I was never the loudest voice in the room. As a child, I shrank from attention, choosing the comfort of silence over the risk of being seen. As I grew older and began my career as a hairstylist, I slowly came out of my shell. But when my work shifted to television — styling the hair of my dear friend Katie Couric — I found myself growing quiet again. Not in the makeup room, where we always shared the best laughs while getting Katie ready to step on stage, but in the studio, where silence was essential once the cameras rolled and the interviews began.
Yet somehow, just last week, I found myself speaking into a microphone across from the New York State Attorney General. Life has a way of calling us forward when it matters most.
I used to sit quietly and intently as Katie interviewed politicians, celebrities, legal experts, and doctors. I won’t lie — some of the topics went over my head or made it hard to stay focused for hours at a time. But looking back, Katie was teaching me without even knowing it. I admired her natural ability to connect with others. I paid close attention in the makeup room as she briefed with producers or revised copy with her co-writers. Last week, I tried to channel that same energy — what we called “One Take Katie” — as I read my testimony in front of Letitia James. Aside from a few page-turning snafus, I made it through a four-and-a-half-minute speech I think Katie would be proud of.
I come from a long line of strong-willed Italian American women in the Bronx. I was probably the shyest in the family — the one who didn’t like loud music (a fact my cousins love to remind me of, recalling how I’d cover my ears at family parties). But I listened closely. I watched as my mother confidently discussed politics or offered fair-minded advice to friends and family. Her calm authority stays with me.
I’ve always learned best from women. Maybe that’s part of why I’ve found success as a hairstylist. Sure, helping people look good is part of it — but the real reward is getting to talk to so many smart, engaging ladies who sit in my chair every day. That comfort and confidence around women also came, I think, from attending an all-girls high school. And now, I find myself helping my daughter save hers.
When the Board of Trustees for Preston High School (which also happens to be the school’s landlord) abruptly announced it would be closing the Bronx school at the end of the academic year, the news stunned students, parents, alumni, and staff. While there has been a nationwide influx of parochial school closings the last few years, no one in the community expected Preston to be one of them. There had been no warning, no community meetings, no open dialogue — just a sudden email, sent late on a Tuesday afternoon, saying that the school would shut its doors after over 75 years of educating young women.
It didn’t make sense. Enrollment was steady. The school was beloved. And yet, the decision had already been made behind closed doors. My daughter is a junior, which means her last 10 months of high school would be at a completely new school. After being in middle school during the pandemic, I knew this would not be an easy transition, and it would completely disrupt her and her classmates.
Alumnae quickly mobilized. A group of passionate former students led by Jackeline Stewart-Hawkins, Vanessa Javier, Stefanie Fedak Rodrigues, and sisters Andrea Donkor and Crystal Donkor formed a coalition, organized rallies, created a website, and began digging for answers. They found discrepancies in the financial narrative and called for accountability. Parents, students, and faculty joined in.
What started as a few voices quickly became a movement. A student launched a petition that gained over 10,000 signatures. A lot of my clients happen to be Preston alumni, and one in particular, Lisa Hession, created a Save Preston Facebook page that quickly gained traction. I sent certified letters demanding transparency from the Board of Trustees. There were “SAVE PRESTON” signs in almost every window of the businesses in our area. This grassroots effort to save our children’s school was up and running and ready to grow.
Our collective efforts drew the attention of the news media, elected officials, community leaders, and even our most famous alumni, Jennifer Lopez, commented in support of her alma mater. But most importantly, Preston’s plight reached the New York State Attorney General’s office.
“Taking away one of the last all-girls schools in our area is a profound loss — not just for current students, but for generations of girls who deserve the same chance to thrive,” I told Attorney General James when my turn came. And because our case is being made so strongly, I added this: “With overwhelming community support, tireless alumni efforts, and a committed faculty and staff, our daughters are learning what it looks like when people rise up and fight for what’s right.”
You see, Preston is owned by The Sisters of the Divine Compassion. Three of these sisters also nominated themselves to the Board of Trustees of the school, giving them full authority over the fate of Preston, including their refusal to accept an offer from a charitable donor that would have kept the school open for another 25 years. Since the NYS Attorney General oversees 501(c)(3) nonprofits, the question became bigger than just a school — this was about governance, transparency, and the protection of educational institutions that serve working-class and middle-income families in neighborhoods like ours.
That’s how I found myself, the shy kid who once held her ears at family parties, sitting on a stage, speaking directly to the Attorney General of New York State. I proudly sat alongside other concerned parents as we read our testimonies and wielded questions from Leticia James and her team from the AG’s office. Was I nervous? Absolutely. But I had to channel everything I learned from years of watching all the confident women that played a huge role in my life. I didn’t do it just for Preston. I did it for my daughter, so she could see that speaking up matters. I did it for every young woman who walks those halls and deserves to graduate with the same sense of sisterhood and purpose that shaped me.
Dana Fiore started her career at Louis Licari salon and has worked as Katie’s hairstylist since 2006. She is the owner of Hair House, located in New Rochelle, N.Y.
