My Big Fat Greek-American Blog

“Valentines…the only day a baby gets violent and shoot arrows at innocent bystanders and we think it’s cute.”

I’m attempting to write a witty intro for an interview I’m about to tape on Connecting Point, the WGBY show I host & produce…and this is the only one I can think of at the moment.

I don’t get the point of the holiday and refuse to celebrate it. Never have, never will– although admittedly, that’s been harder to live by recently as I’ve gotten older, less of a rebel and found someone that I actually care about. I kinda broke the rules last year though- and no, it didn’t involve a tall handsome Greek man. Just a handful of tween girls and some junk food.

Sadly, most girls think that Valentine’s Day must include a boy in some shape or form…and I’m talking girls that aren’t even old enough for high school or can even drive yet. The last thing they should be worried about is being with a boy. Last year I set about to change that mindset with some pre-teen girls I had been mentoring in my hometown back in NY.

We set up a spa night at a local church’s basement. We ate pizza. We wore mud masks and did our nails. My 2 year old niece was the makeup artist of the night.

I may have thought I was teaching them how to stand apart from the “norm” or how to look past skin color and ethnicity and be friends with “that girl across the room” but instead they were teaching me. Everything silly from rap lyrics (they threw in the word ‘Greek’ as a nod to my ethnicity) to serious stuff like how prevalent peer pressure is nowadays especially on social media.

Although I now live further west in the Pioneer Valley, I still look back at last year and relish that night not just as a way I could teach younger girls but also what they taught me. Sometimes when mentoring, you may think the child is receiving the benefit of the relationship and while you hope they grow and learn from it…you may be surprised to learn that we adults can benefit just as much.

Mentoring is so important because if a child doesn’t believe that someone cares about them, they will in turn not care for themselves or the people around them and a general dislike for life puts them in a very bad place that can negatively impact them and those around. If, however, that child or tween or young adult has someone who believes in them, they are more likely to turn around one day and not just be a better member of society but also a mentor themselves.

Like most other mentors, I could rattle off a list of people that touched and helped form my life: my dad, my mom, my grandparents, my teachers, my church, even my neighbors…but without all of their help, I would’ve never been able to reach out to a younger generation and “pay it forward.”

So this year, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or the ridiculousness behind it, find a way to be a mentor and impact someone’s life.

Just stay away from babies with arrows.

They might turn into pre-adolescent girls that’ll change your perspective on Valentine’s Day!

*as originally seen here: http://massmentoring.wordpress.com/2014/02/13/putting-a-spin-on-valentines-day-and-mentoring/

“If you could interview anyone, who would it be?”

They say be prepared for any question in a job interview but I had never been asked that before…let alone during a job interview.
I was asked that question though while interviewing at WGBY to join Connecting Point.
Thinking for a second, immediately the answer came to mind.
Yiayia.
I would interview my Greek grandmother on my dad’s side.
Unfortunately I never met her because she tragically passed away before I was born but my dad talked of her constantly about what a great mother and Greek woman she was.
So even though I never had the privilege of meeting her, I felt as if I knew her from the stories and memories of my dad who unashamedly called himself, “a mama’s boy.”
What would I ask Yiayia?
Was she scared coming over on a boat from Greece not knowing the language or way of life in America?
Did she get emotionally happy or stay quietly strong when she saw the Statute of Liberty as she sailed into Ellis Island?
How did she manage to raise a family and be there for her kids yet still work herself to the bone at the same time?
I would ask her if my dad was always this awesome or was he a trouble maker?
How did she know my mom was the perfect girl for dad and then made sure to tell him so?
And so many more questions I would ask her about her life… dreams… goals.
I’m convinced I have her work ethic passed down through my dad.
I wonder what else we’d have in common if we spent time together at family weddings, funerals and holidays.
Or would we get to see each other more often than that?
I guess I’ll never know and that is so sad yet she inspires me.
If she didn’t give up til her last breath, neither will I.
If anything, out of tribute to her and her willingness to forge a new path in life.
I can’t imagine not being her Greek granddaughter.

And it’s amazing how such a simple question can make someone think long and hard about loving a person they’ve never met.

So I thank God for that question from the people I now get to call my bosses and co-workers.

They may not be big fat and Greek but I’m proud to call WGBY family.

Aliz Koletas is the host and producer of Connecting Point, a TV show on WGBY in Springfield, Mass. Originally from Troy, she started her broadcast career in the Albany area but moved farther east this summer after the merger between WXXA and WTEN. She comes from a big fat Greek family which is at 18 …for now.

Q We last talked to you in 2011. You were reporting for an independent TV show and opening a consignment shop in Troy. Catch us up to speed.

A I opened my High Maintenance, Low Budget Consignment Shop in Lansingburgh and had such a blast getting involved in my neighborhood. Reporting and clothes are two of my passions so it was great doing both at the same time. Unfortunately, I had a pretty bad car accident in October 2011 and spent the next several months in the hospital, rehab and then physical therapy. I sadly had to sell my consignment shop and focus on getting better but it was such a great experience overall.

Q When did you join Fox23/WXXA?

A A couple months later, I decided to leave the show I was reporting for and join the local Fox station. They didn’t have any on-air positions so I worked off camera and bugged my boss until he let me go out in the field. I am very thankful for the many stories I got to cover but unfortunately, that didn’t last long. Fox23 and Channel 10 merged and I like to say, “They let all the awesome people go.” I wanted to balance my career with my personal life so I decided to look for an opportunity specifically in the Springfield, Mass. area. My car accident ironically helped me slow down and smell the roses.

Q What do you do now?

A Over the summer, I reported for ABC40 in Springfield. I was able to meet different people in the area and learn more about western Massachusetts. I am happy to announce though that I just accepted the position to become host for Connecting Point, a TV show that connects you with people, places and issues that matter most to Western New England. It airs on WGBY.

Q What will your new job entail?

A WGBY is a PBS station and they don’t have the same time constraints or limits like commercial TV does, so I get to dig deeper and discuss stories more in depth. I’m excited to explore issues and topics that are relevant and important to people in the western Massachusetts, northern Connecticut, southern Vermont and areas beyond.

Q How does your culture play a role in your career?

http://www.troyrecord.com/articles/2013/09/19/news/doc5239e7a462704597557200.txt

Aliz Koletas, who has been a reporter for WGGB, Springfield’s ABC affiliate, has been named host and co-producer of “Connecting Point,” the popular series, on topics of area interest in a variety of fields, broadcast by WGBY-PublicTelevision for Western New England.

Koletas will join Jim Madigan, director of public affairs on the show, which launches its fourth season on Oct. 7 at 7:30 p.m. She replaces Carrie Saldo, who was with the half-hour show since its local inception. Saldo left in June to take on a new role at Rocky Mountain Public Media, an affiliate in Denver, Colo.

“I am so honored and very excited to join this award-winning station as host of ‘Connecting Point.’ As we start the new season, I hope viewers across Western New England will explore and learn with me, as we tell the many untold stories of this unique area of the Northeast,” Koletas said in a station release.

Koletas began her broadcasting career in Albany, N.Y., at the local Fox affiliate, and as a reporter for Parentology, a weekly parenting program. She is a graduate of Albany’s New School of Radio and Television.

“Aliz’s enthusiasm and dedication to storytelling and analysis will be a wonderful complement to ‘Connecting Point.’ Her attention to social media will help us make great strides in engaging viewers and bringing our content beyond broadcast,” said Lynn Page, WGBY’s deputy general manager.

This season ‘Connecting Point” will air three nights each week, instead of five. The schedule change will free up resources for field work, according to the release.

“It has been a number of years since our producers have had time to create a long-form documentary of their own,” said Keith Clark, director of local production and services.

For more information, visit http://www.wgby.org.

http://www.masslive.com/living/index.ssf/2013/09/aliz_koletas_named_wgby_connecting_point_host_co-producer.html#incart_river

I was at my parent’s house that evening. I will never forget it. The phone rang with such urgency I could almost feel it through the line and I picked it up before the second ring. A panicked voice was on the other line screaming for my dad.

“Jake, is that you?!” I asked hesitatingly, not sure if it really was my brother-in-law.

“Get your dad on the phone! Get your dad on the phone! Daniel’s been in a car accident!” he shouted.

Immediately I ran across the hardwood floors of the dining room and into the warm glow of the living room. Almost as if the phone had caught fire from the fireplace, I dropped the phone into my dad’s lap while half yelling, half gasping, “It’s Daniel…car accident…It’s bad.”

I slowly made my way into the hallway and up the grand staircase.

“Mom.”

She heard the apprehension mixed with fear in my voice.

“What?….What’s wrong?!”

I didn’t know how to say it.

“Daniel’s been—been in a car accident. It’s—it’s bad….very bad.” I finally came out with it. My mom’s face immediately filled with questions but no words came out. She rushed past me, still standing shell-shocked on the landing. I could hear her softly sobbing, “Oh, God. Oh, God, no. Oh, God.”

Those next few hours would drag by so slowly that it felt years had passed before my eyes. The waiting, the prayers, the sleeplessness and absolute fear of the unknown kept us up all night. I crawled into bed with my younger brothers who had fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t even cry anymore.

Across the hall, I heard my Dad begging God just to keep his son alive through the night so he could say goodbye. Just give him one more night—and then God could take him Home. Daniel hung on for one more night and very early the next morning, my parents caught the first flight out to see him.

The next week crept by at an unbelievably slow pace. I rarely picked up the phone except when my dad’s cell phone number showed on the Caller ID. He and Mom spent every single night at the hospital. They would wait every four hours to see Daniel for ten minutes.

I don’t remember the drive down south except stopping at the scene of his accident. I couldn’t believe how small the tree was. I picked up a personal belonging of my brother’s to bring back to him. I decided I didn’t like Mississippi.

I hated the smell of the hospital. The walls were stark white. The fluorescent lights were blinding. The elevator ride was stifling hot.

“Just be normal. Don’t act weird,” my dad instructed us cautiously. He opened Daniel’s door with a soft knock and my eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness and smallness of the room. Nothing could prepare me for what I saw. Beeping lights, alien machines, the heavy smell of medicine and tangled wires made their way all over his body. My very handsome, strong teenage brother was bandaged up beyond recognition with his arms strapped to the bed. His bright red Marine Corps blanket jumped out from the stark white sheets that seemed to match the stark white walls.

He was just laying there underneath it all. Silent. Still. Lifeless.

Was he dead?

My two younger brothers stood in my shadow—almost afraid to move. Our mouths were wide open at the pitiful sight of our brother. Something primal inside of me wanted to scream and yell at the top of my lungs to get Daniel’s attention. I wanted to rush the bed and force him to sit up and start talking to us. Most of all, I wanted to blink back my tears and open my eyes to wake up from this nightmare.

Instead, I slowly walked over to his bed, touched his paralyzed body and softly said, “Hey, Daniel. It’s good to see ya. I love you.”

“Give me ANY word and I show you how the root of that word is Greek…” Laugh, but it’s (mostly) true. Perfect example for this post? The definition of phobia is, “an extreme or irrational fear of or aversion to something”…and it comes from the Greek word, φόβος, which means fear.

Most people fear death, public speaking, heights or spiders. Neither of those bother me. Just red apples and watches. Yep, you heard that right.

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away” probably comes from a Greek saying, too, but I digress. Anything that remotely resembles a red, WAXY apple will keep me far away. I love green apples but am convinced I will choke to death on the red ones. The texture, the look and how big they are is just downright creepy. I’m more scared of choking to death on one of them than actually dying. Makes no sense I know- hence, why this is called a phobia!

Watches though?

I’ve never been able to wear a watch because it’s like my friend Jamie Pelfrey aptly described, “all I can feel is this thing that is trapped between my hand and arm…it feels like a one-sided handcuff.”

It feels claustrophobic on my wrist like it’s trying to strangle me… and worse? In my mind, it requires way too much time to put on and take off.

Something changed in February though. I went to FL for a couple weeks and visited my grandparents at their winter home. My Yiayia and I went to a jewelry party and I fell in love with this beautiful bracelet watch. I loved how easily it slipped on and slipped off. I loved the sparkle from the diamonds. It looked more like a piece of jewelry than a watch. I was sold. A couple hundred dollars later and I was the proud owner of this special piece. I don’t wear it often- only to weddings and sometimes, church. It adds a sophisticated touch to my jewelry collection (see picture below) in my closet. Not only is it more than a simple, everyday watch, it also is a reminder that it came at a perfect time where I finally stopped feeling so claustrophobic about more important things in life… like commitment or opening up and sharing your future with someone you love.

Did that have anything to do with my acceptance of finally wearing a (bracelet) watch? I don’t know…only time will tell.