One of my biggest projects this school year – so far – is to establish a creative writing club for our high school. I started with a vision and my previous experience of working with my teacher bestie, Dorri, to start a writing club at my previous school. To say that I learned from that experience is an understatement.
In that club Dorri and I worked to establish at St. Michael School, we dealt with technology issues, age differences (serving young middle grade students as well as middle school students), not to mention the hazards of the COVID 19 pandemic. It is crazy to think that we achieved anything at all. Yet, we did in a small way, even if the larger St. Michael community didn’t always recognize it.
We may have had a small core of roughly half a dozen students, but they were truly interested. They eagerly learned from one another. My 7th and 8th students demonstrated patience with Dorri’s 3rd graders, many of whom were just learning how to more fully express themselves in writing, expanding their thinking along with their vocabulary. Dorri’s 3rd graders brought enthusiasm and fresh perspectives to their older peers’ projects.
When I started at Michigan Virtual Charter Academy this past fall, I knew that I wanted to become involved in some kind of club. While I knew that we had a well-developed esports program, I didn’t exactly know what other clubs were offered. It turned out that while we offer an academic creative writing class, we did not have a creative writing club. Well, I sought to change that. So far, I have succeeded.
At the beginning of the school year, I focused on creating an online classroom full of resources I could have only dreamed of as a high school student in love with writing. There are dozens of websites to explore, hundreds of writing prompts, inspiring quotes, book recommendations, and so much more. Then, I watched over several weeks as my students connected and explored common interests. They grew as writers and found the confidence to share their work and a little bit about themselves. Students then spent much of the semester writing pieces intended for eventual publication, likely a blog. What happened next, I did not see coming.
We may have to wait until next school year to publish anything, but not only are both the principal and assistant principal extremely supportive, our head of school now knows about the project. In fact, I’ve received nothing but positive feedback. Right now, I am working on helping to ensure we keep moving ahead in the right direction. Who knows where this will take us? Already, I have had two new club members join in the first few weeks of this new semester. They’ve fit in seamlessly, which is a testament to the culture my students created. I am incredibly proud of what they’ve achieved!
I did not set out to become a teacher, I left that to my younger sister Erica. As her older sister, I’ve never known her to want to be anything other than a teacher and a mother. I envied the fact that she was so certain about her desired profession, not to mention her dedication to her love of children. When we played school – and we did often – I ended up being the school librarian while she insisted on being the teacher. Until our younger brother was born when I was age 10 and Erica age 7, we didn’t have a single pupil. By the time he was two, Erica made our toddler brother a series of report cards, grading him on things like “listening” and “sitting still.” But, this isn’t my sister’s story. It is mine.
My story of pursuing a career as a secondary teacher is by no means conventional. In fact, it is so unconventional and challenging that I would recommend it to no one. If it weren’t for the facts that teaching is in my DNA and I am meant to be a teacher, I would have given up long, long ago. Instead, I doubled-down when I was faced with what at the time seemed to be insurmountable obstacles. I even went back to substitute teaching when needed while deciding what my next step would be. I am a better person, and teacher, for it.
Every story needs to start somewhere, and mine starts with the statement that teaching is in my blood. It truly is. As a genealogist, as far as I can tell, the teaching tradition goes back at least five generations on my mom’s side of the family. It likely goes back even further. Both of Mom’s grandmothers taught, and one of her grandfathers served as principal of his daughters’ elementary school, as well as coach.
Interestingly, the teaching careers of my great-grandmothers could not have been more different. I knew both Grammy Bea (Beatrice Williams), who taught kindergarten and first grade for decades at the height of the baby boom, and Great (Leona Buttrick), who taught in a one-room schoolhouse and quit teaching once she married my great-grandfather Hatley. Although these are stories for another time, their careers illustrate massive changes in public education.
Funnily enough, the teaching tradition isn’t exactly confined to mom’s side of the family. Even though neither of my dad’s parents had the opportunity to further their education, they highly encouraged their children to do so. Both did, and even though my dad and his sister didn’t necessarily see eye-to-eye on much of anything, I find it telling that they both married teachers. On the Suszko side of Dad’s family, there are several special education and agricultural teachers. In fact, my cousin Kristy, a woman with whom I attended school at all levels from kindergarten to college, now teaches dairy science at the university level.
As much as I did not want to admit it, I am a teacher. It took me far too long to make peace with that fact. Something inside me would not let it go. As soon as I graduated from Michigan State in 2004 with degrees in supply chain management and Spanish, my entire world shifted. It would not be made right again until I went back to school in 2013.
It all started during the Great Recession with a casual conversation with my ex’s mom Cindy. We were invited to dinner as usual, and Cindy and I struck up a conversation. She told me that she wished that she’d gone back to school to become a nurse. All I could think at the time was that I did not want to be in my 50s and regret not pursuing an interest. During the Christmas shopping season of 2008, I worked at Best Buy in Saginaw. As I lived in the South End of Bay City at the time, I drove by Saginaw Valley State University (SVSU) every day on my way to work. Slowly, I started to wonder what would happen if I did decide to go back to school to become a teacher. The idea excited me and fed my imagination. How could I make it happen? How would I adjust? Online classes, in their infancy back in 2004, intimidated me.
Eventually, I had the ability to make it happen in 2013. I largely enjoyed my time at Saginaw Valley State University (SVSU), although I would advise commuter students to do their homework. For example, if I had not followed up with my advisor, I would have stressed out about the math portion of the general MTTC exam necessary to even apply to the College of Education. I didn’t necessarily doubt my ability to do higher-level math likely trigonometry and low-level calculus, but I had not remotely touched those subjects in well over a decade. The thought terrified me. Much to my relief, my counselor informed me that I scored high enough on the ACT test I took in high school that I did not need to take the general MTTC at all. I then questioned why I wasn’t informed earlier. She simply stated that it likely stemmed from the fact that I was a commuter and a non-traditional student. While I would highly recommend SVSU to traditional college students coming right from high school, I’m not so sure in other situations.
I enjoyed most of my classes and professors at both Delta College and SVSU, but I can’t say that I didn’t have any bad experiences. In fact, one professor and class at SVSU stands out for all of the wrong reasons. This particular professor taught a class that focused on diversity. However, somehow, throughout the entire semester, he managed to offend nearly everyone in the class. Horribly. He supposedly hated coaches. When I ran into a former classmate in a school setting years later, we naturally discussed this infamous class and professor. This man, who happened to coach as well as teach, informed me that this professor tried to get him removed from the College of Education program, likely because he planned to coach.
Somehow, this professor appeared to have no issue with me or one of my good friends, even though he had long ago deeply offended us both. As we paired up to complete our main teaching project for the course, things fell apart. When it came time to “teach” our project, our professor respected my teaching time and even seemed pleased. Then, he proceeded to continually interrupt my friend and teaching partner for her entire portion of the project. He made it exceedingly difficult for her to even finish. Already extraordinarily introverted, I have no idea how she made it through. Disrespectful doesn’t even begin to cover it. Unfortunately, she never did become a teacher, although she would have been wonderful. Instead, she became a librarian. To this day, I still believe that the world needs introverted teachers too. There are too many people like this professor that discourage future teachers every step of the way before they even get started.
Stay tuned … There is much more to this story.
Not just my favorite TED Talk on education and teaching, my favorite TED Talk period.
Written during the pandemic as an example for a poetry project I assigned my middle school students. They needed to take a line from a favorite song and then use that line to begin a poem.
There are places I remember Places that hold memories long forgotten Long shadows, witnesses to the past Smells that immediately transport me back
Back to a simpler time when we could gather freely Children could be kids Adults accepted responsibility A time when freedom reigned and the republic lived
A black and white portrait here, Kerosene lanterns afixed to the wall Polished glass overlooking the cedar swamp The coziness of a Franklin stove
My sister and I, in curls, smocked dressed, and bows Polished patent leather shoes and all smiles Helping mom and grandma prepare Thanksgiving Waiting for hunters to return and string a buck up on the pole
Living as pioneers until nightfall, the generator roaring to life The bustle and business of extended family Cards, laughter, and love Cousins, forts, and leaves
Memories long buried, decades past Rising each fall with the smoke from burning leaves
Teaching the meaning behind Día de los Muertos was always one of my favorite parts of teaching Spanish. Enjoy the ending of Coco, one of my all-time favorite animated movies.
I just found out today is National Author’s Day. How appropriate! The creative writing club I started at school met this afternoon at the end of the school day. There is never a dull meeting. They are so passionate about their interests, including but not limited to writing. I’ve watched as members have bonded over music and other media. It is inspiring how they support one another, too.
In the online school environment, there aren’t quite as many opportunities to strike up friendships with classmates as in brick and mortar. Personally, I think that is why school clubs are so vital in an online school environment. Last year, my first year teaching online, I watched as students planned for weeks and even months for the in-person prom held at the Lansing Center. Students attended from all over Michigan. The pictures, conversations, and friendships made that evening were discussed repeatedly as the school year came to a close. I can only hope that that same can be said when I reflect on the creative writing club at the end of the school year.
In my first year as mentor and creator of the club, I sought to find the best possible resources for aspiring high school writers. Luckily, my online classroom set aside for our new club allowed me to do just that. It is now a place where students can collaborate, offer one another and seek encouragement, as well as find resources and inspiration. I can only imagine if I had had such a resource in high school. I admit, I’ve had too much fun setting things up. So far, my entire experience with the creative writing club has underscored the importance of community as a writer.
Face it: Writing can be lonely work. Over the years, I’ve always enjoyed meeting other writers. I can’t imagine where I’d be as a writer without Mid-Michigan Writers. I’ve learned so much from other members over the years, and I would not have discovered Delta College’s general writing certificate program if I hadn’t attended MMW’s Gateway to Writing workshop with other writers who raved about the experience. If my students take away anything from our creative writing club, I do hope that they realize the importance of community for writers. Brainstorming works best with others! At some point, we could all use a second opinion. We all have to learn from someone. I can’t imagine not having my very own community of writers and readers. Happy National Author’s Day!
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.
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.
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.
I am ashamed to admit it, but I have yet to fully read one of Anne-Marie Oomen’s memoirs or books of poetry, even though I own two of her books (signed) and have attended a couple of her writing sessions (one for teachers and other, this past spring, open to the general public), as well as a reading from her latest book, As Long As I Know You: The Mom Book. I’ve only read and heard snippets of her work … so far.
What I’ve read and heard thus far is wonderful, and knowing the topics/subjects/genre included in many of her books, I know that I will love them. How could I not purchase a book titled Love, Sex, and 4-H? Then there is As Long As I Know You: The Mom Book. I can’t wait to read it. The passages that she read during her author event, along with the anecdotes she shared about herself, her mom, and writing the book, definitely left me hooked.
What I really want to discuss today is her capacity as a teacher. Just over a month prior to the shutdown orders signaling the official start of the pandemic, I had the opportunity to attend a day-long writing program aimed at teachers. Titled “Homecoming: Coming Home,” it was sponsored by the Saginaw Bay Writing Project. Anne-Marie Oomen happened to be one of the presenters that morning.
During her allotted time, she taught us the term ekphrasis – a method of using different works of art to create various forms of writing, whether poetry, personal essay, or short story. Imagine studying a painting and then creating a poem from your experience. That is ekphrasis.
After explaining the process and providing us with examples of her own work, Anne-Marie Oomen had us create our own art inspired piece. She brought with her a large collection of postcards. I chose one with a portrait of Annie Oakley on the front, “little sure-shot.” I enjoyed the experience and still have a digital copy of her presentation from that day. I left realizing that I could easily create vision boards on Pinterest to gather my thoughts and ideas for various writing projects.
Anne-Marie Oomen used the painting Nighthawks by Edward Hopper to demonstrate the process of ekphrasis.
As wonderful as that experience was, a few months ago I learned that Anne-Marie Oomen was to be a guest scholar at Saginaw Valley State University. During that time, she conducted a similar writing session open to the general public at the Marshall Fredericks Museum on SVSU’s campus. I am so glad that I attended. It made me look at one of my favorite museums in an entirely different light. I left with a notebook full of ideas and even a rough draft. The following evening, Anne-Marie Oomen held a reading at the Wirt Public Library in Bay City, sharing snippets from As Long As I Know You: The Mom Book. I’m so glad that I attended as it brought back so many memories of the short few months I had living with Grandma Reid before she needed more care than I could provide. It is never easy watching someone you love age and decline.
I took something away from each of Anne-Marie Oomen’s events. On top of sharing her love and knowledge of writing, she is a wonderful teacher. Better yet … she is a Michigan author willing to help aspiring writers and teachers.
Anne-Marie Oomen’s latest book As Long as I Know You: The Mom Book details her experience dealing with her relationship with aging mother.
In March 2020, during Lent, this piece of art featured prominently outside my classroom door. When we left school that fate Friday, March 13th, no one realized that we wouldn’t see each other in person for months.
Growing up, I always wanted to live through a historic event. Unfortunately, little did I know what life had in store for me. Now in my early 40s, I am amazed when I stop to think about what historic events I have lived through already – and how different the world is from when I grew up. I vividly remember the Cold War; the fall of the Berlin Wall; both the first and second Gulf Wars; September 11th, 2001; the War in Afghanistan; and of course, the COVID 19 pandemic.
A year after September 11th, 2001, that somber anniversary inspired me to write about my experiences on that fateful day. That entire morning is etched in my memory. At the time, I had just started my semester studying abroad in Quito, Ecuador a couple of weeks before. I was still learning my routine and adjusting to my new host family. September 11th colored that entire experience as there was no way it could not. While I didn’t write much for the 9/11 digital archive, what I did write sets the scene and provides a glimpse into what US exchange students were dealing with all over the world. My full story can be found at The September 11 Digital Archive, story6757.xml.
This past spring, a conversation with a fellow writer made me realize that I could do the same with my experiences throughout the pandemic. I found a place to archive all of my writing relating to the pandemic, past and future – A Journal of a Plague Year. I may include some videos I have from that time frame as well. It may become a cool little side project. I’m definitely looking forward to it. Maybe I’ll be able to finally put all that the pandemic disturbed and disrupted behind me.
There are SO many things that stand out. That first awful week of the shutdown during which I had to go to school, alone, and pack up all of my 6th graders belongings (pictured below). The conversation that I had with Norma and Ashley as school dismissed that awful Friday, March 13th of Lent, not realizing that we would not see each other in person for months, will always be remembered.
In the weeks following our last in-person day of school (March 13th, 2020), as a teacher, I had to pack up my students belongings and prepare them for pickup by parents. Each teacher had an assigned time to be in the building.Doing so in the middle of the stay at home order, not knowing when I would see students, teachers, and staff again, was nothing less than surreal.
That weekend, my mom had had several old high school friends over for a get-together. The venue changed from a friend’s house to my mom’s in order to limit contact with her friend’s disabled and susceptible son. All so very strange and new. Keep in mind that this is just before the stay at home order was issued for Michigan.
After I learned that we would not be going back to school the following Monday, I just packed clothes and headed to my parents’ house. I didn’t know what else to do. I would stay there with them well into May/June. What I remember most is that I happened to catch some of my mom’s friends, some of my favorite people, before they left. It would be the last time I would see them for several months.
I could easily keep going. The spring of 2020 also represented the end of my first full year of teaching, my first 6th grade class. Definitely not the way I wanted to start off my teaching career. Personally, I believe the education system is still reeling from the shutdown. Students and teachers are still trying to pick up the pieces.
This is just a glimpse of what I plan to share and document. I hope that I inspire others to do the same.
Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde 