In Room 115

How to Build Community

The Human Pass

When my former high school classmate Holly posted this collage about Community, I thought of Adam.   I took this picture of my colleague Adam when he bopped into Room 115 on Friday and said that he was a human pass (for one of the students who came late).  It just hit me!  A human pass… wouldn’t that be nice if we could be that for one other.    

As a teacher in a high school, it would be easy to go into my classroom and close the door... close the door on the outside world and community as a whole.  Even then I could create a classroom community with my students or I could live in my own little kingdom.  The higher calling, I think, is to create a classroom community that transcends any walls or barriers of space or time.  Where I am weak, Adam is strong.  

The ancient African proverb is true... it really does take a village to raise a child.

In an eclassroom...

 

St. Johnsbury, Vermont and Randolph, Nebraska

Sign for St. Johnsbury's Farmer's Market

So many people eating the right things!

 Sometimes, I feel like there are these forces that are converging on me.  Let me explain.

Force #1:  My Swedish Family:  When my healthy and vibrant Swedish family came this summer, I listened to many discussions and debates about how to eat right as we shared so many meals together over the three weeks that there were here in the United States.  We all want to be healthy and live well, but we have a better chance of doing that if we are fueling our engines in the right way.  My cousin Katherina was concerned about how much sugar and bread we consumed as a part of our everyday diet.  I vowed to eat better and get back into my exercise regimen. 

Force #2:  My Summer Eating habits on the road:  Well, 18 pounds later into the summer, Derrick and Colin had arrived from Nebraska.  As we were making our way into the latest Batman movie, we took an interesting aside into the back parking lot of the Star Theater in downtown St. Johnsbury.  The old Grandpa's Cigar parking lot was now host  (okay maybe it's been there for years and I just didn't know) to a Farmer's Market with tents as far as the eye could see.  I was mesmerized...  Check out of the youtube video  (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcIZzoYnj9I&feature=em-share_video_user) about this little piece of heaven.  Here there were farm fresh veggies and crafts, and it gave me hope.  Not only did I know that I had to start eating better, I had in front of me the proof that I could access this healthier food, if I really wanted to make a difference in my eating habits. 

Force #3:  Meanwhile back in Randolph even in horrific drought conditions, our friends the Pfanstiels were kicking off the pilot year of their foray into starting a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA), Pfanny's Farm- Abundant Life CSA.  You can read more about it at http://www.localharvest.org/pfannys-farmabundant-life-csa-M39163.  Community Members can buy shares in their farm and get a heaping bin of farm fresh goodies throughout the summer.  I didn't buy a share because with Colin and Ian in Omaha for most of the time now, Derrick holding down the fort in Randolph and me off in Vermont, we couldn't use a whole bin either.  As soon as we returned from Vermont, there was Julie offering a sample of their farm goods online, and I jumped at the opportunity.  When I started delving deeply into this bucket, I found vegetables that I hadn't even heard about since my grandmother was alive.  Swiss chard really?  Beets... why didn't I like those again?  Those fresh vegetables brought back memories of food my Grammie Catherine used to make... priceless. The hours we spent talking in her kitchen as she canned are the foundation of any wisdom I ever had...

      Force #4 Friends:  My College pals eat right and they know why they do it.  As I am serving up the hamburgers and hot dogs at the cabin this summer, they were sneaking off to the barbeque to grill up some ... eggplant.  Excuse me?  As a matter of fact, once I came into the kitchen and found my girlfriend's son, Nathan staring at all of the donuts, muffins, and cookies.  When I asked him if he wanted something, he confess that he wanted to try it all because they get to eat stuff that's "bad for you" at his house.  OUCH!  Hey, I am glad I could give him a little life experience in the kitchen of a sugar junky who is about to go through rehabilitation!

... And last night Pfanny's Farm- Abundant Life- CSA offered a workshop about preserving food.  What a gift!  Not only now, can we eat better, but we can eat better year round.  And have fun while learning...

Anthony Shearer stirring up some trouble in the back!

We have a winner!  Tyler Harder shows off Stephanie's potatoes.

Julie Pfanstiel teaches as she inspires!

Cleveland, Ohio

 As we rolled back to Nebraska cross country this August, a bit of a family feud erupted around which side trip or excursion we would take.  We've done The Field of Dreams (http://www.fieldofdreamsmoviesite.com/) and baseball games galore, but my plea, as always, was for Niagara Falls (http://www.niagarafallsstatepark.com).  Unfortunately, since I was the only one who brought my passport, I would be the only one allowed to walk the Nik Wallenda tightrope across to the Canadian side of the falls.  Immediately this was perceived as a problem!

Now, because Ian was in Omaha, and Derrick and Colin were in the car, their votes to stop at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio overpowered my single, yet passionate vote for Niagara Falls.  Truth be told, Ian would have voted with them anyway.  Okay, so it was with the dejected pout of a pregnant possum that I drove us in the "The Forest City", "Metropolis of the Western Reserve", "Sixth City", "The Rock 'n' Roll Capital of the World", or  "C-Town."  You know, Cleveland, Ohio (http://www.city.cleveland.oh.us/CityofCleveland/Home).  

Cleveland, OH

Lola, the GPS, led the way.  As we approached the side Boulevard for parking near the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (rockhall.com), we saw it was beautiful.  On the shores of Lake Erie, the city was absolutely radiant.  I knew that there was something synchronistic about this visit.  Not only was it Wednesday night at 6 PM, and the Museum usually closed at 5:30 PM all summer long on every night BUT Wednesday night, as I made my way around the corner to the front of the triangular building, I was sure that I heard these lofty lyrics floating across the hot humid air.  “Get tired of travelin and you want to settle down./I guess they can't revoke your soul for tryin,Get out of the door and light out and look all around./Sometimes the lights all shinin’ on me; Other times I can barely see.  Lately it occurs to me what a long, strange trip it's been./  Truckin, Im a goin home. whoa whoa baby, back where I belong, Back home...

Special Exhibition at The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

Speaking of the call of the mythical Sirens, here we were truckin’ on our way home from Vermont to Nebraska and immediately, I was transported back to the Summer of 1989 at Foxboro Stadium.  My BFF Kathy had convinced me that we had to attend this Grateful Dead show.  The sociological implications alone would be worth the price of admission and implications there were.   I was stunned to see how these people, some of them even couples with children, lived following the Dead from show to show. It was an opportunity I will never forget and am so grateful  (sorry about this one, really I am) that I had a chance to experience it.  So while Derrick and Colin were captivated by the Beatles, (Jackson) Browne and Bruce displays, I was captured by the Dead.  Stay with me here…

Summer of 1989

A highway is really an apt metaphor for the passage of time (Isn't it ironic that we are even leaning on our cars in these pictures) and the different seasons of life.  As we connected with friends over the course of the summer, I was reminded of how they continue to influence my life... in my eating (for example… high fructose corn syrup = bad, eggplant = good), in my thinking and in my dreaming.  As with my extraordinary sisters, I am surrounded with this incredible group of inspirational women who have been through so much in their lives, tragedy even touched our close-knit group again this summer, but they remain principle-centered and faith-filled role models for me.  They fill me up and are signs for me of God’s love in the world. 

Summer of 2012

With that being said, Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” lyrics jog through my head because the song uses similar road of life imagery.  “Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels/I don't know how to tell you all just how crazy this life feels/ I look around for the friends that I used to turn to pull me through/ Looking into their eyes I see them running too/ Running on-running on empty/ Running on-running blind/Running on-running into the sun /But I'm running behind …” 

Running on Inspiration...

Even though I do always feel like I am running behind, I don't feel like I am running on empty.  I feel like the love of my God, my family and my friends fills me up and fuels my ambition to be Christ’s light in the world.  So too is my prayer for all of you.  Summer is nearly over, but my dreams are leading me ahead.  As I discern God’s call in my life, I want to forge my dreams with the days and resources I’ve been given.  These are my New Year’s Resolutions…  Happy New Year!  New Year of School Year, that is!

The Inn at Essex, Vermont

We were living in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and it was my brother’s birthday.  I found myself in the public library as I do on so many important occasions, and a book literally jumped off the shelf at me, Nicholas Sparks’ book, Three Weeks with My Brother.   I checked it out in honor of my brother’s birthday, went home and read it through.  It was nonfiction, and I hadn’t read any of Nicholas Sparks’ nonfiction before but in this book he chronicled a trip he took around the world with his brother, Micah.   Nicholas Sparks’ website summarizes it by saying, “Nicholas recalled their rambunctious childhood adventures and the tragedies that tested their faith. And in the process, they discovered startling truths about loss, love and hope…Three Weeks with my Brother reminds us to embrace life with all its uncertainties . . . and most of all, to cherish the joyful times, both small and momentous, and the wonderful people who make them possible. “ 

Ever since I finished this inspiring book, I have been trying to talk my siblings into spending time doing just that...having a sibling retreat.  All of us get caught up in the busyness of everyday life that it is easy to lose touch and lose track of the important people in our lives.  In order to prevent that from happening, families and friends have to be proactive.   

For the sibling retreat, the dream or the goal was to take some time to go away together and spend some quality time reconnecting with one another.  This year, we came really close.  With my big brother in Florida celebrating his granddaughter’s second birthday on the 4th of July, he couldn’t attend, but my sisters Tina and Pattie were very much in.  After batting around several different suggestions, Pattie, who was celebrating a BIG birthday on July 7^th, offered up her night’s stay at the Inn at Essex (www.vtculinaryresort.com) that she won from the Essex Booster’s Club Raffle.  Even though the main events of our retreat consisted of dinner and a movie and lots of laughing, it was perfect.  We even had my brother for a little bit during a late night Skyping session, so technically, he was with us for part of the retreat.  

I guess I don’t have any fancy Virtual Fieldtrip links to add to this Blog, but a plea to spend quality time with the ones you love while you can.  This beautiful idea of our sibling retreat came from a book, but my

extraordinary sisters made it happen!

Stowe, Waterbury and Burlington, Vermont

Before the cousins flew down to New York City for the last days of their visit to the United States, we were going to spend some time in Burlington.  Burlington is a beautiful city on Lake Champlain, and one of my favorite places on Earth.  We decided to make a couple of stops along the way:  The Von Trapp Family Lodge in Stowe, Vermont and Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream in Waterbury, Vermont.  If dreams were made of delicious food, this would be one marvelous luncheon, but it also felt like goodbye.

Everyone knows the story of the Von Trapp Family (http://www.trappfamily.com/story) who fled the Nazis in the 1940’s as depicted in the film, The Sound of Music.  But as the VonTrapp website explains, not many know the story behind Maria Von Trapp’s conversion story.  I love conversion stories because I think that they illustrate how God can speak to us in the most common everyday occurrences.  In the meeting of people we have never met before or the experiencing of something new, we can discern our call. 

The Word Among Us meditation for August 2, 2012 worded it like this… “It’s easy to recognize God in grandiose events like a dramatic conversion experience or the birth of a new child. But God is just as present in our regular, everyday lives. Whether we are at work, sweep­ing the floors, or making a meal, he stands ready to speak his message to us. He is always looking to mold our hearts and form our minds. Through his Spirit, he is always eager to reach right into our ordinary days and make them extraordinary.” 

So too it was with Maria Von Trapp as described from the Lodge website.  “Maria's mother died when she was two years old. Her father left her with an elderly cousin so that he could be free to travel. She experienced a lonely and very strict upbringing without any siblings or other children in the household. The movie strongly portrays Maria as the epitome of religious devotion in and out of convent life. Most people are unaware that she was raised as a socialist and atheist and became actively cynical towards all religions. Those beliefs quickly and dramatically changed by the chance meeting of a visiting Jesuit priest to Maria's college.

 Maria had entered a crowded church assuming she was about to enjoy a concert by Bach. Instead, a well-known priest, Father Kronseder has just begun preaching. Caught in the middle of a standing-room-only crowd, Maria soon found herself caught up in the words of this preacher. In Maria's words, ‘Now I had heard from my uncle that all of these bible stories were inventions and old legends, and that there wasn't a word of truth in them. But the way this man talked just swept me off my feet. I was completely overwhelmed by it...’  When he finished his sermon and came down the pulpit stairs Maria grabbed his elbow and loudly asked, ‘Do you believe all this?’ A meeting between the priest and Maria changed her beliefs and the course of her life”.  We all have the opportunity to do this for others each and every day, don't we?  Food for thought...

Despite all of the tempting desserts and lessons about salvation, we saved our last course for down the road, dessert at Ben and Jerry’s (www.benjerry.com).  I swear every time I have their ice cream it gets even better than the time before, and I love that they care about making our world a better place while they make outstanding ice cream.  I got to tell the cousins all of my stories about the old Ben and Jerry’s in downtown Burlington around the corner from my old apartment above the bagel bakery.  So it was down to the Lakefront we went.  It felt hot today, but that didn’t stop us from hiking up to Church Street (www.churchstmarketplace.com).  The Cousins perpetrated more shopping before I had to drag them Before long, it was time to head out to meet our host Ron, aka Ian’s Godfather!  After a quick change, we would be dining at the Black Sheep Bistro (http://blacksheepbistrovt.com/) in Vergennes, Vermont, and it was everything that we thought it would be and more.  The courses kept coming and after three hours, I couldn’t eat one more morsel.  When I think back to the 18 pounds I gained this summer, I am fairly certain at least 15 of them came from the Black Sheep Bistro! 

            ….  Another day that was made extraordinary in very ordinary ways.

Father's Day Up Mount Washington

ALL ABOARD!

As if Family Reunions aren’t  hair-raising enough the next day, we headed out for the Cog Railway in Bretton Woods, New Hampshire on Mount Washington.  (Check out the Cog at http://www.thecog.com/.)  It was Father’s Day and Katherina had wanted to ride this rail for many, many years.   The website touts, “The beauty of the mountains and the thrill of ascending the Northeast's highest peak are just as enchanting today as they were in 1869, when Sylvester Marsh opened the world's first mountain-climbing railroad on New Hampshire's Mount Washington.

Nearly 150 years later, the Mount Washington Cog Railway continues to provide a sense of adventure and history as it carries passengers up a 3-mile-long trestle and the steepest railroad tracks in North America to the 6,288-foot summit of Mount Washington. There, visitors can take in the spectacular panoramic view, spanning the mountains and valleys of New Hampshire, Maine and Vermont, north into Canada, and east to the Atlantic Ocean.

Passengers may choose to ride The Cog in a car powered by a historic steam locomotive or the more modern and eco-friendly biodiesel engines.”  When I look at this railroad, I am always amazed that it actually works.  I am in awe of Sylvester Marsh.  The website explains how adversity inspired this amazing invention.  “His dream began in 1852 when, after becoming lost near the summit of Mount Washington.  Sylvester Marsh knew that there had to be a better way for people to reach the highest mountain peak in the Northeast. Upon his return home, he immediately started working on a plan to build the world's first mountain-climbing cog railway.

Marsh, a native of Campton, New Hampshire, had made his fortune in Chicago's meat-packing industry and was considered by his contemporaries to be a creative and innovative thinker. However, upon first presenting his idea to members of the New Hampshire Legislature, they laughed at Sylvester Marsh and said that he ‘might as well build a railway to the Moon.’

Undaunted, Marsh began the task of building his mountain climbing railway, along with inventors Herrick and Walter Aiken, a father-and-son team from Franklin, New Hampshire. The task was not an easy one, as equipment and materials had to be hauled by oxen for 25 miles to Bretton Woods, and then another six miles through thick forest to the base of Mount Washington. But on July 3, 1869, 'Old Peppersass' became the first cog-driven train to climb 6,288-foot Mount Washington.”  Talk about perseverance… holy smokes (pun totally intended).  Now, building a railway to the top of a gigantic mountain would not be a dream of mine, but Katherina and Mia were so glad that Sylvester Marsh believed in his dreams and made them come true.  Three hours after takeoff they returned-  exhilarated, enthusiastic and maybe, a little chilly. 

Plymouth, Massachusetts, Lunenburg and Miles Pond, Vermont

On Friday, it was time to say goodbye to our little Villa in New Seabury, Massachusetts and set out for Vermont.  Friday, we were going to stop at Plymouth, Massachusetts to see Plymouth Rock and The Mayflower II before heading north, but I thought that it was so important for my Cousin Katherina to learn more about our family history.  My Cousin John had worked tirelessly to trace our Grammie Catherine’s family back to John and Priscilla Alden (take a virtual field trip http://www.scholastic.com/scholastic_thanksgiving/webcast.htm#) from the Mayflower, and watching Katherina take in all of the sights and sounds of Plymouth’s Pilgrims with such joy and curiosity overwhelmed me with emotion.  This trip to the United States was a pilgrimage for Cousin Katherina and Mia too.  It seems like this recurring theme of dreams came around yet again.  Our ancestors had gumption… courage, strength and audacity might still be characteristics seen in the family even up to this generation.  This wasn’t a vacation really;  it was a journey of our hearts, history and heritage.  And sixteen days were not enough!

After taking in the beautiful views in Plymouth Harbor (http://www.plymouth-ma.gov/Public_Documents/index) and agreeing that we need to spend more time here during Katherina’s next visit, we headed up the highway to Vermont and my sisters and niece who were eagerly waiting to see Katherina and Mia too.  We headed out to a spectacular neighborhood Bistro, Bailiwicks on Mill, and spent the next hours laughing, connecting and dreaming.  We watched the televisions spellbound as Nik Wallenda (http://news.discovery.com/adventure/wallenda-niagara-falls-120616.html) walked across Niagara Falls, which only served to remind me, once my sheer panic subsided,  about family traditions that fuel dreams and a heritage that gets passed down through the generations.  The Wallenda Family has been known for generations by their daring deeds, risking life and limb in pursuit of higher and more challenging feats.  Luckily for me, my heritage is much more down to earth.  Life is hard enough at times, we should never have to walk a tightrope for or with our families, literally or figuratively!

The next morning dawned brightly, and I swear it was the nicest day of the summer-  perfect for a couple of family gatherings.  First we drove to my Cousin Harold’s house to look over our Kenney family genealogy as narrated by our family historian Henrietta.  Her life’s work has been to collect the Kenney family history along with documentation.  We owe so much to her for all of the work that she has selflessly done through the years.  The most amazing part is that she knows it all off the top of her head.  My goal now is to take this information and put it into a book along with an updated directory, pictures, recipes and stories.  This is my mission.   This is my dream.   

In the afternoon, we went back to the Pond where I had reserved the Pavilion for part II of our family reunion day-  more cousins, additional food, new stories and just reconnecting for those who could come.  Katherina was so grateful for everyone who came out to meet her.  I am sure that her mind was swimming in the newfound layers of family, but so happy and very proud, I think.  Much like, I pray, all of our grandparents must have felt looking down on us there.    

Martha's Vineyard

I don’t want my title to mislead you here that I had a chance to go to Martha’s Vineyard, because, although I guess I had the opportunity, I couldn’t go to Martha’s Vineyard.  I sent Katherina and Mia on the Ferry to Martha’s Vineyard, and I knew that they would really enjoy their day.  (Here... Take a virtual tour and see some of things that they may have done... http://www.mvol.com/virtualtours)  Not only did I think that it was time to give them a break from their obsessive compulsive tour guide, but I, in all of my tour guide-ity had broken a tooth.  Since I was 300 miles from my favorite cosmetic dentist (http://www.shoresmiles.com), I knew that I would need to improvise.  I also knew that I should not stop at the storefront by the Ferry… You know the one… The one with the sign that read, “Walk-ins Welcome J.”  But desperate times call for desperate measures, and I would need to get this tooth fixed before those girls returned on the evening ferry.  This gnarled and jagged porcelain dagger would not do, and there would be no other time.   Summoning all of the courage I had left, I walked into that makeshift dental facility, and after giving them all of my pertinent insurance information they lusted for, they took me right in.  (This should have been a red flag perhaps…) 

I started to protest, but with a tilt on her head, and a boink of her eyebrow, she hypnotized me, drew me from my chair and into the black abyss of the backroom.  She led me to the first examining room on the right.  It was always the first one on the right;  I wondered why.  I jumped up into the long, blue chair with the hard plastic covers.  In one swift movement, the chair’s arm swooped down from behind me as the chair began to rise.  I felt the drool bib being placed on my chest and the ball bearing chain/clip combo being roped behind my neck and then gracefully clipped into my hair.

(Disclaimer... This picture is not a photo of my dentist on the Cape.  This is a creepy dentist with a frightening surgical mask from geekologie.com.  All names have been removed to protect the ...

creepy.)

“Open wide!” was the command from the cavernous smile.  “Wider, wider, okay.  Here we go.”  A bevy of pain overrode my senses, but before I knew it, a plastic cup was being hoisted toward my mouth.   Although it must have been 2 ½ hours, I heard the enthusiastic and fresh,  “Swish and spit.”  Working as a high school English teacher for many years now, my gut told me to respond with a feisty, “Swish and spit, yourself”, but I refrained.  I wasn’t out of the clear yet!  As they pointed to the mechanized spittoon to my left, they had a devilish twinkle in their eyes.  It was almost like they could read my terrorized mind.  “All done.  Just like new…” They touted. 

“Ya right,” I thought.  Now it was all like a movie being played in reverse.  Down came the chair, up went the arm, off came the clip bib, out came my hair by its roots.  I wriggled my face muscles back into shape as I leapt out of the chair and out to the front desk.  The only thing missing on this dental emergency expedition was a trip to the treasure drawer where I could have grabbed a glow-in-the-dark puppy ring.    No puppy ring aside,  I raced outside, threw myself against the railing of the front porch and drew in the salty ocean air.  I’m not sure, but as I was leaving I could have sworn that I heard all of the staff members gathered in the office calling out in unison, “You all come back now, ya hear?” 

Hyannis, Massachusetts

Our little villa was a sweet place to wake up in!  Having arrived in the dark of night, we crawled through the twists and turns of the cobblestoned alleys.  We ran inside, up and down the stairs, and Katherina exclaimed that it felt a little like Christmas morning.  For never having been able to share a Christmas morning with THIS cousin, it felt pretty invigorating.  We threw our bags inside and crawled to the ocean.  The rhythmic crashing of the waves felt ancestral, being so close to Plymouth, Massachusetts where our Pilgrim family landed in 1620.

The rain that greeted us in the morning told us that our day at the beach would have to wait, but luckily Mia had already researched what our rainy day expedition should be… a trip into Hyannis and the John F. Kennedy museum  (http://jfkhyannismuseum.org).  It was just a bonus that the Kennedy Museum was connected to the Cape Cod Hall of Fame Baseball Museum (http://v2.capecodbaseball.org).  I have always been fascinated by the Kennedy Family, and my love for baseball is… well, it is legendary!

I am so glad that I had a chance to go to this museum.  So often we think, maybe just I think … that the Kennedys are like royalty in a lot of ways, but what I took away from this experience is that they are regular people with big dreams inspired by this beautiful place.  “The sea and shores of Hyannis Port inspired our 35th President like no other place on earth.”  I looked at all of these pictures of the Kennedys out on the water and having family celebrations.   

Places do inspire us, don’t they?  So many writers are associated with the places where they live and write because the settings of their novels become like another character in the story.  I feel that way when I am at Miles Pond.  When I am at the Pond, I always want to share it with others.  I always think about how it would be a great place for a retreat center or a Boy Scout camp.   

When we visit these inspirational places, we want to be out in them, and my next favorite part of this outing had to be when we picnicked in the rain out of the back of the car.  I guess we do this in Scouts all the time, but this repast felt extraordinary and special.    I discovered the American Dream, a powerful igniter of ambition for the past generation, all over again in downtown Hyannis this day through the eyes of my Swedish cousins.  It’s okay to dream… Mark Twain once said, "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”