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.
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.
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.
Have you ever fallen so in love with a place that you still dream about it years later – and you fall so in love with your memories of that particular time and place that you instinctively know that reality will never come close to what you remember? It can happen. In 2002, I fell in love with Austin, Texas. In reality, I fell in love with a time and place that no longer exists.
It started out innocently enough. When I began planning my year abroad – one semester in Quito, Ecuador and another in Caceres, Spain – I knew that I would also need to make plans for the summer after Spain. I lucked out. The spring of my sophomore year at Michigan State, I landed a position as a paid intern at IBM in Rochester, Minnesota. I must have been on a roll that semester because I also landed a paid co-op opportunity (6 month contract) with Applied Materials (AMAT) in Austin, Texas. Ultimately, I accepted the position with IBM and asked Applied Materials if I could pursue the co-op opportunity the following summer/fall. They said yes, and I left East Lansing for a series of adventures that would take me away from campus for over a year and a half. I was well on my way to pursuing several of my dreams at once, including a career in tech.
My time in Austin did not start off well. When I arrived in June 2002, I didn’t know anyone. I ended up subletting my first apartment from a UT student. It was OK, but my only roommate in our four bedroom apartment spent all of her time with her boyfriend. Often the only trace of Carly was the reeking skunk smell of pot. Soon, things would change.
The first week or two at Applied consisted of orientation classes and touring facilities in what’ve been loving termed bunny suits. What I loved about AMAT was their place in the tech industry. We didn’t make the chips; we made the machines that make the chips. After a long day of orientation, an engineer I’d just met, Melissa, asked if I wanted to go get a drink and have dinner after work. Little did I know just how much she would impact my time in Austin.
Melissa and I became fast friends over dinner. Once I began describing my experiences studying abroad in Ecuador and Spain, she began telling me about her former coworker at Motorola, Andy, a fellow engineer. She thought that we should met, and frankly, I think she was trying to set us up. There was only one catch: Andy was currently exploring Machu Picchu in Peru and wouldn’t be home for some time. It would be worth the wait.
In the meantime, on July 24th, 2002, on my way to work, a huge moving truck made a left-hand turn in front of me when I had the green light. He hadn’t seen me. In the accident, I broke my big toe and the metatarsal. The molding on the driver’s side door of my car also sliced me behind my ear. If I had had a passenger, he or she probably would not have survived. In the aftermath of the accident, things somehow came together. My mom flew out to Austin to help me find a lawyer and a new car. She couldn’t believe how well I knew the city even though I had only been there just over a month. I had to help navigate in the days before Google Maps due to my cast.
By the time I had a walking cast, all bets were off. I quickly found out that the six month sublease I’d been promised was really only for three. Livid, I needed a new place to live within a few weeks. In the end, I found a much better place to live just in time thanks to Applied Material’s internal listings. The months living with Karen and her toddler son were great. It was almost as if I had the good fortune to live with a fun aunt for several months. Things were finally looking up.
In all the chaos of the accident and moving, I finally met Andy. We ended up on a blind date at the type of place that could only exist in Austin – Flipnotics. The first floor was a quirky retail t-shirt shop. The second floor included a restaurant/bar with a small performance space for live music. We were there for the music. I wish I had a video of Andy’s face when I opened my car door. He was horrified to realize that I had a walking cast up to my knee and that he had invited me to a venue requiring climbing a large set of stairs. Fortunately, we hit it off right away.
One of the best things about Austin, then and now, is the live music. It isn’t called the live music capital of the world for nothing. Andy was the perfect companion with whom to check it all out. It turns out that as a hobby Andy had a radio show – ATX Live – on the local co-op radio station KOOP. Soon I would met his friend and manager Cheryl. Andy would later serve as president of KOOP for several years. It isn’t every day that a man you admire and respect introduces you to someone who soon becomes one of your best friends. That is precisely what happened.
Over the next few months, Andy, Cheryl, and I had numerous adventures. I admit, I had a huge crush on Andy by this time. Cheryl did her best to try to get us to end up together, but it wasn’t meant to be. However, the fun I had that late summer and fall are never to be forgotten. The three of us attended the first Austin City Limits Festival in Zilker Park. Cheryl “conveniently” couldn’t join us the second day. The antics that took place that weekend are stories in themselves that belong with other songs. At the end of the festival, Andy and I ended up at a favorite local restaurant called Shady Grove. As it was within walking distance of the festival, we had to order takeout and eat/drink on the lawn, it was that crowded.
Andy and I on the lawn of Shady Grove. – August 2002 First Annual Austin City Limits Festival
Later, Andy had LASIK surgery, and unfortunately, it didn’t go as planned. He ended up blinded for a week. As it was near his birthday, Cheryl and I threw him a party at his house once he regained his sight. I finally got to meet a bunch of his friends, coworkers, etc. It ended with Andy having to smooth things over with local cops late in the evening. Our “dress to be seen”/birthday party was a complete success.
As Halloween approached, Andy asked if I wanted to go to a house party hosted by local musician Chelle Murrey. Once we arrived, I dressed as a gypsy and Andy dressed as Zorro, Andy told me that he had a surprise for me. It turned out that a Beatles’ tribute band were going to play at the party, and knowing that I was a Beatles’ fan, he wanted me to have the opportunity to check them out first. I will never forget it. I bought Chelle’s CD that evening, and even though the music hasn’t quite held up, it will always remind me of Austin.
Shortly after one more party – this time a birthday/going home/Christmas party for me in mid-December at Karen’s house – I had to pack up my new-to-me 2002 silver Grand Prix and make the long journey home – alone. I arrived back in Michigan right before my birthday and Christmas. A year and half and a thousand adventures later, I would be returning to Michigan State in January 2003 to finish my degrees. I would graduate in May 2004. I never wanted to leave Austin behind.
Chelle Murrey’s album Uncomplicated
On December 15th, 2002, a cold, foggy day in Austin, I left, listening to Chelle Murrey, trying to keep it all together. Austin represented everything I wanted after graduation – a good job, great friends, beautiful place to live, and for the first time in my life, a social life that actually felt like me.
My senior year at MSU, I did everything in my power to land in Austin. I made it to second round interviews with both Dell and Applied Materials. Unfortunately, my manager at AMAT left a few weeks before I did. He didn’t even get a chance to do my review before he left, that was left to someone I had only known for a week. In essence, I had no one on the inside fighting for me. Only half of the engineers and supply chain grads were hired. Sadly, I wasn’t one of them.
I did put my time back in Austin to good use, however. I met up with Andy and finally told him how I felt. In essence, he told me that he viewed me as a little sister. He explained that he was at a completely different stage in life. At 22, devastated doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. Looking back, I completely understand where he was coming from at that point. At 29 and about to finish his MBA, he already owned his own home and was established in his career. I still needed to finish undergrad.
It is funny how I should have seen it coming. He bought me a cowgirl hat at the Austin City Limits Festival because he was afraid I was going to fry otherwise. As cold weather set in, he warned me about trying to drive on ice in Texas. In essence, I may know how to drive on ice being from Michigan, but others in Texas do not. My dad would have been impressed.
Today, Andy is married and still lives in Austin, now owning his own business. I’d love to track down Cheryl. I have a feeling that if we were able to catch up after all these years, it would be as if no time had passed at all. The only person with whom I am in contact is Karen, who keeps reminding me from time to time that Austin has changed – and not for the better.
In essence, this is a love letter to the Austin I knew in 2002. Some of my favorite landmarks and haunts, namely Flipnotics and Shady Grove, no longer exist. I still follow AMAT and the semiconductor industry. How could I not after 2020? The Austin City Limits Festival has grown beyond all recognition. I can only imagine how the city has changed and evolved. I just hope that it is still as weird as I remember and remains a welcoming place for young undergrads trying to find their place in the adult world. Those memories of Austin will always be a part of me.
It is no secret that fall is my favorite season. The hustle and craziness that is the canoe livery during the summer comes to a swift end once school starts. There is nothing quite like it. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year. No matter what I am doing, there are always new routines come September. While I will eventually be returning to the classroom as a substitute teacher (within the next few weeks), I am taking this year to tie up several loose ends, namely my teacher certification in English (secondary). I have two classes yet to complete – the first of which started on Tuesday. I admit it: I LOVE being a student, even if taking classes at the undergrad level makes me feel old. It is sobering to realize that I am old enough to be my classmates’ mother. Although, as my mom pointed out, I would have been a young mother. As for my plans, there are also some surprises in store, so stay tuned!
This year, I want to take the time to put things in place for the canoe livery next summer. I’m in the perfect spot to do so. I have the knowledge, time, and interest. I just hope that it all pays off. Frankly, I am proud of what I have accomplished in the ten years I’ve been back at the canoe livery. I’ve created Facebook pages for both of our locations, which are thriving; redid our website, and then outsourced it once I realized my limitations; and implemented Canoebook. We’ve grown, evolved, and faced huge, unforeseen challenges as a family. I’ve also worked on our supply chain. I will always look at things from a supply chain perspective (much more on that later). Hopefully, after some tweaks, Canoebook will be even better. Yet another project to complete before May. Let’s face it: I am the IT department of Russell Canoe Livery (with a little help, of course). Thankfully, I enjoy it.
As I thought about what I wanted to write today, as I reread some of my previous blogposts, I kept coming back to the same themes: 1. Writing about the writing process, 2. My love of new beginnings, and 3. Carpe Diem (seize the day – cue Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society). I can’t help myself. The writing process fascinates me, and I am constantly learning, even when I wasn’t active here. This point in my life truly is a new beginning – or it at least feels like one. As for Carpe Diem, well … I lost a dear friend this summer to pancreatic cancer and recently a former classmate and her family lost everything in a house fire (including her husband, another classmate). I’ve watched over the last couple of years as my dad wrote and then published a book on his life. Speaking of my dad, he continues to set a great example in terms of going after what one wants out of life, even if we don’t agree on everything. I just need to follow it. It is time to get to work.
Thank you for reading, for staying with me. Welcome back!
By mid-June, things were starting to come together at the canoe livery … but would our customers return? Boy, did they! We had a wedding at our main location in Omer towards the end of June. After the wedding, with one more weekend in June left, we became increasingly busy, experiencing volume rivaling what we normally experience mid-to-late July or even early August. True to form, we remained busy right up until the mid-August.
Normally, this would be welcomed and wouldn’t have been an issue. However, this year, thanks to COVID, we didn’t have adequate time to properly prepare. During a “normal” year, we have much of June to prepare for the crowds. Things ramp up during June until it becomes crazy from the 4th of July until mid-August. Well, we lost that time to hire and train. We had a week, maybe two, before we started to become that busy. Add in the pressure of new safety precautions, difficulty in getting merchandise, and rebuilding from the flood, and one gets a sense of why it became so stressful. I feel as though I have been running a marathon since May.
Please don’t get me wrong. I am eternally grateful that our business not only survived but grew during COVID. I refrain from saving thrive because it would not be sustainable long-term. Simply too many hours and too much work in such a short period of time. Still, it haunts me that so many small businesses didn’t survive or are in danger of closing permanently. All I could think of this spring is the decades of work the canoe livery represents – my family history and my personal history. It would not exist if not for the hard work, dedication, foresight, and planning of my parents, my grandparents, and now my brother and I, along with countless others over the years. So much in my life simply would not have been possible without the canoe livery. In it, I see my future. Whether I like it or not, the canoe livery and the Rifle River is a part of me. The very idea of it no longer existing is unimaginable.
If nothing else, I do hope that I have turned the corner and truly have a fresh start this fall. It feels that way. I could use some routine and consistency in my life – along with a healthy dose of “normal” – whatever that is now. It is time to figure out exactly what it is that I want. I know that I have returned to that theme dozens of times here over the years. Yet, I still don’t know.
Who is to say that I will be content to spend the rest of my life alone? If I met the right man – and I repeat here, the right man – I can see myself in a relationship again. Yet, I have a difficult time seeing how I would meet him. Same goes for children. I would love to be a mother. I know I would nail it. Yet just the mere thought of the foster and/or adoption processes is enough to make me want to break out in hives. I know what can go wrong all too well. Maybe it will be time to “jump” sooner rather than later. I do know that I do not want to regret what I didn’t do in my life. Until then …
I’ve always loved fall, but somehow, this time of year just means more this year. I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster (more on that in a minute, and not all entirely COVID related) since mid-March. I want OFF! NOW. I never dreamed that I would help run a business and teach middle school during a pandemic, but here I am. Something I never wanted to add to my bucket list.
As I am smack-dab in the middle of returning to in-person classes for the first time since mid-March, it is SO nice to have some normalcy, particularly after a summer and spring that was anything but “normal.” I missed my students deeply, and I enjoy just observing kids being kids.
So, about this spring and summer … Well, of course, it all started mid-March – that ill-fated Friday the 13th to be exact. As the shutdown deepened, I began to worry about opening the canoe livery for the season. Worry about the survivability of the family business #1. Frankly, it didn’t look good. Just as we, along with pretty much everyone else on the Rifle River, made the decision to open for self-contained camping only during Memorial Weekend, the other shoe dropped.
May 18th-20th, we received close to 7 inches of rain. Dams in nearby Gladwin and Midland counties failed. Fortunately, we did have a little warning thanks to another livery on the river. My parents, brother, and I were able to save much of our technology and merchandise in our store in Omer. Good thing we had that warning. We ended up with 3 feet of water in the store. That wasn’t even the worst part.
During the shutdown, I made the decision to stay with my mom. I don’t think either of us wanted to be alone in our own homes for an extended period of time. My dad was at their cabin in Canada when the shutdown happened, and he didn’t come home immediately. I was over at my parents’ house when the stay-at-home order dropped. Then, it just became habit. What was I supposed to do at home by myself that entire time? Normally, I am rarely at home. I am usually at work, running errands – all kinds of things – none of which I could do during the lockdown.
Anyway, my parents and I watched in May as the Rifle River filled our Crystal Creek Campground near my parents’ home. It nearly reached Pinnacle Bridge, which is amazing in and of itself. Then it happened. I read a Facebook post that stated that the Forest Lake Dam broke. We evacuated my parents’ home. While the Forest Lake Dam isn’t directly on the Rifle River, it would feed into the nearby river if it did break. There simply was no way to predict what would happen if the dam broke. My parents feared losing their home of nearly 40 years, not to mention their business of nearly 45 years. I can still hear the panic in both of my parents’ voices. I hope to never experience anything like again it in my life. Same can be said for most of March through August.
Fortunately, the dam held. We returned to my parents’ home later that day when we received word that the immediate danger had passed. While I haven’t made a habit of watching the local news in decades, I did watch that evening as local affiliates reported as the Edenville and Sanford dams collapsed, devastating Gladwin and Midland counties. I know the area. I used to manage a convenience store in Sanford. I traveled M-30 across the Edenville dam many times. Wixom and Sanford Lakes are no more, and the Tittabawassee River reclaimed its original path. It so easily could have been my family. My parents could have easily lost their home – MY childhood home – and their business that day. So many in Midland and the surrounding area did.
When we were finally able to survey the damage, we were lucky. The flood mainly damaged our main location in Omer this time. Keep in mind that we suffered devastating flood/ice damage – along with tornado damage later that summer – at our Crystal Creek Campground in 2018. In Omer, we lost our propane tank, our ice chest, fencing, and a campsite. Yes, you read that correctly. When our campground – a former mill pond – flooded, the water drained in one area, completely eroding one of our campsites. We had to get excavation work done in order to rebuild. All of this on top of 3 feet of water in our store, bathrooms, and pole barns. The cleanup took nearly a month, delaying our opening. When we were finally able to reopen in mid-June, we didn’t know what to expect.
I will leave off here for now. There is so much more to the story. While I will discuss some aspects of what happened after we reopened another day, there is much more that will have to be left unsaid. So much of what made this summer truly horrendous isn’t even my story to tell.
In my family’s experience with the flood, I watched my parents, my brother, and I come together to make things happen under unprecedented circumstances. COVID made things much more difficult than they needed to be. Something as simple as ordering merchandise for the summer became a nightmare. Yet, it worked. We somehow made it work. That is precisely why I wanted to tell this story.
Above all, I hope all of us – every last person affected by COVID, which is the entire planet – finally get some semblance of normal. We deserve it!
If I have learned anything over the last few weeks, it is that I crave structure. I need it to be productive. I am slowly working on getting back into some type of routine as everything has shifted over the last couple of weeks. Right now, I’m not even sure what it would look like.
I’d love to put tons of time and energy into my Google Classroom now, but Michigan just closed schools for the rest of the school year. Up until this point, I was unable to assign anything for a grade. I could share things I would like my students to look at and do, but that was about it. I did come across some great stuff that I will be using with my students moving forward. Unfortunately, that is the point. Until we can figure out what distance learning will look like at our school, I’m not sure how we will handle students without out devices and internet access. Hopefully, we will know more next week and will be able to move on from there.
I miss and worry about my students. My heart breaks for my 8th graders who will be heading off to high school next year. Will they be ready? We did not get to send them off in the way they need to be sent off – not yet, anyway. I worry less about 6th and 7th graders. I can put things in place to help us fill in gaps next year. It may not be fun, but it might be necessary. I still miss them though, and they are certainly missing out on so much. When we left school on Friday, March 13th – a day I will never forget – I was in the middle of planning a field trip to the Michigan Science Center and the Detroit Institute of Arts. My 6th graders were also supposed to go to Lansing on another field trip in early May – a field trip that never happened last year. 8th graders are also missing out on their last dance, usually put on by 7th grade. Not to mention track and field day, the last events surrounding Lent and Easter, and the wonderful chaos that is the last week of the school year. Oh, and I could cry when I think of what we had planned for March is reading month, most of which never took place, including Prime Time Live Friday Night (originally slated for that ill-fated Friday the 13th) and a poetry café, among so much else.
Then there are the student council events. I am the student council advisor, and my students pleaded with me to plan an end of year event. A trip to an escape room and laser tag were in the works. We were also supposed to have a carnival for younger students during March is reading month, all sponsored and put on by student council. I’m now trying to figure out how we are going to do elections for next year, which take place every spring. I may be able to come up with something there. The point is that everyone who works in or deals with education day-in, day-out – teachers, administrators, volunteers, staff, parents, and certainly students – lost so much over these last few weeks.
I feel as though that goes double for students in Catholic schools. I am not Catholic, and I do not teach religion, but I know what my students are missing at a time when they could use their faith the most. They need guidance when it comes to faith formation, and that is what they are lacking now. I keep thinking … 20 years from now, how I will I explain these times to my students? There are times when I feel at a loss when I try discussing September 11th with current students who were born longer after 2001.
This is not what I wanted or dreamed for my first full year teaching. It just isn’t. I do hope that next year will bring a “normal” year. During the 2018-2019 school year, those of us in Michigan experienced a record number of “cold”/snow days. Something no one experienced before. Now this. I think everyone could use a return to “normal” at this point.
Then there is the canoe livery. Fortunately for us, we don’t truly begin to get busy until the end of June, early July. August keeps getting busier and busier every year. This time of year, we get things ready for opening on Memorial Weekend. We will see what happens. While we can make some progress, in other ways, it is difficult. For example, I can’t finish ordering our t-shirts and sweatshirts at this point. Would it be wise to do so right now with so much uncertainty? Same goes for other merchandise in our stores.
There are so many summer scenarios that are running through my head. I can’t help but think we’d be especially busy if things start returning to normal by early June. If it is towards the end of June, that might put more pressure on already extremely busy weekends. Should we extend our season? Time will tell.
I do know that I will survive. My family will survive. The canoe livery will survive. We’ve weathered so many storms in the past. I keep telling myself how bleak things looked in 2018 in the wake of massive 100-year flooding due to ice. We made it and came back better than ever. Eventually a path will be made clear, and there will be a new “normal.” We all just need to hold on until then.
Why do I write? I write because I must write. I have a story within me that must be told. There may be other ways to tell that story, but writing fits me – and more importantly, it fits the story I need to tell. I’ve dabbled in many forms of writing over the years, everything from daily throw away articles to blogging to academic papers. I view it all as preparation for writing a larger story.
More than anything, writing allows me to organize all the seemingly random thoughts rambling around my head. I love reading what I wrote years ago as it normally takes me back to a certain time and place. It is a way for me to see just how much I’ve grown over the years, both personally and as a writer.
As a teacher, it saddens me when students tell me they hate to read and write. In my mind, my love of writing grew out of my love of reading. I loved to read as a child – and I still love to read. Reading and writing are so intertwined in my life that it is difficult for me to tell where one begins and the other ends. For example, something I plan to write will inspire me to read a certain book. Other times, a book I pick up because it looks good will inspire me to write. One of my all-time favorite books, Reading Like A Writer by Francine Prose, sums up the symbiotic relationship perfectly. In fact, it changed how I read as a writer in every sense of those words. As long as I have books, paper, and pen, I will never be bored.
Writing, to me, also means a sense of community. I’ve taken writing classes at the local community college, spent years as a member of Mid-Michigan Writers, Inc., and attended workshops and seminars for writers. I have yet to meet one writer who didn’t have something to offer others, whether it be a new critique technique, a new source of writing prompts, or information on various programs for writers. As with teachers, writers are happy to share. We can all learn from one another.
The wonderful thing about writing is that it can be personal or shared, solitary or social, and organized or spontaneous. There is room for all types, and there is no one set of rules that apply to everyone. I love that young and old have access to reading and writing. Unlike many sports, there is no expiration date. There is no real barrier to entry other than basic literacy. I like to think that my writing will just get better with age, like a fine wine. It inspires me that many writers did not find their way until late in life. Above all, there is no stopping a great story.
Let’s face it: Good storytelling isn’t going anywhere, whether that means books, movies, television, or something else entirely. As long as there is hunger for a good story, there will be writers. I am proud to be a part of that tradition.
Ever since schools closed on Friday, March 13th, so many people have posted about spring break trips, proms, graduations, and so much more being cancelled and/or postponed. I’ve watched others shame those same people truly grieving their loss by stating things such as “at least you’re healthy” and “how can you think of things at a time like this?” What awful things to say!
While graduations and field trips certainly aren’t the sickness or loss of a loved one – no one is making that comparison – most of us are suffering from loss at this point. We have lost our “normal” and working like hell to get to a “new normal,” whatever that may be. As a teacher, I’m in awe at how teachers have come together. I belong to a Google Classroom group on Facebook, and the activity I’ve witnessed over the last few weeks is unreal. So many strangers, all teachers or in education, coming to help one another help students across the United States and the world. In fact, I’ve had my own crash course over the last few weeks. In fact, that is precisely why I am a teacher, I love to keep learning and then share what I’ve learned with my students.
When all this madness is over, and things return to “normal” – and they will – it is my hope that we are all kinder and gentler with one another. Hopefully this will bring many people closer to God. I also hope that it brings everyone, students included, a new appreciation for their everyday lives. It already has for me. As stressed out as I was at the end of last trimester, I’d love to be worried about planning all the fun things for March is reading month and the end of the school year again. So, I am taking some time to grieve my loss of normal – and you should too. When this is over, we are all going to love on each other and support our neighborhoods, small businesses, and cities, towns, and villages like never before. Personally, I am hoping for a great party out on the river!
All I can say is that there will be time to reschedule those missed spring break trips, make those memories with your seniors, and generally make up for lost time. I am looking forward to that day, and I expect to be so busy that I will be tempted to complain. Until then, I will just keep plugging away.
Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde 