Capturing Summer

Hydrangea bouquet on Westport River, Westport. MA

It is officially mid-summer.  Wow, time is flying.  Maybe it is the sensation of coming out of a lockdown pandemic and feeling free to roam.  Free to go to a restaurant, a concert, visit with friends in their home, move about without a mask.  It all seems to have happened so quickly. With two shots in the arm and five weeks of waiting, all of a sudden, we were out of jail.  At least some of us. 80% of the Vermont population is vaccinated which is a really an accomplishment.

All this is good timing with summer arriving on our doorsteps with a bit more time, hopefully, to enjoy this new freedom.  With warm weather, the blooming world, gardens to tend and appreciate, books to read in the hammock, lakes to swim and paddle in.  I soak it all in. 

We just returned from a trip to visit friends and family in Rhode Island, Massachusetts, and New Jersey.  Our son and his family, the ones we were so close to during the pandemic, moved to New Jersey in the end of May.  When we visited, we shared so many summer things with them and two and a half year old Jack…swimming in a pool and the ocean waves, lighting sparklers on a warm July night, eating ice cream cones, watching fireflies.  

Grays Mill Pond, Westport, MA, sketching with Liz

I have been carrying around a small sketchbook since last March and it traveled with me on our recent trip.  My friend and noteworthy author of many books on drawing in the natural world, Clare Walker Leslie, re-introduced me to the idea of a small, portable sketchbook and drawing and painting side by side with a friend…like an art making play date.  Clare and I met in March and set up a mini studio inside our cars and drew and painted snow-covered fields and a maple sugaring operation in full swing.  In a compact bag I now carry a sketchbook, colored pencils, drawing pencils, drawing pens, watercolor brushes, a water container, and a travel watercolor set. It sounds like a lot, but even if you only have a little sketchbook and a few pens, you can still draw! These additions start to make it more fun and add more possibilities.

Another COVID inspiration has been Karen Abend and her Sketchbook Revival two-week extravaganza.  Every year in the spring, she hosts artists who lead online workshops based on what they each do in life, two a day for two weeks!  Karen hosts this event every year and it is free.  I highly recommend it.  Among the artists that Karen featured in March were Danny Gregory, founder of Sketchbook Skool, who led us in drawing a sneaker, changing media every minute!, Karen Stamper, from the UK, who taught us how to make a concertina sketchbook, and Shari Blaukoph, who led us in painting a watercolor of a Province doorway. All of these accomplished artists and authors have exciting websites with abundant resources, workshops and classes.

Another wonderful companion along the way is Koosje Koene, from the Netherlands, who co-founded Sketchbook Skool and now leads workshops and teaches online and in person.  She was one of Karen Abend’s featured artists during Sketchbook Revival.  Almost every Tuesday, Koosje hosts Draw Tip Tuesday videos that are all archived on her Youtube Channel.  She is friendly, inviting, encouraging, and a very good teacher.  She always posts the materials that she uses and that is helpful. 

Rudbeckia from our VT fields in RI

This is a COVID silver lining…all these offerings online, that were there all along, but who knew? I did not. I discovered them and, thankfully, feel as if I have a whole group of new friends.  I have loved watching artists post their work with a sketchbook or small canvas held up against the landscape or still life that they are painting, so I started to do that too.  

Drawing and painting are ways to slow down and truly be present in the moment wherever you are. It is wonderful to draw side-by-side with children, friends, and family, to share materials, time together, discoveries, and joy.  I say, just do it.  You won’t regret it.  Take a look at this blog post and also this one, for more ideas and encouragement!

Watercolors with Jack in NJ

Awakened to Reggio Podcast

Study Tour on Children, the Natural World, and Materials, Ligonchio, Italy, 2011

Sometime in February, I got an email from Sandy Lanes asking if I would agree to be interviewed for a podcast she hosts called Awakened to Reggio.  I listened to an episode that she had posted with friend and colleague, Jennifer Azzariti and was taken in right away through Jennifer’s stories of the Model Early Learning Center in Washington D.C., working with Amelia Gambetti, and what it was like starting out all those many years ago.  Sandy’s interviewing style was relaxed yet serious and their conversation and their give and take was fun to listen to.  I wrote to Sandy and said, “Yes.” 

Sandy sent questions in advance and also told me that she was open to any questions I might want to consider.  She asked about what it was like to live and work in the schools of Reggio Emilia for a year, and what it was like to “bring this approach home,” to St. Louis where I worked at The College School and in collaboration with Clayton Schools’ Family Center, The St. Michael School, and Webster University.  She asked about my perspectives on collaboration…what does it look like? Why is it important?  She asked about the practice of having conversations with children…and how they bridge to learning.  She asked about what Ashley and I are doing now when we work with schools. 

Natural materials portraits, The College School.

This podcast was a wonderful opportunity to reflect on 30 years of my life and work.  It came out pretty well.  Sandy asked very provocative and pointed questions, and she is a skillful editor! 

Rather than quote myself here, please listen yourself. You will find it also, here, and here and here. It will be a way for us to have a conversation about these ideas, because I am sure that you will have your own experience and your own interpretations about what Sandy and I share.   

Listen also to all of Sandy’s podcasts and guests.  Among others, Sandy has interviewed Amelia Gambetti, Ann Pelo, Ben Mardell, and Jeanne Goldhaber.  All of her podcasts are informative and shed light on Reggio inspired principles and practices from the perspective and experience of her interviewees.  Together, the podcasts are like a kaleidoscope of views on an approach that is layered, many faceted, and also, a whole, like its own ecosystem.  What a treasure of an archive Sandy is building.  

Congratulations Sandy and thank you for inviting me to participate in your Awakened to Reggio podcast!

From collection of images from Reggio Emilia, 2009

Spring and Mother's Day

We live in an apple orchard.  The trees are over 50 years-old but they have been lovingly tended and pruned and are doing very well.  This time of year, it seems like we are living in some kind of heaven.  With clouds of fragrant white blossoms right outside our door, and in every direction we look.  Exactly two months ago, the snow disappeared.  What a transformation…to be living inside these turns of seasons and the miracle of rebirth of everything green and blooming. 

That Mother’s Day occurs at just this moment is lovely timing.  Blooming, nurturing, beauty, bounty, all happening at once.  Spring is poignant this year, as we slowly emerge from the weight of a pandemic, at least in the United States, while other countries like India and Brazil suffer so much loss and death.  We grieve the effects of climate change widespread on our planet, and we grieve the distress and injustice toward black and brown and Asian people, especially on our home ground. 

Feeling gratitude for the beauty of the world and the love of those who have cared us into being is such an important practice, maybe especially now, in 2021.  Mother’s Day, though controversial, is one such time to be particularly thankful. 

In  Wikipedia’s account: The modern holiday was first celebrated in 1907, when Anna Jarvis held the first Mother's Day service of worship at Andrews Methodist Episcopal Church in Grafton, West Virginia. Andrew's Methodist Church now holds the International Mother's Day Shrine. Her campaign to make Mother's Day a recognized holiday in the United States began in 1905, the year her mother, Ann Reeves Jarvis, died. Ann Jarvis had been a peace activist who cared for wounded soldiers on both sides of the American Civil War, and created Mother's Day Work Clubs to address public health issues. She and another peace activist and suffragette Julia Ward Howe had been urging for the creation of a Mother’s Day dedicated to peace. 40 years before it became an official holiday, Ward Howe had made her Mother’s Day Proclamation in 1870, which called upon mothers of all nationalities to band together to promote the “amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace.” 

I appreciate knowing that the original intension of Mother’s Day was international and a call to action for peaceful settlement to world problems. That is uplifting.  It would be such a helpful thing to go back to this intention and reclaim the day with its original message.  

I read two very different commentaries this Mother’s Day.  One from Anne Lamott, American novelist and non-fiction writer, and one from Heather Cox Richardson, an American historian and professor of history at Boston College. Anne Lamott’s was what I would call a rant against the holiday. Heather Cox Richardson’s was an expansive, thoughtful, reframing.  In the end, both of them proclaimed that many people influence us and make a lasting, positive impression on us, and many of these people are not mothers.  

For the last year, Heather Cox Richardson’s daily Letters from an American, have kept us grounded, informed, and always learning more American history. Her comments are mostly directed at the politics and government of our democracy, but sometimes she posts a beautiful image of a harbor in Maine where she lives, or a commentary on life.  

 On May 8th, she began with this paragraph, 

Those of us who are truly lucky have more than one mother. They are the cool aunts, the elderly ladies, the family friends, even the mentors who whip us into shape. By my count, I’ve had at least eight mothers.

And, she ended with this one. 

Mrs. A. left me her linens, her gardening coat, and a photo of her and her siblings. She also left me ideas about how to approach both history and life. I've never met a woman more determined never to be a mother, but I'm pretty sure that plan was one of the few things at which she failed. 

Thinking of her, and all the wonderful women like her who mother without the title, on this Mother's Day.

In between, she tells the story of Sally Adams Bascom Augenstern, born in 1903, with whom she spent time as a young girl and who became one of her “mothers.”

I sent this letter to two dear friends who are not mothers and told them how much I witnessed the positive influence that they had on young women and girls and how grateful I was to have them in my life.  They both appreciated the reframe and the inclusion so much.  It is worth noting that all these positive influencers are also in some way teachers. Anyone who loves us, challenges us, engages us, and cares us into being is, in part, a teacher.

When we were in St. Louis one of the great positive influences on us was Kathy Cramer, of the Cramer Institute, dedicated to coaching business leaders and educators in what Kathy called, Asset Based Thinking.  Asset Based Thinking is a group of strategies and mindsets that reframe what our negative biased brains most often interpret, toward the assets and positive aspects of most any situation…what we might learn, how we might respond, what makes most of us feel valued and appreciated.  Another similar approach is called Appreciative Inquiry…looking toward designing solutions built on what is working already rather than solving problems.

I like to think that these ways of thinking have become part of our lives.  Kathy Cramer was not a mother, and she died five years ago, very young, of cancer.  I think of her as one of those women who had a lasting, positive influence on me.  She might be one to celebrate with this expanded, inclusive, view of our holiday, one that also is based on the original intent, a time to call women of “all nationalities to band together to promote the ‘amicable settlement of international questions, the great and general interests of peace.’”  

Daily Journal Pages for Jack

I have recently been enchanted with books illustrated by Sonia Sanchez.  She has a wild and irresistible style.  My favorites, so far, include The Little Red Fort, about a younger sister in a family of four, who designs and builds her own fort because her three brothers are too busy and uninterested.  In the end, they are full of admiration. 

I also love Evelyn Del Ray is Moving Away, written by Meg Medina and illustrated by Sanchez.  I have been reading it often with my almost two and a half year-old grandson, Jack, who has been my companion for two days every week since the pandemic broke out last March. 

Jack will announce to his parents as we read, “Evelyn is moving to a new home!” And she is moving away from her best friend and neighbor.  I now tear up every time I read it.  I would anyway, I imagine.  But now, Jack and his parents are moving away, at the end of May.  Their year here has been an unexpected gift to Ashley and to me.  Living in Vermont was never a part of their plan.  But it happened.  And now, we are closer than ever in every way.  

In the fall, Jack will attend a Reggio inspired school in New Jersey. At the end of a recent visit, the director told Jack’s mother that my books were on his shelf.  That makes me happy.  After over a year of quarantine and being in a small pod with his parents and grandparents, Jack is ready for friends his own size!  I will love visiting him at school and watching him grow and thrive. Though, just like Evelyn and her best friend, it will be very hard to say goodbye.  “We have had such fun!” as Ashley’s mother used to say. 

I have lots of photo images and notes about observations and adventures that we have had together…from the whole year.  About a month ago, I decided to start composing “daily journal” pages about our days together.  I heard that at Jack’s new school, there will be a daily newsletter.  In most Reggio inspired schools, these are called daily journals.  Daily journals are full of observations by teachers, quotes of children, photos of children at work, drawings and other student work.  These pages show what the children are learning that from the teachers’ point of view….is unexpected, wonderfully intelligent, and creative.  They feature “the teacher as researcher”…learning from and alongside the children. 

In my case, in our case, it is a little different. We are one on one. I am one grandmother, and Jack is one grandchild. Jack is not part of a class of children and I am not his teacher. And, I have been in this business for a long time, I truly love it, and I am always learning. It has been and will continue to be a thrill to be an educator grandmother who has a passion for the “100 languages of children.” As Jack exclaims often, and now so do we all, with arms raised high above our heads,…“Gratitude!”

 Jack visiting his pig friends at Blue Ledge Farm.

A Year Later

Last Saturday night, from a window view, we watched as fireworks sent their colors and sparks over the Middlebury College campus.  The students returned several weeks ago after three months away, and now, they are mostly out of the COVID woods having quarantined and been tested repeatedly. They are back in classes in person.  Still masked and distanced, but they are back. The fireworks marked the 365 days that have passed since they were all sent home and the campus closed March on 13th, 2020. 

And so it goes for all of us.  Most of us are reflecting on a whole year of loss, grief, restriction, racial injustice, climate crisis, and political unrest and division.  I realize, that in spite of so much loss, I feel so much more grateful for just about everything than I did a year ago.  I realize how fortunate I am.  We have enough to eat, we have a warm house, we have space, we have ways to live that nurture us and that help others.  This is not true for many people. 

From Principia Early Learning Center, St. Louis, MO

We have been so impressed with the adaptability, resourcefulness, and resilience of teachers.  Those with whom we work at Principia School in St. Louis, those who teach our grandchildren at Lincoln School in Brookline, MA, those who are in our family, those who are our friends and neighbors, those who continue to show up for professional development that will help them do a better job…really all teachers everywhere.  They are indeed essential, tireless workers who make all the difference in our children’s lives. 

We believe that no matter our circumstance, it is probably worth our while to reflect on what we may have learned and appreciated from all this time at home. 

I have seen several articles with questions that prompt such reflection.  Like these questions included in a recent newsletter. 
Pandemic Pondering

1.      What is something you did before the pandemic that you are looking forward to doing again?

2.      What is something you started to do during the pandemic that you hope to continue?

3.      What is something you did before the pandemic that you want to let go of?

4.      What is something you started to do during the pandemic that you will be happy to stop?

Winter landscape watercolor, by Louise

Early in the pandemic, last April maybe, I joined a visual arts online community hosted by Kate Gridley, an acclaimed artist who lives around the corner.  Open to anyone, this community has responded to Kate’s drawing prompts that have ranged from daily to weekly and met to share on Zoom on Thursday evenings. 

Last week the prompt was:  

Make an image, or several — a drawing, painting, photograph, collage — or a written commentary — just something personally meaningful — about something that is a vital part of your life TODAY that wasn’t a vital part of your life one year ago.

This is what I wrote: 

Taking it slow…staying put, appreciating staying put. 

The turn of the seasons, the days, the hours.  Seeing 365 days come and go without leaving (well hardly). 

Watching the birds, the light, the snow, the summer, the dramatic changes and the slow changes. 

Walking the land, the same land.  Our neighborhood, the Hurd Grasslands, Otter View Park, the Trail Around Middlebury.  

Snowshoeing, back country skiing.  Trying new things.  Making our own recreation.  Paddling on Otter Creek, on reservoirs, on lakes.  Loving the lapping water and the dappled reflections. 

Taking up the ukulele, taking lessons.  Baking sour dough bread.

Feeling very close to friends and family who I am in touch with regularly on a phone call, or a zoom call, or a walk, a snowshoe, or a ski.  

Becoming a better roommate to my husband, Ashley. 

The rhythm of the days, a relaxed pace, a chosen pace. 

The satisfaction of putting my whole self into things…writing, walking, thinking with colleagues and clients, being a friend, listening, reading, practicing yoga, knitting, drawing, painting, cooking.  

Most of the time, I feel grounded, free, centered, and grateful. 

At the beginning of all this, a year ago, if you had asked me to project out a year, I doubt I would have imagined such a reflection. 

My neighbor and college classmate has been making small quilted pieces to hang on the wall out of colorful scraps she had left from making over a hundred masks last spring.  She gifted one to her high school age grandson for his birthday and wrote, “This is a reminder that you can always help a little, and that beautiful things can come out of a hard time.” 

Sap Moon Sugarworks, Weybridge, Vermont

This year, we joined up with another neighbor and fellow classmate to offer sap from our tapped maple trees.  A group of neighbors all contribute sap, labor, and communal dinners for the long days of sap boiling and syrup making. They divide up the syrup at the end.  Bird told me, “No money ever comes onto the table…ever.” We donate everything and we give it all away.” 

We visited last year as COVID came roaring into our lives. This year, we have come full circle and are tapping our own sugar maple trees and joining the efforts of Sap Moon Sugarworks.  We feel so fortunate to be included. What a perfect way to celebrate the beginning of the end of this challenging, lonely year, bookended by sweetness, sugar, and friends and neighbors working the land together. 

We wish you all the very best as winter turns to spring, the buds swell, and the sap rises.  

Syrup, Sap Moon Sugar Works, Weybridge, Vermont