Glenn MO in MO: Storms, Storm Troopers, Harry Potter, the school of my childhood, and sitting in my father's chair

I had forgotten what a good Missouri rainstorm feels like. How it starts with the smell in the air and a heaviness. The green of the grass merges into sky and the drops begin to fall. There is so much more water in each drop than I remembered - drops so heavy the leaves bounce with their weight. Lightning strobes and the thunder sounds like cannon fire - resonating long after it shakes your insides. The ground turns to swamp as the water seeps up over shoes, trying to suck them down into the earth. Mom and Dad would call them real "gully washers." Umbrellas are useless; resistance is futile. 

And just like that  - my day began - "fresh as a Missouri morning."

But around here, the weather changes as quickly as I change my mind - or my shoes (ask my husband about that). On this visit - I had a chance to explore the grounds of my childhood elementary school. Shepherd Boulevard School was designed as a neighborhood school. It turns out people were pretty smart about education around here in the early 70s - and they created this amazing little school that raised a generation of students who were some of the most tight-knit group of friends a person could imagine. I recall people in my high school commenting that the Shepherd kids had some kind of special bond. As an educator now myself, I think back and recognize some of the strategies. Small class sizes, a dynamic principal, and engaging teachers. It helped that there were only 2 classes per grade level. We were always together - and teachers often team taught.

As I walked the grounds where my formal education began, so many memories flooded my mind. I remember the games we played at recess. We had to have great imaginations - there wasn't much of a playground to speak of.  My students now don't believe me when I tell them that we didn't have swings or slides or teeter totters. - we had giant cement culvert tubes, metal bars, and gray gravel to cushion our falls. I can't count the number of times I came home with bloodied knees, gravel embedded. But to us- the cement tubes became horses as our wagon train made its way though unknown territories. The gravel was an archaeologist's dream - as we sifted and picked the crinoid fossils out. The bars became ships and places we could challenge one another to contests of strength, endurance, and full-on tag wars. The stakes were high, alright. How many of my classmates lost a tooth or risked the cuts and scrapes to master the monkey bars? Who remembers playing Little House on the Prairie because Miss Allard read us the books or their special day when Mrs. Heitgard made us royalty of the day - or the amazing swap meets in Mrs. White and Mrs Fischer's classes - where we learned how to spend and budget money using real world application - as 5th graders?

One of the climbing devices at the Shepherd Blvd Elementary School Playground.
I can't believe it's still there!

All of this swept over me as Mom and I chatted and walked and talked about how much things have changed and how much is still the same.


Sultry afternoons in Missouri do wash into hot summer nights - and this visit I got to attend a concert series of this same name by the Missouri Symphony Orchestra. This evening it was a stunning performance of selections of music from all of the Harry Potter Films in the first half - and selections from all of the Star Wars films after intermission. The musicians had dressed the parts - with numerous Hogwarts robes, Hagrid, and even Hedwig arrived on the conductor's arm. There's were also Luke Skywalkers, Princess Leias, and storm troopers. Although I was disappointed there was no Chewie, the music was magical and out of this world. The best part - though- was sitting in the gorgeous Missouri Theatre in the balcony seat that bore my father's name. As I peered over the balcony - I remembered this was the very theatre where I saw the original Star Wars when it was first released. I think I went back at least seven times. It was truly groundbreaking. The Missouri Theatre was also a place we  kids could escape the prying eyes of adults for a few short hours. My parents thought nothing of dropping me off at the movies with friends. The movie theatre was hard on the historic structure - so when the Missouri Symphony Society decided to buy and refurbish it - my dad and mom spent their spare time on hands and knees repairing chairs and scraping gum. Now here I was, sitting in a chair with his name on it, enjoying a concert in the theatre they worked so hard to save.

Program from the Hot Summer Nights concert

Larry Morehouse nameplate on the balcony seat - front row at the Missouri Theatre.

The Playhouse at Stephens College - another theatre that saved me.

Lessons learned:

1. Sone days it's ok just to stay inside and enjoy the sound of the rain.

2. Entire worlds can and have been created from steel pipes, cement tubes, and a child's imagination.

3. Whether we save the theatre, or the theatre saves us - theatre saves.

On the Road to MO

On the road again...

Prologue:
I put away my blogging hat once I returned from Scotland last summer - probably because the title of my Blog is so accurate. I really am always on the go. As a teacher, my schedule seems to get so full during the school year that I forget that writing is one of the things that brings me joy - and yes - even helps me make sense out of life. As my husband says, "Writing is thinking." So here I am, facing another summer of possibilities and hoping I can take the time to write about thoughts, experiences, and life in a way that offers clarity, humanity, insight - and maybe a little humor.

The demolition and work on the theatre has begun.

This summer has started the way many others have - my school year bleeds into June as I prepare for Spotlight Showcase and start rehearsals for the Children's Theatre I run in the summers. But this year because of building construction, we have no place to perform. It was a bit of a welcomed break, however, because I am rehearsing the show my theatre students will be taking to Edinburgh, Scotland in August. Instead of working with 2nd graders through high schoolers, I found myself scrambling for rehearsal space for our Showcase Medley of Beauty and the Beast and a potential rehearsal and performance space where we might preview our Scotland show (Hearts Like Fists) before we take it abroad.

Our cast of Beauty and the Beast on the stage of the State Theatre
in Minneapolis for Spotlight Awards

Rehearsing Hearts Like Fists at Sandhill Center for the Arts.

With some generous help from our Community Ed Coordinator, a friend from Anoka Ramsey Community College, and Natalie Johnson's garage - we have pieced together a rehearsal schedule in three different spaces, and secured a spot for a Bon Voyage show. My summer began as I took over the family Suburban with lugging stage blocks and costumes from space to space.

The Cast of Hearts Like Fists

Rehearsal at Sandhill Center for the Arts

On the Road:
With all of that in the works - I scheduled in some time to take a road trip back to Missouri to visit Mom. I had hoped it wouldn't be a solitary drive, but it turns out the rest of my family is as busy as I am - so yesterday I gassed up the Prius and hit the road - solo.

Highway 63 North just before the Stadium Blvd. Exit for the Shepherd neighborhood I grew up in. 

There is something to be said about taking a long road trip by yourself. It afforded something I found I'd been missing - time to think. As the city of Minneapolis melted into suburbs and then countryside, the 500 mile drive helped me find a piece of myself that had been hiding, or maybe just neglected. I allowed my mind to wander into memories, stretch out to the future, and value the present. As a metaphor for life, a road trip is good one.

Mom's ficus tree - after the storm

Over the 8 1/2 hour drive, I experienced all kinds of weather. I powered through a rainstorm near Mason City that almost made me pull off the road. I could barely see the tail lights of the car in front of me or the white lines beside me. As in life, I experienced the fear of not feeling in control - of not seeing the path clearly - of questioning my decisions at each curve. In the midst of the storm, my focus had to be on what was in front of me. When the storm finally broke, I felt my muscles relax and my confidence return.

This trip also gave me time to listen to much of the music in my phone's music library. I haven't really just sat and listened to music for pure enjoyment in a very long time. The Prius is a small car, but it held the voices of Alison Karauss, Aretha Franklin, Bonnie Raitt, Brandi Carlile, Cyndy Lauper, Liza Minnelli, Sutton Foster, The Dixie Chicks, Indigo Girls, Jennifer Knapp, Jewell, Martina McBride, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Nanci Griffith, Sara Bareilles, and hundreds of Broadway belters. I thought about my world recently, and how that may be exactly what I'd been missing - the voices of strong women with passionate stories to tell. Because even though women have been writing, and singing, and creating since time began, we are still struggling to be heard.

It made me think of the extraordinary moment in Tony Awards history the week before - where  Hadestown won the first Tony award in history led by an all female principal team. Director Rachel Chavkin's impassioned speech nailed it: "...we heal ourselves through song and through each other...Life is a team sport and so is walking out of Hell. It's about whether you can keep faith when you are made to feel alone...I wish I wasn’t the only woman directing a musical on Broadway this season. There are so many women who are ready to go, there are so many artists of color who are ready to go. And we need to see that racial diversity and gender diversity reflected in our critical establishment too. This is not a pipeline issue. It is a failure of imagination by a field whose job is to imagine the way the world could be. So let’s do it.”

And that made me think of the strong woman I was on my way to see. The first memory I have is  being rocked in a rocking chair and hearing my mother's voice singing to me. She raised me up, never doubting I could succeed at anything I set my mind to. She went to college, she worked, she volunteered, she raised children, she taught kindness, she told us stories, she sang us songs, she took us to the basement and held us tight until the storms had passed over - and she taught us - no matter how it might feel, we are never on the road alone.

Mom and I looked at some photos together my first night home, and read some of her diary entries.

Mom's backyard garden after the rain

Mom's backyard garden after the rain

Home sweet home

Lessons Learned:

1. After the storm, the clarity returns and the windshield is cleaner, and even when you get hit with the back spray from a giant semi-truck, you know you can make it farther down the road.

2. You're never alone when you have the company of good, strong women.

3. It's a journey to go home, but it's worth it when mom is there to welcome you in.