Category Archives: faith

The Writing Life – Act Two

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I don’t understand.  I adore writing, and I have no shortage of material.  In fact, I came across my blogging notebook today.  Page after page full of great ideas I have not yet written.  I also came across another binder of writing projects, as well as my writing portfolio from one of my favorite writing classes, a class I took at Delta College nearly a decade ago.  What to do with it all?  It is time to bring it all together.  Why is it so difficult for me to write consistently for long stretches of time?  Why did I abandon poetry again?  I came across some wonderful pieces.  Pieces that need a home.

Then there are the larger projects.  Mom and I need to finish her series of children’s board books, abandoned nearly nine years ago.  I still love them.  Over the last several years, I’ve toyed around with the idea of writing a book about the canoe livery.  It is time to put in the research.  I need to interview my parents and former employees before it is too late.  I do not want those stories to be lost, even if they are never published.  There are simply too many good ones.

So, what is getting in the way?  Quite simply, life.  Accepting a position as a 10th grade English teacher at Michigan Virtual Charter Academy (MVCA) back in August, I’ve been busy.  While I subbed at MCVA most of last school year, I am now a full-fledged faculty member who hadn’t yet experienced the start of the school year – and all that brings (I started in early October last year).  In other words, I’m now getting back to finding time to write.  Just because you have prepared for a new school year in a brick and mortar school does not mean that you know the ins and outs of preparing for a new school year at a virtual school.

One highlight of the school year is creating an official high school creative writing club.  I am passionate about it.  So far, I’ve been able to create a safe online space for students interested in creative writing.  As a club, there are no academic expectations.  We are writing for the sheer creative power of it.  By the way, MVCA offers a creative writing course as well.  This … this is something different, something special.

Thus far, I’ve curated websites that might help budding high school creative writers.  I’ve also shared my favorite quotes and books on writing.  There is space for students to share their work amongst themselves.  I can’t imagine what I would’ve done with those resources, all online and free, and such a nurturing community.  The best part is the enthusiasm of my students.  I’ve watched them form fast friendships over favorite music, video games, books, movies, and more.  They are so supportive of one another.  I can’t wait to see all that we will accomplish this year.  That includes getting back to my own writing.

Field of Dreams – James Earl Jone’s

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After watching Reagan (amazing movie, by the way) on Sunday, realizing that we as a nation have argued over the exact same issues for at least 60 years, and the passing of James Earl Jones on Monday, I’m in the mood for nostalgia.  When I learned the news that he had passed away, Jones’ speech in Field of Dreams (1989) came to mind immediately.  After well over 30 years, it still holds up.  It remains one of my favorite movies, and quite possibly the ultimate baseball movie, aside from Ken Burns’ epic documentary Baseball (1994).  Enjoy!

More on baseball below:

For the Love of Baseball

Childhood Antics

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July 1984 – Tawas, Michigan – Hamming it up with my Schneider and McTaggart cousins at Aunt Tara and Uncle Bill’s wedding. Thank you Aunt Amy for helping me locate this picture!

Sometimes, a picture can bring up a wide-range of emotions:  joy, sadness, nostalgia, and everything else.  Earlier this summer, I sent my aunts on a search for the picture above.  It had been on my mind for some time.  I consider it one of the definitive photos of my childhood; one that has always stood out.  First, Grandma Buttrick had it framed in one of the back bedrooms of her house for many years.  I always enjoyed coming across it during visits.  For that reason alone, the picture remains a favorite.

While I was too young to remember having the picture taken at my Aunt Tara’s wedding to Uncle Bill in July of 1984, I grew up hearing all about it.  I can’t tell you how many times I heard the story of how I, at three years old, took the instruction to smile at everyone as a flower girl walking down the aisle much too literally.  I stopped at every pew.  At the end of the ceremony, I cried and ran after my mom as she left the church in the processional as a bridesmaid.  I didn’t understand that I just needed to follow my older cousins.  My only memory from that day is a hazy notion of playing at the beach on the animal-shaped play equipment at the Tawas City park during the reception.

July 1984 – Smiling for the camera right after the ceremony …
Thank you to Aunt Tara for locating this gem.

In the picture, I see myself as a little girl full of personality and character.  There is no doubt that I was a ham like my mom, an extrovert.  When I look at this picture, I see “before.”  Before self-doubt, before losing self-confidence, before I realized that my body is, and always has been, all wrong; in other words, before kindergarten.  Prior to kindergarten, no one – not my parents, grandparents, cousins, other adults, other children, or preschool classmates – made me feel inferior in any way.  No one asked me to be something that I wasn’t, no one called me fat or ugly.  I could be myself.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved school.  I would not be a teacher today if that wasn’t the case.  I loved learning, I had some great teachers, and most of my classmates were great.  Yet, I dreaded gym and recess all throughout elementary school.  In gym, always picked last for any game, I just wanted to be good enough.  During recess, other students started picking up on just how different my body is and was.  When you hear that you are fat and ugly on a daily basis at that young of age, you start to believe it.  It becomes a part of you.

1985 – Playing @ The Cottage on Sage Lake with McTaggart and Schneider cousins.

Oddly, things improved a bit during junior high.  I cared about my grades, others didn’t.  Suddenly, I didn’t care so much about peer pressure.  I began to see it for what it was, even though I would have given anything to be what was then considered “normal.”  Keep in mind that this included the era of grunge, emo, and heroin chic.  Any “normal” adolescent felt inadequate when faced with the popular culture of the time. While I finally did come into my own in high school and college, this picture makes me wonder what I missed all those years in-between.  What if I hadn’t had to work so hard for self-confidence?  What if I could have kept that early childhood enthusiasm and creativity?  What if I hadn’t turned inward in the face of constant bullying in elementary school?  What could I have accomplished?  What if?  That is what this picture represents:  possibility. Unadultered possibility.

Camp

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Camp Russell – Thanksgiving 1982

Ah.  Camp!  Such a loaded small word.  First and foremost, there is camping with family and friends.  Even though my parents owned and operated two campgrounds and a canoe livery, I didn’t grow up camping much in the traditional sense.  Even if we didn’t camp much, the overnight canoe trips we took with Dad (Mom was one and done!) were legendary.  I think about the planning that went into our trips and how we broke the “rules” and threw a tube in with our gear – Erica and I taking turns tubing for a bit; Dad pretending to leave me in the dust when it was my turn, waiting for me around the next bend.  Mrs. Taylor would be waiting for us at Cedar Springs with ice cream cones.

Over the years, I attended the National Turner Syndrome Camp, memorized Bible verses at church camp, spent endless hours playing with cousins at deer camp(s) (there were deer camps on each side of my family), helped run 4-H day camps for elementary students, and ended up with my picture in the paper participating in a local Vacation Bible School day camp.  I also attended Camp Oak Hills as a Brownie, my first time away from home aside from spending the night at my grandparents’ house, and the Broad Business Student Camp (BBSC) at Michigan State, which led to my decision to attend the Eli Broad College of Business (hence the name) at Michigan State University to study supply chain management.  Quite simply, much of my life as a child and young adult – indeed, some of my best memories – involved camp in some way, shape, or form.  I would not be the same person without it.

Each August, Grandma and Grandpa Buttrick would take us grandkids to Kenton in the Upper Peninsula (almost to Watersmeet) for a week, the site of a hunting camp passed down on Grandpa’s side for generations, the land originally homesteaded by my Forward ancestors.  We spent the week visiting waterfalls, riding the hills around camp, swimming in and hiking around Tippy Lake, traveling into the tiny village of Kenton itself to visit the grocery store/library/post office, and holding target practice with Grandpa using a pellet gun.  At night, there were hot games of Uno and Spoons around the living room table.  As a kid, there is nothing better than sharing a bunk room with your siblings and cousins!

So many camp memories stand out.  As a child attending church camp at Bayshore Camp in Michigan’s Thumb, I first experienced tipping over in a canoe.  As a tween, I paired up with a boy I didn’t know well.  In spite of explaining that I had years of canoeing experience as my parents’ owned a campground and canoe livery, he insisted on steering.  Inevitably, we ended up in the lake, the coolness of the lake hopefully camouflaging my rising anger.  I have never forgotten.

My friend Brenna and I outside of King Mountain Ranch in Estes Park, Colorado.
The 2nd Annual National Turner Syndrome Camp 1996.

Years later, as a teen, I attended the National Turner Syndrome Camp at King Mountain Ranch in Estes Park, Colorado.  I met other teen girls who faced the same physical, emotional, and social challenges as me for the first time.  Words fail me other than to say that those experiences at King Mountain Ranch filled me with a confidence that I would not have had otherwise.  One of my favorite memories is of how my friends and I scared ourselves silly watching The Shining after learning that the movie was filmed nearby.  It is still my favorite horror movie and my favorite Stephen King novel.  Those two years attending the National Turner Syndrome Camp still mean so much decades later. Most of all, I hope children of all ages have the opportunity to experience camp in all its forms.  Those varied experiences not only added to my education in invaluable ways, but they shaped the person I am today in countless ways.

18

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I LOVE all of the items on this list! Check it out if you have a few minutes.

What is it about being 18 that makes it so special?  My best guess is that 18 represents a sweet spot.  While childhood is largely behind you at 18, you are legally an adult.  There are few things that one is not old enough to do at 18 – with the exception of legally drinking, renting a car, or reserving a hotel room.  Yet, there are plenty of youthful years left.  At the same time, high school is now behind you – or about to be.  It is time to look ahead.  Many 18 year olds have yet to figure out exactly what they want to do when it comes to a career or post-secondary education.  The possibilities are endless.

I distinctly remember 18 and being so excited to move on from high school and my hometown.  I could not get to Michigan State fast enough.  A lot of time, preparation, and hard work made my years at Michigan State a success.  My wish for all 18 year olds and all members of the class of 2024 is for them to experience that sense of wonder and endless possibility for themselves.

Vitamin C – Graduation (Friends Forever) (1999)

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Vitamin C – Graduation (Friends Forever) (1999) (Video) (Lyrics)

(Written February 12, 2024)

I came across the video for “Graduation (Friends Forever)” by accident this past weekend.  Sometimes nostalgia slaps you so hard in the face that it cannot be ignored.  While I can’t say that “Graduation (Friends Forever)” was ever a favorite, it did leave an impression when it first came out during the spring of 1999.  How could it not?  I graduated from high school in 1999, and quite frankly, the target audience.

In the midst of watching classic videos from the 80s and 90s, YouTube saw fit to suggest “Graduation.”  Thinking “why not?,” I found myself transported back 25 years.  What struck me most about the video wasn’t the song at all.  Frankly, I still find it way too saccharine.  Instead, I thought about how I could have guessed the year from any still photo from the video. Not a cell phone in sight.

It cracked me up.  The video definitely fit the late 90s aesthetic that we all thought so bleeding edge at the time.  In fact, the girl’s outfit in the video, the layered yellow tank top with the orange/yellow slip skirt, reminded me of one of my go-to outfits in 2001.  The only difference?  I didn’t layer tank tops.  Instead, I wore a jean jacket over a yellow tank top.  I remember it vividly because I loved that outfit and that look so much at the time.  Maybe it is time to bring it back.

While I can’t say that I loved or even liked high school (I couldn’t wait to graduate and move on), it is fun to look back from time to time.  After watching the video, it hit me that this June will mark 25 years since I graduated from high school.  How?  Just how? Interestingly, “Wear Sunscreen,” a spoken-word release based upon an essay, became popular during the spring of 1999 as well, even though it dates to 1997.  See below.

The advice still holds.

“Ladies and Gentlemen … to the Class of 1999 … “

Not The End, The Beginning – Part 3

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Cousin fun on the Rifle River, Omer, Michigan. June 2023

Part 1

Part 2

This year will mark my 12th year back working at Russell Canoe Livery.  Each year, I love it even more and appreciate what my parents and grandparents built.  Without the canoe livery, pursuing my teaching career, and student teaching in particular, would not have been possible.  None of it would have been an option.  Only when I returned to the family business in 2013 did I fully understand just how much my mom contributed to the canoe livery.  After retiring from teaching in 2010, Mom became more involved in the business.  Only in 2013 did I begin to take over some of her responsibilities.  I had to reconsider what I wanted and the narrative I had created for myself.

Growing up, I always looked up to my dad and Grandpa Buttrick.  Both businessmen, I saw how both had created a life for themselves using family businesses.  In Dad’s case, the seasonal nature of the canoe livery allowed him to pursue other interests and provide us with a great quality of life.  As his sidekick, I grew up watching Dad making decisions about the business.  Prior to building the Crystal Creek shower house in 1992, I went with him to check out similar showerhouses.  One of my earliest memories is going with Dad in his truck to unclog the artesian well across the road in Crystal Creek Campground.  I used to argue with him when Erica and I would catch the bus from our house behind Crystal Creek to our main location in Omer.  He, of course, wanted us to ride in his bus.  Knowing that he wouldn’t let me bounce around in the back of the bus, I wanted to ride with anyone else.  Dad often won.

Grandpa Buttrick, on other hand, moved his young family from Marshall, Michigan to Standish, Michigan to take over his grandfather’s business:  Forward Corporation.  On our yearly trip to the Upper Peninsula with my Buttrick grandparents and cousins, we always had to stop in Gaylord to check on his convenience stores.  He loved the business, and due to a unique set of circumstances, I managed one of his convenience stores for a few years.  Through that experience, I learned just why he loved that business so much.  If I hadn’t moved back to Michigan in 2005, I would not have had the opportunity to get to know Grandpa Buttrick so well before he passed away in 2007.  Like teaching, business runs deep in my blood.

Late 90s at Russell Canoe Livery.
Hard at work!

When I graduated in 1999, I attended Michigan State University to pursue a business degree in supply chain management.  I quickly decided to pursue a Spanish degree too.  I couldn’t give it up.  Both of my older cousins earned degrees in supply chain management from MSU as well.  I knew the program, and frankly, the subject still fascinates me.  Even though I didn’t end up with a long career in supply chain, those experiences during my years at MSU made a deep impression on me and still shape how I view the world.

The processes of working so closely with my parents on all things relating to the canoe livery and establishing my teaching career gave me a whole new appreciation for my mom.  I will never understand how she taught kindergarten for 15 years.  Two half-days substitute teaching in kindergarten were more than enough for me.

As time went on, I slowly realized that the canoe livery would not have been nearly as successful without Mom and Grandma Reid.  Dad may have had the vision and made it happen, but it would not have been possible without great customer service provided by us all.  I may have grown up wanting to follow in Dad and Grandpa Buttrick’s footsteps, but I followed in my mom’s instead.  I just faced a different set of circumstances.

Not The End, The Beginning – Part 2

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Not The End, The Beginning – Part 1

When I went back to school in January 2014, just over 10 years ago, I admit, the idea of being an older student intimidated me, especially online courses.  When I graduated from Michigan State University (MSU) in 2004, online courses were not nearly as developed as they are now.  Due to a combination of landing a full-time position in Houston, Texas within a week of graduation, moving across the country, my stubbornness, and adjusting to working in corporate America full-time, my first experience with online classes did not go well.  That early negative experience stayed with me.  Fortunately, I adapted.

During the academic year, I planned to attend class and work on coursework two to three days a week while substitute teaching as much as possible.  To add insult to injury, I didn’t just take classes at Saginaw Valley State University (SVSU).  No, I decided to enroll at Delta College too.

There were two reasons why I enrolled at Delta.  First, realistically, I could save money when compared to SVSU.  Second, I decided to complete a writing certificate while working towards my teaching certificate.  In the end, I had a wonderful experience at Delta College.  My history and writing classes, all taken at Delta, are among my most treasured.

My decision to complete the general writing program at Delta College stemmed from my involvement with Mid-Michigan Writers.  I attended their Gateway to Writing workshop in the fall of 2013.  That day, I happened to hear a group of Jeff Vande Zande’s students talking about how much they enjoyed his class and the wonderful writing program at Delta.  Vande Zande, who happened to be the keynote speaker that day, taught a screenwriting class at the time.  A few years later, his screenwriting class changed the way I look at movies forever.

At SVSU, I had to decide which secondary endorsements I planned to pursue.  In addition to Spanish, I had to choose between social studies and English.  Social studies won.  In 2019, I started a new position as a middle school teacher at St. Michael School and began taking classes to earn my English endorsement.  As with so many things in my life, I didn’t want to have to decide between two great options, so I didn’t.  I did both.  In spite of a pandemic, scheduling conflicts, and other considerations, I finally completed my English endorsement in May 2023.

In the end, I resigned my position in order to finally complete my English endorsement.  As incredible as it seems, SVSU, even in the aftermath of a global pandemic, offered no online or evening options for the two classes I still needed.  It wasn’t the only reason I left St. Mike’s, but I knew if I didn’t, I’d never be able to finish.  It ended up being for the best.

Sadly, that summer, approximately a month after I resigned, the assistant principal at St. Mike’s – and so, so much more – passed away.  It is safe to say that my life would be very different without Norma Vallad.  I certainly would not have landed at St. Mike’s without her involvement.  So much of our school culture revolved around her down to every last detail.  I still can’t imagine St. Mike’s without her.  Fortunately, I didn’t have to face that prospect in the fall.

By the time I finished my English endorsement last May, I felt such a deep sense of closure.  After all these years, no more educational pursuits to chase – unless, of course, someone would like to pay for a masters degree or PhD.  As far as I am concerned, I have nothing left to prove.

Teaching left me conflicted.  On one hand, I had come way too far to give up on teaching.  Yet, my first full year of teaching coincided with the Covid 19 pandemic.  I saw first hand how the pandemic affected teachers, students, parents, administrators, and everyone else.  The apathy I saw and experienced still haunts me.  As I reconsidered my role and future in education, little did I know that the best was yet to come.

Stay tuned for Part 3 …

Not The End, The Beginning – Part 1

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I started this journey just over 10 years ago, and with all of the setbacks and triumphs along the way, every last step led to where I am now:  Exactly where I belong.  Actually, it started earlier than that.  It all started with a conversation.

On an average evening well over a decade ago, I found myself deep in a conversation with my ex’s mom that changed my perspective, and my life, for the better.  As she was making dinner, she brought up the fact that she wished she’d gone back to school to become a nurse.  All I could think at the time is that I would do everything in my power to prevent having such a regret later on in life.  Somewhere along the line, as I drove by Saginaw Valley State University’s beautiful campus, it hit me:  As much as I wanted to deny it, I am a teacher.

In fact, that fact became a bone of contention.  When my ex, our relationship already in shambles, found out that I planned to go back to school to become a teacher, he knew exactly which buttons to push, exactly the wrong thing to say.  He felt that I wanted to become a teacher simply because my mom and sister are teachers.  He had it exactly wrong.  I wanted to become a teacher in spite of that fact.  I knew intimately the challenges teachers face and have faced for decades.  I know how little respect teachers get within our society.  I grew up hearing how ineffective teacher preparation programs were and can be.  I know how the sausage is made, and yet, I still wanted to be a teacher.

Above all, I am not my mother or my sister.  My interest in education is not the same as theirs.  Both were meant to be elementary school teachers.  Me?  Never!  I adore young children, but I much prefer to work with teenagers, particularly older teenagers getting ready for the next step in their lives.  My mom fell into the profession, and fortunately for her, it suited her well and worked out.  Even though she’s been retired for well over a decade, I know what a wonderful teaching legacy she leaves behind.  In fact, I am proud to be a part of it.  I landed in her 6th grade social studies class.

My sister Erica, on the other hand, knew that she wanted to be a teacher her entire life.  We’d play school frequently.  With my love of books, I’d be the school librarian.  Erica would be the teacher, of course, while our much younger brother Garrett would be the one and only student.  Erica may still have some of those early report cards that she made for Garrett.

It is certainly true that teaching is in my blood.  My sister and I come from a long line of teachers on our mother’s side going back at least five generations.  As interesting as that is, it doesn’t stop there.  Both of my mom’s grandmothers taught.  My mom’s older sister Tara taught for her entire career.  Grandma B. earned her teaching certificate, even though she never taught, choosing instead to stay home and raise her five daughters.  Her younger sister, Joyce, taught for decades in the earliest grades.  I could go on.

My dad’s family valued education as well.  Both my dad and his sister married teachers.  He has several cousins who work (and worked) in agricultural education and special education in various capacities.  Even though my paternal grandparents never had the opportunity to pursue college educations, they encouraged their children to do so.  In fact, my grandma valued her education so much that her school memories were some of the last to go in the face of dementia.  Stories I will never forget.  In fact, I doubt I would have had the opportunity to go back to school to earn my teaching certificate without Grandma Reid’s influence.

So, why did I go back to school to earn my teaching certificate?  It is quite simple.  I knew that if I didn’t, I would regret it for the rest of my life.  My life would be unfulfilled.  It has not been an easy journey, to say the least, but I am now exactly where I am supposed to be.  Stay turned.  This is just the beginning.