories abound and my nephew and I can always go back and forth on the plausibility of any one of them, but when public health and the survival of one’s loved ones is in question, do we really need to keep up an argument as people die?
I love science. In grammar school, as a child, camping and following the Park Rangers and Naturalists all over Emerald Lake State Park in Vermont, whenever there was a salamander to pick-up; I became somewhat of a science geek in high school, service in the Chem Lab (which is funny on many levels as I hated Chemistry); in college, Anatomy & Physiology, Kinesiology and Exercise Science – Professor Carpenter & Professor Acosta and countless others – my love for science culminated in a Bachelor of Science degree and a Master of Science in Physical Education. I taught Physical Education and Health for two years and General Science, Life Science and Earth Science for three more.
I love science.
I TRUST science.
I TRUST medicine.
I TRUST educated professionals. And I don’t care what field they are in. I have been called a “Jane of all Trades” in my lifetime, but I am smart enough to know when I am out of my league – let the professionals handle the tricky stuff. I will learn, study, read, inhale may a science base video, book, TEDx talk and more. But my money is on SCIENCE.
Recently, someone said that the don’t trust Dr. Anthony Fauci – “All he wants to do is be on TV”.
I don’t know about you, but when I’m 80 years old, I would like to look back on the things I have done in my lifetime and career and reflect poetically. I don’t know that I want to be working full throttle at that point in my life and be targeted and bullied by conspiracy theorists, trust-fund-raised-TV-personalities, and certain political figures, not to mention one very agitated pillow salesman and many, many people in the general population. I still have a couple of years before I hit 80 – I’m hoping that retirement might be a possibility for me. But at 80, to think that anyone would be looking to be the target of what this man has become is ridiculous. He is an accomplished, Cornell-educated, award-winning physician with more accomplishments than you can shake a stick at.
We have been through pandemics before – in my lifetime, many that didn’t reach our shores here in America and one that decimated the LGBTQ+ community. I lost an uncle at a very young age to the AIDS crisis in the 1990’s; I lost the opportunity to meet “in-person” a grandfather I didn’t know I had to COVID, two cousins in Europe, a woman whose child I taught years ago who was always the “one you’d know would be at the game – Mets or Cyclones”. I now live worrying day to day for members of my family, my friends, my business connections that are all over the globe. A friend in Brazil, a cousin in Italy, a colleague in the Carolinas…
Makes me think that the vaccine is really a no brainer.
We don’t live in a bubble.
Hence, we really don’t know if getting the shot led to some people becoming ill, some dying. Too many other factors.
We really don’t know if getting the shot will lead to an issue with reproduction. Too many other factors.
We really don’t know because things have happened too fast.
But we do know basic science, or at least we all should. It amazes me how many of this country’s population were not paying attention in science or health class – viruses kill, viruses reproduce, and science is ever evolving. That’s why what the scientists and doctors say changes from time to time.
Perhaps we need a dose of what it meant to parents who watched their children die of “simple things” like polio, the flu, Scarlet Fever, and the like – back when they prayed for a quickly found and effective treatment. The old “Little House on the Prairie” episode when they bought meat off the back of someone’s wagon, only to have half the community be sickened with natural Anthrax poisoning, with several townsfolk dying. If it was some devastating diagnosis for which there wasn’t a cure “right now”, wouldn’t we grasp onto the hope if there was one coming down the road a bit?
My hope for the world and everyone in it is that this COVID pandemic subsides, goes away completely would be even nicer. Worry about your family, worry about your community, worry about those you don’t even know yet. And in the meantime, please don’t be one of the ones that say “Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve” when it is too late.
#COVID19 #science #conspiracytheory #camping #EmeraldLakeStatePark #BrooklynCollege #physicaleducation #healtheducation #teaching #DrAnthonyFauci #Fauci #at80 #LGBTQ #AIDS #pandemic #viruses #apolitical #LittleHouseonthePrairie #shouldacouldawoulda
I was duped.
I thought that after many years, an issue had been resolved. Finally, once and for all, not to be an issue again.
You see, I was told from a very young age that if you could not add to something through monetary means, you needed to work your hardest, do your best and show whoever was “in charge” of you, that you were of value – hard-working, never backing down from a challenge, getting the job done. My family instilled this in me, and I always believed it to be true. It had served me well all my life; I was always considered to be a great worker and as my experience grew, one with leadership qualities and a fine work ethic.
When that mixes with a supervisor/boss who is a narcissist; one who has a truly fragile ego and must be the star of the show, you will have a toxic workplace. Nervously being at work every day – never knowing when you would be called to the “principal’s office” to be chastised and for what. The smallest incidents would blow up without warning, resulting in mayhem when it was least needed. In fact, I have been in this position several times throughout my careers.
When I say that I thought the issue has been resolved, I meant my internal issues. I was raised to be respectful. Yes, I am sarcastic with my humor, when I am comfortable with someone, I will share many laughs and comments, but I never want to be disrespectful – any one of my relatives would have eagerly given me a swift kick in the pants if I behaved badly. But my issue is truly wrapped around the respect I have for myself.
When I say I was duped, I did it to myself. My younger self did not possess respect for me to allow getting out of that situation quickly. Somehow, I continued to put myself in similar situations – a narcissistic boss who cannot handle someone who does what they say they have come to do, working well with people, and getting the job done. I finally realize that I need to respect the value I bring to the table, stand my ground and stop being disrespectful to myself.
And in that respect for me, I will not make apologies to the way I have worked, nor how easily I work anyone else, and the results achieved. Whether it is a 97% passing rate amongst my students on a final exam or completion of a business plan to help a startup, teaching business foundations to my balloon decorating competitors or becoming a published author, I will not allow someone to diminish me and everything I can do.
The old saying of “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me” is to be considered at its face value – it will not happen again. For that, you can be sure!
It’s backwards from the usual but it makes sense here.
In a year when so many of us have experienced loss, 2020 gave me the opportunity to find. I have been able to find my focus in business, I have found understanding of some of my life’s situations. I found the woman who chose an adoption plan for me and better understand the magnitude of her sacrifice and the gift she gave to my parents.
I must believe that finding her was made easy through technology, government intervention and divine reason. I always believed that the search was going to be long, drawn out and would probably not end the way I hoped. Within a year of searching in earnest, mission complete and I now have an extended, new part of my family that can only enhance the person I am, through our connecting and sharing of our lives’ stories.
I have found not only my birth mother, but her wonderful husband and some people close to them (not easy in a time of social distancing and lockdowns). I am learning about my grandmother and what an amazing life she led, “Dahlink”. When beginning my search, a DNA test connected me with a gentleman whose last name I tried not to mess up, who was kind enough to take time from his busy life to help me connect some dots. Almost too good to be true, he is extensively involved in genetics and history, his understanding and contacts made the search end quickly.
Through DNA, a finally opened adoption record and his colleagues who knew what questions to ask, we determined that said gentleman was my uncle, he had two sisters living in New York and his father was still alive.
Once names were determined, my uncle asked his father who remembered a young post-war love – “She was beautiful!” He recalled, over seventy years after they parted. He knew of their daughter, but timings and circumstance did not allow them to meet. He was still living overseas after a well-traveled life, successful career, and long marriage.
My original contact with my birth mother arrived at her door at a complicated time. When I didn’t receive any correspondence right away, I of course assumed that this was indeed not going to go the way I hoped. I contacted my uncle and said, “If nothing else happens on my end, if we could at least get her to meet her dad – that would be great.” Life of course always has other plans and over the summer, my uncle and I both held off trying to contact my birth mom again. I knew that my grandfather was well into his 90’s and I felt bad that we had gotten this far – I feared for a lost opportunity.
Technology being what it is now, a Zoom call with my uncle and two aunts was an amazing introduction to three incredibly fascinating people. Millions of questions will be asked when we can all gather safely down the road, but we all wanted their father to meet his daughter. At the beginning of September, my second letter went out – as only I could – with a copy of the first (in case it was never received), some pictures and all the legal papers. Within a day of receiving that letter, I was on the phone for an hours long phone call with my birth mom.
Among the gifts I was able to be part of, my uncle and aunts got to “Zoom meet” their sibling (my uncle is happy that he’s no longer the oldest!) and arrangements would be made to have their father on a call with all of us ASAP.
A birthday video conference with all of us (with new cousins for me as well) and we were able to make a connection over seventy years in the making. Grandfather was very sharp and knew exactly who the two new faces were. He ended the call telling us he loved us and was happy to see us. An amazing day indeed!
Now for the lost… Grandfather’s brother died in the 1918 Flu Pandemic. He commented to his children how he lost him to something we were now going through once again. I had so hoped that we all would have been able to take a plane ride and meet in person, but COVID had other plans. Reading a Presidential memoir in French a few weeks ago, even surrounded by his books and papers when diagnosed, vibrant and sharp with clarity of a brilliant mind until a virus changed his course.
Grandfather passed last Friday. My new family celebrates the life of a father they knew, and I look forward to connecting with them and hearing of his life well-lived.
Jane connects powerful women with an international network of “Phenomenal Message Makers”. Resources, connections, opportunities and trainings to help them clarify their message or brand, increasing their visibility, and growing their audience. Join her Facebook Group, Phenomenal Message Makers, for tips & downloads on focusing & promoting your message. Read more of Jane’s writings at BrainzMagazine.com, in her upcoming collaborative book, Voices of the 21st Century: Resilient Women Who Rise (release date February 23, 2021) or at janeparmel.com.
A “speed limit” birthday – what a ride to 55 and for all that lies ahead!
Here we are on November 21, 2020.
National Adoption Day is a collective effort to raise awareness of the more than 120,000 children waiting to be adopted from foster care in the United States. A coalition of national partners — the Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption, Congressional Coalition on Adoption Institute, Alliance for Children’s Rights and Children’s Action Network — founded National Adoption Day.
My 55th birthday AND National Adoption Day – how appropriate that they land together – especially this year. 2020 has been a unique year, to say the least. And this birthday, has been, for me, the most unique of all.
I didn’t see the TWO voice messages on my cell that morning in September. Then a few hours later, my house phone rang. Thanks to “Caller ID”, I saw the caller. I so wanted Rae to be home when I called because I had no idea what the outcome would be (I will take a risk but I am more comfortable with a plan!). My curiosity won – I couldn’t wait for her to be home. I called back.
I wish I could have recorded the call, but I didn’t. I was excited, apprehensive, nervous and petrified all at the same time I was convincing myself that in the end, this wouldn’t change my day-to-day, or maybe it would; this would be a defining moment in my life, of that I was sure.
She picked up. “This is Jane”, I said. And we began a conversation that lasted over an hour. Details about her and her mom, how they wound up in all the places they did, and how I came to be. I told her of her half-siblings located not too far and her father, whom she had never met. I started this journey to possibly make a connection then realized that my connection was secondary to my birth mother connecting with her siblings and father, most of all. We planned a call with the siblings which was one of the most amazing calls I have had – a collection of amazingly intelligent, accomplished, warm and welcoming people. My uncle was happy that he was no longer “the oldest” and we shared many questions and laughs along the way. My grandfather’s 96th birthday was upcoming and a Zoom celebration would be planned. Ninety-six and completely aware that he was speaking to his oldest daughter for the first time as well as a granddaughter he even imagined. It was the most amazing call!
With COVID restrictions (at the time) being somewhat eased, I met my birth mother. Masked protocols followed, we could not help but to embrace each other and she said to me, “I waited 54 years to do that!” We talked and talked and shared details about our separated lives. I told her about my parents and she explained why she chose an adoption plan for she and I.
She told me she struggled with her decision and that was why I was adopted at five months old. I never thought that was different, but she explained that it was time she needed. Did she think of me? Yes. She didn’t know if I was told of my adoption and she held back from contacting me because she did not want to upset the life I had. And the biggest question? The why.
An answer so truthful – “I wanted you to have a mother and father – a family.” She had grown up with an amazing mother but did not have her father in her life. She wanted a different way and she was in control of that narrative for me; she also had to make the best decision for her as well. My birth mom was sure to tell me that she knew my mother was my mother – who raised me, changed diapers and who did every other thing for me. She always respected that.
There has been levity in my series of posts and I appreciate every one of you who have read along. I want to be quite clear in a few things – first, my parents, my family are MY FAMILY. All the scrapped knees, school events, music lessons, and family gatherings are the indelible marks on my life that make me who I am. Secondly, know that in no way was this search an attempt to disavow, disrespect or forget who my mother and father were and will always be to me. My love for them will never change, as the love for my extended family, cousins, aunts, and uncles will always remain. Finally, this was something I needed for ME – to answer questions that only a few of my friends (Frann, Frank, Dolores, to name a few) and my cousins (Matthew, Kristen, Christopher and Annalisa) could share as fellow adoptees. Things have been made clear for me and I finally acknowledge the good in everything that has happened over these five and a half decades. Anyone who has ever rattled me by questioning who I was, the character I have or the motives behind my deeds is now just a mere blip on the screen – I have been made complete in this final piece of the puzzle.
I am looking forward to many years ahead getting to know a whole new set of my aunts, uncles, and grandparents, through talks, pictures, and memories. I hope for a time when we can all be in the same room to do that. I am so excited to have been blessed with the connection to my birth mother – I truly thank her for making my life possible. It may sound cliché, but it really was the most amazing gift someone could give another.
For my birthday this year, I received a very early morning text from the one person who was there when I came into this world – something so many people take for granted. It will be in my opinion, the best birthday ever!
These DNA kits – oh, these DNA kits. Which one to use? One of them, two – maybe three. A few years ago, I decided to take one of these tests. A little bit of saliva in a tube, send it in, wait a few weeks – at the very least, I would know what kind of blood was coursing through my veins – maybe not who’s blood but at least where said blood came from.
23andMe and Ancestry both done and both showed more Eastern European, a lot of South American, and smaller percentages of almost one-third of the globe. So the Balkans, maybe Russia, possibly Germany, Hungary, and a half dozen other places I wasn’t too familiar with. One test connected me to many third, fourth and fifth cousins; another test showed an uncle/cousin and a great-uncle/grandfather/uncle result. Well this was promising!!
I sent an email to the uncle/cousin match and crossed my fingers. Not too much information, just that I was adopted, looking and did he know any relatives who might have been in New York in the 60’s. I knew from the information in the test results that we shared a female relative, most likely, my birth mother. A day later, I received an email that said he would be happy to help me with my search. As my incredible luck in 2020 goes, my uncle/cousin was extremely well-versed in DNA and genealogy – this almost seemed too good to be true. (I honestly thought it was a program that the testing kit company was offering but, hey, if he could help and was willing, well, I would be happy to accept the help.)
Let’s make something clear, this had not been an all-consuming-I’ve-gotta-know thing every day of my life but if you know anything about me, I’m curious. My favorite word was “Why?” and heaven-help the person who would say “Because I said so” to me. But at the strangest times, during the oddest moments, I would wonder if there was someone who looked like me out there – was my birth mom thinking about me, did she remember my birthday, would I ever get a chance to meet her? So the ride began and I definitely wanted to be in the car!
End of year busy-ness, travel and then a world-wide lockdown. It would be months before I would hear from my uncle/cousin. I gave him my birth mother’s name and the few dates we could find through immigration records. In May, I received a phone call from the Middle East and suddenly, my family has expanded to include an uncle, two aunts, and a grandfather – 95 years young and living outside of Beirut. My new found relatives were closer than I would have ever thought – although “Uncle” and “Grandfather” were in Beirut, my aunts are but a few hours drive from my home.
My uncle spoke to his father who fondly recalled the girl he fell in love with in Germany in the late 40’s. Allied-occupied Germany, “Grandfather” had to return to Syria, while my “Grandmother” left for Paris after she had their daughter. At 95, he clearly remembered my grandmother – “She was beautiful!” he remarked with a smile. He did know of his child but was unable to meet her. Europe to America in the 1950’s and New York in the 1960’s – my “Grandmother” appeared on paper to be an independent soul and she and her daughter forged a life together. Not much more information on where or who they could be but at least it was a start.
I sent a letter in March – not sure if it would reach its destination as it was mailed two days before the lockdown here. My birth mother, the woman who carried me and made what I believe is one of the hardest decisions a women could, was not that far. The distance? Another state over or so. Would she answer the letter? I let it go over the summer. I figured things went so well so quickly, something was bound to get hung-up. But….
Who am I kidding? You know I sent another letter.
My address, my e-mail, my cell phone, and my house phone number. I told her to look me up – check to make sure I wasn’t a crazy nut! In all my letters to my new uncle and to my birth mom all saying the same thing – I didn’t want to bother them or upset their lives in any way. I sent the second letter in September and three days later, the phone rang.