We wake up, get work, go back home and rinse and repeat – or at least it feels that way sometimes. In truth, there are a million moments in between where we interact with others and we can’t help but wonder what folks will think about us once we aren’t showing up, perhaps once we are gone. Some very thoughtful members of the community share their thoughts on this with us below.
Tina Finks & Ruth Darrow
That Shala Yoga Loft made a difference in a moment in time when our community needed it most. We hope people remember that when the yoga world felt fractured and uncertain, we created a place where healing could happen. That teachers who had lost their studios found a home again. That students rediscovered what it meant to practice in community rather than isolation. Read more>>
Austin Pruett
Man, that’s a good question. Honestly, I think the business no matter how successful is almost irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Even if we become “the best,” whatever that means locally or nationally, that won’t be the part that really matters. The obvious hopes are that I was a good husband, a good father, and a good employer. Read more>>
Kaylyn Hill
I hope people say that I made room—for ideas, for voices, for visions that didn’t always have a place. That I used my creativity not just to build beautiful things, but to build bridges—between art and strategy, between culture and community, between who we are and who we’re becoming. Read more>>
Keya McClain-Goodwin
When I’m gone, I don’t want a polished version of me left behind. I don’t want the highlight reel, the Instagram-perfect eulogy, or the sanitized storytelling that strips away the layers of who I really was. Tell the truth. Tell all of it. Tell them I was layered — Not all light and love. Not always graceful or polished. Tell them I had my shadow. Read more>>
Diana Guintu
That I broke generational cycles—and helped others do the same. I’ll never forget the moment I decided I wasn’t going to give up on myself. I had hit burnout hard, and in that quiet moment of exhaustion and clarity, I walked into my daughter’s room. She was asleep in her crib, and I looked at her and silently made a promise: I will be different. Read more>>
Rigatoni Garrido
I hope people will remember me as a kind and decent person. I want Pipapeep to be associated with love and joy, and the sensation that everything is going to be okay no matter what happens or how one feels in a dire time. Read more>>
Jhon Molina
On a personal level, I would like people to remember me fondly—as a good friend, son, and colleague—cherishing the best moments we shared. On a professional level, I hope to be remembered as a good teacher: someone honest, loyal to my profession and to my students, someone they learned from or felt inspired by in their dance journey. Read more>>
Nicholas Dillon
The story I hope people tell about me when I’m gone is that I was kind, generous, God‑fearing, grateful, and courageous. Through the work I do each day, my deepest desire is to change lives—one person at a time. Read more>>
Desi & Darren Gaither
Simply put that we were good and honest people. The bigger story though would be that we shared our version of art with the world and it brought them joy. Read more>>
Eddie Pierce
I most hope to be remembered as someone who educated, inspired, and entertained everyone I could with a purpose. That they felt seen, heard, and loved. That in my living testimony, they saw faith at work, fearlessness, discipline, creativity and resourcefulness, gratitude and generosity, the fair, compassionate conduction of business, and that motivated and equipped them to do far more than I ever accomplished. Read more>>
Joel Mays III
When I’m gone I want the world to just tell my story the right way. Not for anything bad they might assume but for the work I put in on this earth for my family and myself. I want tears to shed in jubilation to celebrate me, living memory after memory. Conversation after conversation. Read more>>
