Author, Teacher, Creativity Coach

I have memories from before I was two years old. Vivid recollections that have been verified by my parents. But the ones that remain most powerful for me as the ones that filled me with wonder about people—especially myself. Why am I me? Why am I in this body? I wondered about my thoughts and feelings—and everyone else's, too. I had a strong internal sense of justice—what I determined to be right or wrong. When family trauma appeared, I tried to fix it, tried to be what everyone else needed. Being able to see that in others helped me be a good teacher and to see gifts in everything. 

I grew up in the lakes and pines of northern Minnesota. As a kid, I loved building forts in the woods and snow. I loved canoeing in rivers, ice-skating on frozen lakes, swimming in them when they were warm, calling loons, sneaking up on rabbits, climbing trees, and exploring any new outdoor setting. Now I live on a Pacific Northwest island where everything is bigger—the water, hills, trees—and I'm still exploring!

My mom liked to tell a story about taking me along to a Sunday school class she taught when I was three. As she tried to get the group of older kids to sing louder at a program, I was the only one who complied. I loved to dance when she played piano. Mom said we had to take piano lessons for five years before we could decide if we wanted them. She said we'd thank her some day. Thanks, Mom.

We didn't have a local library, but my grandmother, who was a teacher, gave us books. My mom read to us, and we always saw her reading. I remember Mrs. Jacobson, our school librarian, reading us Winnie the Pooh in first grade. I felt honored that she trusted us to understand a big book like that.

I've always loved doodling, and when I was a kid I won a Tonka firetruck in a poster contest. My mom would volunteer to make posters for events and then have me do them. If you asked me back then what I wanted to be when I grew up, I'd say, "an artist!" 

Our trick or treating included  asking for donations to Unicef. We also sold poppies to support veterans.  When my mom saw issues that hurt people in our town, she showed up at city and school meetings. My dad would drop whatever he was doing to help out anyone. It was expected of us, too. I petitioned to let girls take shop class, I made the neighborhood boys allow girls to play baseball with them, I took gun safety classes, not so much for interest in hunting as a statement. 

I thought the items above were unrelated activities—but no! When I connect the dots, I see I've continued to follow my love of nature, dabbling in the arts, writing, and supporting and speaking up for others. Teaching nature studies and environmental education courses, becoming a music and classroom teacher and a teacher-librarian, completing a master's degree project on teaching writing, facilitating continuing education courses for writing teachers, founding and directing an arts-based school (using four pillars of Self, Others, Nature, and Art), and becoming a creativity coach were all part of my path—as well as themes that regularly show up in my writing! And I still wonder who I am. How about you?