Tag Archives: dreams

Not The End, The Beginning – Part 2

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.

Ghosts of Christmases Past

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It never seems to fail. Come the first week in December, I get overwhelmed with everything that needs to get done before Christmas – decorating, shopping, cards, planning, and so much more. As a teacher, that doesn’t even include everything that needs to be wrapped up before winter break. December, and Christmas in particular, are such a whirlwind of emotion and activity. Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas. In fact, I adore it. My December 18th birthday just adds to it all. The reality that I am another year older doesn’t always help. I am old enough to miss several people who are no longer with us, particularly my grandparents, all of whom loom large in my Christmas childhood memories. Somewhere in the first week of December, I hit a wall, and frankly, I don’t want Christmas to come at all. Yet, it always does, and somehow, everything gets done on time. New memories are made. I just wish that it wasn’t such a messy process.

As with anything else in my life, I have to get over my idea of “perfection.” Who cares if I decorate later? I am decorating just for myself. Who cares if I leave up my Christmas a little longer? I still want to enjoy it once the craziness is over. It is time to move on and continue not caring what others think. It will all work out in the end. I will get plenty of time to spend with family and friends over break, and maybe even a chance to rest.

What is it about the Christmases of our childhood that bring back such vivid memories that we long to recreate? The thing is, it is in my blood. My mom adores Christmas. When mom and dad were newlyweds, she started playing Christmas music in October. After spending nearly a week in the hospital after I was born (yes, I am that old, and my mom was sick when I was born), my parents brought me “home” on Christmas Eve. In fact, they didn’t take me home. They took me directly to Grandma Buttrick’s for the Christmas Eve festivities. I don’t believe we arrived home until the next day.

I often wonder what that Christmas Eve 1980 at Grandma and Grandpa Buttrick’s was like. The only evidence I have that I was there are pictures of my parents holding me as I was decked out as Santa in a Christmas sleeper with a Santa beard bib. I wasn’t even the only one celebrating her first Christmas. My cousin Abby would turn one year old a few months later. It is fitting that we shared a first Christmas, just as we shared so many other childhood memories and fears. Christmas would not be the same without cousins.

As if two babies at Christmas wasn’t enough, 1980 represented the first Christmas in Standish. Earlier that year, Great, my great grandma, moved from Marshall, Michigan to Standish in order to be closer to her sons, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I grew up hearing about all of the epic Christmases in Marshall at Great’s house. My mom and her sisters still marvel at how their mother packed everything for Christmas for five girls and then hauled it all across half the state. I imagine I get the same look in my eyes when I talk about Christmas Eve at Grandma Buttrick’s – or our entire itinerary – that my mom and her sisters get when they talk about Christmas in Marshall.

I can envision a time when my nieces and nephews will reminisce about the Christmases in Omer at Grandma Lala’s and Papa Chocolate Mik’s house, the house in which I grew up. I love to see how much they enjoy spending time together, even if it is absolute chaos. I just hope that I help to create a little bit of Christmas magic for them all.

The Beatles – Now and Then (2023)

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The Beatles – Now and Then (2023) (Official Video) (Lyrics) (Documentary)

(Written December 4, 2023)

When I started The Mixtapes project on Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde, I knew that I would eventually have to address my love of the Beatles. Where to begin? As a result, I let nearly a year go by. Now, the decision has been made for me. We will start at the end.

I never dreamed that I would get the opportunity to write about a “new” Beatles release. Here I am, almost a month after the fact, doing just that. As a girl born a few days after John Lennon’s untimely death, a fan who witnessed the release of the Anthology Project during her high school years, it feels a fitting conclusion to all that the Beatles have achieved over the decades. Over the last month, I’ve watched as the reactions to “Now and Then” itself, the music video, and the mini-documentary came rolling in. Unsurprisingly, there is no consensus.

**My only criticism of the “Now and Then” project: the lackluster design for the single.**
**However, considering the rerelease of the “Red” and “Blue” compilation albums,**
**it somewhat makes sense.**

Beatles fans appear to be solidly in two camps. The first group is dismissive, stating that “Now and Then” will never rank among their greatest hits. Of course it won’t! How could it? That is not the point. Advances in technology aside, they state that it never should have been made. I’ve also heard “fans” (I purposely use that term loosely) complain that video clips of John and George used in the official video are too “irreverent.” I still have a hard time understanding that criticism from self-professed fans.

My response is simply this: Did you understand the Beatles – the band and the then young men who created it – at all? Their humor is a huge part of what made them so great. Their humor still holds up today. They simply would not have been the Beatles if you took humor out of the equation. I love that I can laugh at images of two men who are long gone and dearly missed in a newly released music video.

Then there is my favorite: “Now and Then” sounds too much like John Lennon’s solo work from the late 1970s. Of course it does. That is exactly what “Now and Then” represents, if only a demo. John did record it in the 70s, and as the Beatles disbanded in 1970, he likely meant for it to be a solo effort. However, that is only part of the story.

“Now and Then” is also one of a handful of unfinished demos that Yoko Ono gave to Paul McCartney upon John’s death. During the Anthology Project, Paul, George, and Ringo completed two of the other demos, “Free as a Bird” and “Real Love.” At the time, both songs climbed the charts and introduced the Beatles to an entirely new generation of fans. By the way, both songs, along with their music videos, still hold up – even if some fans are now calling for them to be “cleaned up” as well.

Even though I didn’t think about it at the time, it makes sense that there was supposed to be a third song released with the Anthology Project. It was released in three parts after all. That third song? “Now and Then.” It just took a few decades, Peter Jackson, and new technology lovingly called “MAL” for it to come to fruition.

Personally, I don’t think that the Beatles could have ended on a better note. It is nostalgic, almost timeless, and with its humor, the video is even better. It is a true love letter from Paul and Ringo to George and John – not to mention all of us, the fans. So, to Sirs Paul and Ringo, thank you! Once again, the Beatles will be rediscovered by an entirely new generation of music junkies.

On a sidenote, even the 5th Beatle, George Martin, was there in a sense. In his absence, his son Giles Martin, who just happened to play a huge role in the orchestration of “Love,” helped put those finishing touches on “Now and Then.”

Author Profile: Anne-Marie Oomen

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Anne-Marie Oomen

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.**

Review: All Things Must Pass (Documentary)

Gordon Lightfoot – The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald (1976)

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Gordon Lightfoot – The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald (1976) (Video) (Lyrics)

(Written May 7, 2023)

“The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they called ‘Gitche Gumee’ …” (Gordon Lightfoot 1976)

There is probably no more iconic opening lyric in modern music history. Sadly, Gordon Lightfoot died on May 1st, 2023 at age 84. In capturing the story of the tragedy of the Edmund Fitzgerald in song, he immortalized the iron ore carrier, its crew, and its disputed demise for generations to come. In a sense, it has become an elegy for all those lost on the Great Lakes over the centuries.

Growing up in Michigan throughout the 1980s and 1990s, we learned about the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald through Lightfoot’s lyrics. Personally, I’ve been fascinated ever since. It is easy to see why so many are still drawn to the story. First, it is a fairly “modern” shipwreck. The Fitzgerald sank on Lake Superior on November 10, 1975. They had enough lifeboats, modern radar, and radio communication. In fact, Captain McSorley’s last radio communication with a nearby ship, the Arthur M. Anderson, was “we are holding our own.” That chilling fact alone sends my imagination reeling.

Next, there are lingering questions as to exactly how the Edmund Fitzgerald sank. Some say that she ran aground on Six Fathoms Shoal, while others believe that the hatchways were not properly secured. Then, there are those who believe one of the Three SIsters – a reference to gigantic waves developing on Lake Superior in the wake of incredible fall storms – doomed the ship.

In fact, the subject of the Edmund Fitzgerald still garners a lot of local interest in Michigan. In September 2022, former reporter and Edmund Fitzgerald researcher Ric Mixter presented information on the wreck at the old court house in Omer. I happened to attend his presentation, and for such a small community, there was standing room only. Ric Mixter, a former reporter for local WNEM TV5, went on to present in Bay City and other nearby communities as well. What’s great about his presentation is the depth of his research, his respect for those who died in the tragedy, and his obvious love for the subject matter. He lets his audience decide for themselves the ultimate cause of the wreck. After I attended Ric Mixter’s presentation, I compiled some of his resources in the post All Things Michigan.

Finally, Gordon Lightfoot’s master songwriting draws one into the tragedy. WIth lyrics like “ice water mansion” and “Does anyone know where the love of God goes, When the waves turn the minutes to hours?,” it becomes a timeless folk song dedicated to the power of the Great Lakes. By telling the story in a basic timeline format, he immortalizes the old cook and Captain McSorley, along with the rest of the crew, for all time. I can’t think of a better tribute to the 29 men that lost their lives that fateful November day. It is one of the most haunting songs I’ve ever heard and fully deserves its rightful place in the history of timeless American folk songs.

What Makes Us Unique?

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WordPress, which I love, has a new feature that provides a writing prompt each day. One that caught my attention was “what makes someone unique?” The idea of individuality – ie uniqueness – gets right at the heart of what it means to be human. Sadly, there are times when our individuality sets us apart from the rest of society due to no fault of our own.

When do we learn in elementary school that the “other” is not OK? I’d love to think that things have changed since I was bullied in early elementary school due to my appearance, mostly height and weight, but I’m not that naive. I’ve watched in recent years as various school districts have tried to address the root of bullying with varying degrees of success. Unfortunately, it all starts at home. Children need to learn from a young age that we are all different. We all have different talents and ambitions, as well as strengths and weaknesses. All of us – all eight billion people on Earth – face challenges at different stages in life.

There are certain things that a person may experience in life that no one will fully understand unless they have been through it – or something similar. For example, unless you have lost a parent or a child, it is impossible to truly understand that level of grief. It is similar when dealing with infertility. Unless you are affected, it is impossible to imagine the depth to which it alters one’s life.

Aside from all that sets us apart from one another, including our challenges, there are interests. My interests are vastly different from that of my siblings or parents. I’m used to it, and over the years, I’ve developed those interests through various opportunities and friendships, both in real life and online.

If I had one wish for students today, it would be for them to have all the resources necessary to first find their interests and then have the ability and support to pursue them further. How many people have stopped doing something they enjoy simply because someone discouraged them, saying they had no talent? I see and hear about it all of the time. It saddens and sickens me. We should be encouraging healthy interests, as well as providing students outlets to develop them. For example, a student who enjoys art should be encouraged to pursue that interest as much as possible, even if there is no interest in making art a career.It comes down to expectations. At times, we focus so much on making ends meet that we need to make a life. We need to teach students that there is so much more to life than material things. It is more than OK to be yourself. You need to be your authentic self.

Review: Madonna 40

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On Friday evening March 31st, 2023, I joined scores of others to attend “Madonna 40” at the Delta College Planetarium. A sold out show, it was incredible – and a lot of fun! Designed to honor Madonna’s 40th anniversary of her first hit single “Holiday” and her always controversial place in Bay City history, it did not disappoint. My only wish: I would have thoroughly enjoyed another hour of her classic music videos and would have gladly paid accordingly. There is nothing quite like watching the music videos that made Madonna a superstar and an inspiration to a generation of girls and women, for better or worse, on the big screen. It is an experience I will never forget. Her early music will always be a part of the soundtrack to my early childhood memories. In designing the program, the following original, unedited music videos were shown in all of their ‘80s and early ‘90s glory:

Material Girl (1984) (Video) (My Take)
Vogue (1990) (Video)
Papa Don’t Preach (1986) (Video)
Like A Prayer (1989) (Video)

**A still from arguably Madonna’s most iconic music video, Material Girl (1984).**

Frankly, the music video portion of the program outshone everything else. The videos have held up over nearly four decades. What struck me most in the vintage videos was Madonna herself. Definitely not model thin or “fat,” she exuded old-school glamor in “Material Girl,” “Vogue,” and “Like A Prayer” with the dance moves that made her famous. As for “Papa Don’t Preach,” she looks like any fresh-faced midwestern high school or college girl.

Personally, I felt that the organizers/designers missed a huge opportunity by not including at least the videos for both “Promise to Try” (1989), which was largely filmed at her mother’s gravesite in Kawkawlin, Michigan (just north of Bay City), and “This Used to Be My Playground” (1992), which was included on the A League of Their Own soundtrack and supposedly written about Bay City becoming her refuge after her mother’s untimely death. The only actual footage of Madonna in or near Bay City was not included in the program. How?

The next segment of the program, “Smelly Little Town,” is originally why I wanted to attend the event and even moved around my schedule to do so. Debuting as part of the Hell’s Half Mile Film and Music Festival in Bay City in 2021, I doubted I would ever have another opportunity to see it. Growing up with the controversy, knowing Bay City a little too well, and having been born in Bay City myself, I had to check it out.

First and foremost, it is quite possibly the most Bay City thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Let me just say this: It began and ended with scenes of people polka dancing at the St. Stan’s Polish festival to the Steve Drzewicki Band, both Bay City institutions. I half expected to see my ex’s parents go dancing on by. In general, the film did a decent job describing Bay City, covering all aspects of the “smelly little town” controversy with Madonna, and explaining how ever-corrupt Bay City small town politics is the answer as to why Bay City has never really been able to capitalize on the fact that it is the birthplace of Madonna.

**This mural in downtown Bay City was privately funded and tucked away on a small side street.**

For those who don’t know, Madonna Louise Ciccone was born at the former Mercy Hospital in Bay City, Michigan on August 16th, 1958. Madonna is her actual given name as she was named after her mother. Upon her mother’s tragic death in 1963, Madonna spent time in Bay City with her grandmother, who lived in the Banks area, then home to a nearby oil refinery (hence the “smelly little town” comment that caused such an uproar). To this day, there is very little commemorating Madonna in Bay City. Then again, this is the same city that passed on becoming home to a casino and a minor league ballpark, both of which went to nearby communities.

If something wonderful is planning on coming to Bay City, one can be sure that public outrage will ensue in some way, shape, or form. I am speaking from experience. When I moved back to Michigan with my ex, a Bay City native, in 2005, the controversy over the then new Wirt Public Library – a gorgeous new anchor for downtown Bay City – had yet to wane. While I agree it doesn’t have the history of the historic Sage Library in Bay City, people were genuinely upset over a beautiful new library downtown. I will never understand the mentality.

Then again, back in 2005, Michigan experienced a one-state recession which was about to turn into the Great Recession. 2008 is covered well in the documentary. It is rightfully called one of the darkest times in Bay City history, and frankly, I consider my life in Bay City (2005-2012) one of the darkest periods in my life as well. Yet, while Bay City is almost unrecognizable from that dark hour, there is still nothing formal honoring Madonna in the city.

As much as I wanted to see “Smelly Little Town,” I doubt it would have been half as entertaining if not for my own experiences with Bay City and my early love of Madonna’s music. In fact, much of it is forgettable. However, it did a good job highlighting the ridiculousness of the entire situation and Bay City politics. I actually understand the controversy now. A little explanation and context behind Madonna’s comments would have changed everything. In the same infamous 1985 interview with Jane Pauly, Madonna goes on to say that she has “great affection” for Bay City.

By the way, Bay City still is a “smelly little town.” In a hilarious coincidence, I happened to drive by the Michigan Sugar plant on Friday on my way to see “Madonna 40.” For those who don’t know, processing sugar beets can smell like hot garbage on a good day. Friday, as I drove by, it never smelled worse.

Clearly, Madonna’s relationship with Bay City remains complicated. I fully understand why. My love/hate relationship with Madonna – I will always love Madonna’s music, but question her methods of self-promotion – mirrors my love/hate relationship with Bay City itself. I do hope that she is commemorated in Bay City at some point. Not every small town can claim to be the birthplace of the best-selling female musical artist of all time.

By the way, if you want a quick, accurate outline of Madonna’s complex history with Bay City, the article below does a wonderful job of doing just that.

‘The Madonna Controversy’: Five facts about Bay City’s Material Girl you may not have known