U.P. Reader -- Issue #3 E-Book

• Herausgeber: Modern History Press
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 231

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Michigan's Upper Peninsula is blessed with a treasure trove of storytellers, poets, and historians, all seeking to capture a sense of Yooper Life from settler's days to the far-flung future. Since 2017, the U.P. Reader offers a rich collection of their voices that embraces the U.P.'s natural beauty and way of life, along with a few surprises.
The twenty-three works in this third annual volume take readers on U.P. road and boat trips from the Keweenaw to the Soo. Every page is rich with descriptions of the characters and culture that make the Upper Peninsula worth living in and writing about. U.P. writers span genres from humor to history and from science fiction to poetry. This issue also includes imaginative fiction from the Dandelion Cottage Short Story Award winners, honoring the amazing young writers enrolled in all of the U.P.'s schools.
Featuring the words of Larry Buege, Mikel B. Classen, Deborah K. Frontiera, Jan Kellis, Amy Klco, David Lehto, Sharon Kennedy, Bobby Mack, Becky Ross Michael, T. Sanders, Donna Searight Simons and Frank Searight, Emma Locknane, Lucy Woods, Kaitlin Ambuehl, T. Kilgore Splake, Aric Sundquist, Ninie G. Syarikin, and Tyler R. Tichelaar.
"U.P. Reader offers a wonderful mix of storytelling, poetry, and Yooper culture. Here's to many future volumes!"
--Sonny Longtine, author of Murder in Michigan's Upper Peninsula
"As readers embark upon this storied landscape, they learn that the people of Michigan's Upper Peninsula offer a unique voice, a tribute to a timeless place too long silent." --Sue Harrison, international bestselling author of Mother Earth Father Sky "I was amazed by the variety of voices in this volume. U.P. Reader offers a little of everything, from short stories to nature poetry, fantasy to reality, Yooper lore to humor. I look forward to the next issue." --Jackie Stark, editor, Marquette Monthly
The U.P. Reader is sponsored by the Upper Peninsula Publishers and Authors Association (UPPAA) a non-profit 501(c)3 corporation. A portion of proceeds from each copy sold will be donated to the UPPAA for its educational programming.

Leseprobe

2019 | Issue #3

U.P. READER

Bringing Upper Michigan Literature to the World

A publication of the Upper Peninsula Publishers and Authors Association (UPPAA) Marquette, Michigan

www.UPReader.org

U.P. Reader

Issue #1 is still available!

Michigan’s Upper Peninsula is blessed with a treasure chest of writers and poets, all seeking to capture the diverse experiences of Yooper Life. Now U.P. Reader offers a rich collection of their voices that embraces the U.P.’s natural beauty and way of life, along with a few surprises.

The twenty-eight works in this first annual volume take readers on a U.P. Road Trip from the Mackinac Bridge to Menominee. Every page is rich with descriptions of the characters and culture that make the Upper Peninsula worth living in and writing about.

Available in paperback, hardcover, and eBook editions!

ISBN 978-1-61599-336-9

U.P. Reader: Bringing Upper Michigan Literature to the World -- Issue #3

Copyright © 2019 by Upper Peninsula Publishers and Authors Association (UPPAA). All Rights Reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Photo: "Sunset at the St. Helena lighthouse" by Mikel B. Classen. St. Helena Island is an uninhabited 240 acre island in the Lake Michigan about 10 miles west of Mackinac Island.

Learn more about the UPPAA at www.UPPAA.org

Latest news on UP Reader can be found at www.UPReader.org

ISSN: 2572-0961

ISBN 978-1-61599-447-2 paperback

ISBN 978-1-61599-448-9 hardcover

ISBN 978-1-61599-449-6 eBook

Managing Editor - Mikel B. Classen

Associate Editor and Copy Editor - Deborah K. Frontiera

Production Editor - Victor Volkman

Cover Photo - Mikel B. Classen

Interior Layout - Michal Splho

Distributed by Ingram (USA/CAN/AU), Bertram’s Books (UK/EU)

Published by

Modern History Press

5145 Pontiac Trail

Ann Arbor, MI 48105

www.ModernHistoryPress.com

[email protected]

CONTENTS

The Purloined Pastyby Larry Buege

The Amorous Spotted Slug (A Yooper Legend)by Larry Buege

Grand Island for a Grand Timeby Mikel B. Classen

#2 Pencilsby Deborah K. Frontiera

The Rolls K’Nardlyby Jan Kellis

Seeds of Changeby Amy Klco

The Lovers, the Dreamers, and Meby Amy Klco

The Best Trout I Never Ateby David Lehto

Pirates, Gypsies and Lumberjacksby David Lehto

Cut Meby Sharon Kennedy

The Demise of Christian Vicarby Sharon Kennedy

Warmthby Bobby Mack

Welcome to Texas, Heikki Lunta!by Becky Ross Michael

Aiding and Abettingby T. Sanders

Three Roadsby Donna Searight Simons and Frank Searight

Young U.P. Authors Section

Trouble with Terransby Emma Locknane

Stellaeby Lucy Woods

Freeby Kaitlin Ambuehl

Young Writers Encouraged to Submit to 2018 Dandelion Cottage Short Story Contest.

Becoming zenby T. Kilgore Splake

Good lifeby T. Kilgore Splake

Catching Fliesby Aric Sundquist

You Are Beautifulby Ninie G. Syarikin

The Snake Charmerby Ninie G. Syarikin

Summer of the Yellow Jacketsby Tyler R. Tichelaar

Help Sell The U.P. Reader!

Come join UPPAA Online!

The Purloined Pasty

by Larry Buege

Over the weekend, Mar quette city police received a two-eleven (robbery in progress) from an irate caller on the northwest corner of Presque Isle. Central Dispatch sent officers Koski and Beaudry to investigate. They discovered Wally Higgenbottom sitting in his deer blind near Sunset Point, his hunting rifle leaning forlornly against the wall of the deer blind. Wally’s wife arrived moments later. (She had been listening to the police scanner.)

“I think hunting season ended three weeks ago,” Officer Koski suggested. Wally shrugged his shoulders.

“I told him so,” his wife replied. “He never listens to me.”

Since Wally was not actively hunting when the officers arrived, no citation was issued. That would have generated more paperwork than Koski was willing to tolerate this close to the end of his shift.

“Central Dispatch said you were being robbed.” Officer Koski surveyed the spacious deer blind. A six-pack, bag of chips, and a dog-eared copy of an old Playboy Magazine rested on a wooden bench. “I don’t see anything missing.”

“My pasty’s missing. The swine stole my pasty. I had it lying here on my bench. I turned my head for a moment and it was gone. I saw the thief drag it out the door.”

“Can you describe the perpetrator?” Officer Koski took out his pad to take notes.

“The slimy thief was short—very short. And he had yellow skin.”

“Chinese?”

“No, his skin was canary-yellow and covered with red, heart-shaped spots. He had two knobby antennas protruding from his head.”

“He’s been drinking again,” Wally’s wife surmised.

“Anything else? Did he say anything?”

“He did blow me a kiss just before he scampered away with my pasty.”

A breathalyzer test revealed Wally was on the pleasant side of happy, but not legally drunk. Officer Koski closed his notepad; he had better things to do.

“Looky, looky,” Officer Beaudry pointed to a trail of slime leading out the door.

“That’s his trail,” Wally said. “I told you he was slimy.”

Officers Koski and Beaudry followed the trail through the door of the deer blind but quickly lost it in the underbrush.

“We need help,” Officer Koski declared. He made a call on his cell phone and twenty minutes later another officer arrived with Kasper the K-9 Kop in tow. The dog handler pushed Kasper’s nose into the slime and then turned him loose. Kasper loped off with a howl and disappeared into the woods. When the officers caught up to him, Kasper was vigilantly standing guard over a semi-circle of bakery crust—all that remained of a once-proud pasty.

“It was a decent pasty,” Wally proclaimed.

“I’m sure the end came quickly,” Officer Koski said.

“The pasty felt no pain,” Officer Beaudry suggested.

While the officers were consoling Wally, Kasper ate the remaining evidence.

“You do know Wally’s been drinking again,” his wife said.

“You’ll have to come back to the station and fill out a report,” Officer Beaudry said, ignoring the wife’s comment.

At the station, a police sketch artist drew a picture of the perpetrator from Wally’s description. The sketch was compared with a list of known Marquette County felons, but none had canary-yellow skin, with red heart-shaped spots and knobby antennas on his head. Working on a hunch, Officer Koski e-mailed the sketch to Professor Toivo Rantamaki. Rantamaki is the former chair of Paranormal Gastropod Psychology at Finlandia University, and is currently in the depths of the Amazon jungle researching his hypothesis that Amorous Spotted Slugs migrated from the Amazon jungle to the U.P. on a coconut during the Biblical Flood. Professor Rantamaki sent a timely reply confirming that the perpetrator was, indeed, an Amorous Spotted Slug!

“Amorous Spotted Slugs have a weakness for pasties and Mackinac Island fudge,” Rantamaki added. “Four husky Amorous Spotted Slugs can easily carry off a pasty.” Reaction to the Professor’s revelation was immediate and profound. Authorities not only had a description of the thief, they now had a motive.

“We will apprehend this ruthless thief and bring him to justice,” proclaimed the police chief. “Larceny of this magnitude will not be tolerated in Marquette. Not on my shift.”

“Wally’s been drinking again,” Wally’s wife suggested.

“We cannot judge all Amorous Spotted Slugs by the delinquent behavior of one miscreant A.S.S.,” said a spokesperson for Travel Mar quette. “We are hoping to make Marquette County the Amorous Spotted Slug capital of the U.P. It’ll generate millions of tourist dollars.”

Slug Lovers In Michigan Empowered released the following statement:

“Those of us at S.L.I.M.E. Headquarters extend our heart-filled sympathy for Mr. Higgenbottom’s tragic and senseless loss. Although Amorous Spotted Slugs will occasionally borrow a pasty or perhaps some Mackinac fudge, they are lovable and harmless creatures and represent the preeminent virtues of the U.P., which is why we hope to make the Amorous Spotted Slug the official State Slug. The Lower Peninsula has the official State Stone (Petoskey Stone) and the official State Soil (Kalkaska Sand). It is only fitting that the U.P. have the official State Slug. To further our cause, we are asking U.P. residents to report all A.S.S. sightings to our website (www.AmorousSpottedSlug.com).”

The Marquette Mining Journal tried to contact Wally Higgenbottom for comment, but he was busy—he was at an AA meeting.

The Amorous Spotted Slug (A Yooper Legend)

by Larry Buege

Oral history, conveyed through innumerable generations, suggests Amorous Spotted Slugs migrated to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula from the depths of the Amazon jungle. According to the local folklore, a primitive tribe of Amorous Spotted Slugs discovered a flyer nailed to the trunk of a jungle palm tree. “Free Ocean Cruise,” the flyer boasted. “Animals of All Kinds Welcome.” The ship would sail (rain or shine) in thirty days. A gentleman by the name of Noah was organizing the excursion.

By nature, Amorous Spotted Slugs are party animals. So the entire tribe signed up for the cruise and set off on the long trek to the port of departure. After a thirty-day forced march, they had traveled forty-two inches. Then the heavens unleashed a great downpour, and water inundated the low lands and began to cover the earth.

“Help, what shall we do?” one of the slugs cried out.

“We are doomed,” replied a unicorn splashing through a nearby puddle, “but you can save yourselves.” The unicorn pushed a floating coconut toward the slugs with his horn, and the Amorous Spotted Slugs quickly scampered aboard.

It rained forty days and forty nights, and water covered the land. The Amorous Spotted Slugs crafted a sail from a lily pad, but there was nowhere for the Coconut Clipper, as they now called their vessel, to sail. During a particularly violent storm, lightning struck the Coconut Clipper, knocking its crew on their posteriors. Fortunately, that segment of the average Amorous Spotted Slug’s anatomy is built low to the ground. When they regained consciousness, they began experiencing visions of the future. The electrical charge had altered their brain chemistry, making them clairvoyant.

One such vision suggested the water would part once the days began to wane and the nights became longer. The Coconut Clipper would then come to rest in a paradise exceeding their wildest desires. Finally, the days did begin to wane and the nights did become longer, but none of the voyagers was awake to greet the summer solstice. The Coconut Clipper jolted to a rest on Presque Isle, (now part of modern-day Marquette, Michigan). The sudden stop awoke one of the Amorous Spotted Slugs. He looked out at the virgin timber and lush green underbrush—this had to be the paradise of their vision.

“Yoo-pee! Yoo-pee!” he yelled to awaken the others. The remaining Amorous Spotted Slugs awoke and looked at the awaiting paradise.

“Yoo-pee! Yoo-pee!” they echoed. The name of the new land stuck and the Amorous Spotted Slugs became the first Yoo-pers.

To commemorate their long voyage, Amorous Spotted Slugs now celebrate the summer solstice (or “Yoo-pee, Yoo-pee” day as they refer to it) with a Thanksgiving Feast of pasties and Mackinac Island fudge. For dessert they serve coconut cream pie in tribute to the Great Coconut that carried them to the Promised Land.

Larry Buege’s short stories have received regional and international (English speaking) awards. He has also authored nine novels including the ever-popular Chogan Native American series. More information about his novels can be found at www.Gastropodpublishing.com or by contacting the author directly at [email protected]. For a tongue in cheek look at the campaign to make the Amorous Spotted Slug our state slug, please visit www.AmorousSpottedSlug.com/

Arch Rock on Mackinac Island (1900)

Grand Island for a Grand Time

by Mikel B. Classen

Trout Bay – west side

Munising Bay is a beautiful and popular destination for travelers who want to see the finest that the Lake Superior basin can provide. Home of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore, an unusual amount of waterfalls, the United States’ only underwater preserve, and the majestic Grand Island, the bay is a rare place indeed. In May of 1990, Grand Island was acquired by the U.S. Forest Service and designated by congress as a National Recreation Area. Now much of the island is in public hands, and between its history and natural beauty, it is worth the small effort it takes to spend some time there.

Grand Island is most times seen from an overlook in Munising, yet a side trip to the island can be a special experience. Williams’ Landing on Grand Island is one of the oldest place names on Lake Superior, and Abraham Williams and his wife were one of the first settlers to brave life on the Lake Superior frontier. The history here shaped life all along the Superior shoreline.

The 13,000 acre Grand Island, just offshore Munising in the bay, complements Pictured Rocks, though it is not a part of the national park. It is a separate entity that is under the control of the U.S. Forest Service and not the National Park Service. Not nearly as famous, it is less known as a destination. This affords a much quieter and personal experience for an individual or a family.

Currently, a visit to the island is very private, and can be an exceptionally rewarding experience. There are established primitive campsites on the south end of the island at Murray and Trout Bays. They are within two miles of where the ferry puts in at Williams’ Landing. There are tent sites all around the island, but in the summer months reservations are required. There are a couple of cabins that can be rented. These are reasonably new and are very nice to stay in.

Grand Island is a paradise for silent sports. Hiking, biking, and paddling are all encouraged. Trails crisscross the island, making most places of note accessible. For paddlers, in Murray Bay are two shipwrecks that are in shallow water, visible from the surface. Buoys mark their locations. Grand Island is designated as part of the Lake Superior Water Trail.

One of the trails is a history loop. It meanders through the settlement of Williams’ Landing. Many of the original old homes and homesteads still stand. Several are still lived in as private residences, and are not a part of the recreation area. Their privacy should be respected.

Grand Island and Williams’ Landing was one of the earliest settlements on Lake Superior. When Lewis Cass led his expedition in 1832, Abraham Williams was already here. The only older inhabited places on Lake Superior are Sault Ste. Marie, and Grand Portage. There once was a small Native American community that lived alongside of them.

Over time, the island evolved into a resort destination. The distinctive barn-shaped Williams Hotel, which is recognizable on the shore, was a destination for the rich and elite. It now is in private hands and can only be viewed from the water.

Because of the island’s popularity, a tycoon by the name of Mather decided he would build the ultimate hunting lodge. He purchased a large tract of land on the northwest side of the island and built a magnificent lodge on the shoreline. He then stocked his new hunting lodge with exotic game animals. He had them imported from around the world. Unfortunately many of them couldn’t take the severe Lake Superior climate and died. The lodge was a failure. It still stands on the west side of Grand Island, looking out over its own quiet bay.

During prohibition, the north side of the island was used as a dropping place for illegal booze. Caves are carved into the rocks and the bootleggers would leave casks of liquor there. Later, someone from the mainland would come by and pick it up when the coast was clear.

Stone Quarry Cabin

Cemetery

For many years, the island was owned by Cleveland Cliffs Iron (CCI) and then the U.S. Forest Service took it over. Their mandate was to turn it into an interpretive recreation area. They have done just that. Highlighting the natural and the historic, Grand Island is a treat for the senses as well as the imagination. Signs placed throughout the island help interpret and visualize the whole that is Grand Island and its past.

A ferry service runs from the mainland to the island from May to the beginning of October. There is all-day ferry service for both passengers and gear, including bikes and kayaks. You can even rent some from them right there at the ferry. The only vehicles allowed on the island belong to the residents and the U.S. Forest Service. Snowmobiles are allowed in the winter, and ATVs only after October.

The two established campgrounds at Murray and Trout Bays have camping sites, but camping is allowed throughout Grand Island where there are established tent sites. The U.S. Forest Service has made some incredible choices for site locations. Nowhere in the park are you far from a designated campsite. Water sources and pit toilets are also scattered about the island along the trails.

In the winter, Grand Island has become the place of choice for snowmobilers and cross-country skiers. Past winters have seen estimated visitors numbering over 3,000 visiting the unique winter wonderland that the island has to offer. From January through March, the bay is frozen solid and access to the island is safe and simple. Powell Point Landing, which is one mile west of Munising, is the closest access from the mainland, and it is only a half-mile jaunt across to Williams’ Landing on Grand Island. From there you are free to travel the seemingly endless miles of trails and roads that provide some of the finest winter fun the U.P. can offer.

Ice climbing has become the new exciting winter sport that is seeing quite a few enthusiasts in the winter. Many of the cliffs seep spring water, and in the frigid months, these freeze into giant ice columns. With the right kind of gear and skills, the sport is exhilarating and is attracting new participants all the time.

Grand Island is like a smaller version of Isle Royale that is a lot closer and easier to get to. It can be enjoyed in a day or as long as your time allows. It is a showplace for nature that displays the variety and beauty that is so prevalent in the Munising area. No matter what time of year, the island lives up to its name. From the immense ice formations that hang from the shoreline cliffs, to the intense fall colors that adorn the mixed hardwood and pine forest, to the lush colors of spring and summer, there is ever changing beauty that will present something different every trip.

Grand Island is a recreation playground that is in a class by itself. The island is accessible to all, and there will be no one who can’t enjoy Grand Island in whatever adventure they want. The island is a wonderful experience that few are making use of. At the height of the summer season, there are many campsites available and a day trip to the island either hiking or biking can be a great way to get acquainted with the place. Spending time in this Alger County paradise should be a part of any Munising area trip. Go beyond the overlook and take some time to not just look at the view, but experience it firsthand.

Mikel B. Classen has been writing about northern Michigan in newspapers and magazines for over thirty-five years, creating feature articles about the life and culture of Michigan’s north country. Currently he is Managing Editor of the U.P. Reader and chair of the UPPAA Publications Committee.

Classen makes his home in the oldest city in Michigan, historic Sault Ste. Marie. He is also a collector of out-of-print history books, historical photographs and prints of Upper Michigan. At Northern Michigan University, he studied English, history, journalism and photography. He lives with his wife, Mary L. Underwood, and his Labrador retriever, Gidget.

His books include Au Sable Point Lighthouse, Beacon on Lake Superior’s Shipwreck Coast;, Teddy Roosevelt and the Marquette Libel Trial, Lake Superior Tales and Journeys into the Macabre.

To learn more about Mikel B. Classen and to see more of his work, go to his website at www.mikelclassen.com.

Thunder Cove

Lighthouse in East Channel

#2 Pencils

by Deborah K. Frontiera

Whenever I look at a pencil—especially those plain, yellow, six-sided #2 pencils—school, and therefore teachers, come to mind. Pencils and teachers—they are forever intertwined. My personal favorite pencil was the #4 because the harder lead stayed sharp longer. I detest dull pencils. Since the advent of the standardized tests which require a #2, I’m not even sure if they make #4 anymore. Those fill-in-the-bubble tests made their debut while I was in high school, and we had to take the ACT or SAT for college entrance. There were no prep classes and all the nonsense there is today. Our test prep was to get a good night’s sleep and to eat a hearty breakfast on the day of the test, and don’t forget—you have to bring #2 pencils.

Our teachers simply taught their subject matter. Some of them better than others, of course. Some of them more memorable than others—for better and for worse. So begins this mind ramble about pencils and teachers.

•••

Mrs. T came to my name on her sixth grade class roster, “De-BOR-ah Olson.”

Indignant, I responded, “It’s DEB-or-ah, preferably Debbie.” She glared at me over the top of her reading glasses and down her pointed witch’s nose, and called out the next name.

Okay, we both set a bad tone for the first day of the school year, but SHE started it! Or maybe my four older siblings, who had also had Mrs. T for their sixth grade teacher, set up the bad reputation for our family name. That’s a good possibility since another teacher—the high school math teacher whom I would meet in the next year in 7th grade—had this response when he saw my name on the roster, “Another Olson?!”

“Don’t worry; I’m the last one,” was my response that time. Mr. M and I did get along, though, even if I wasn’t his top math student—never had much of a sense of mathematical logic.

That lack of mathematic sense was due in a large part to Mrs. T, who taught strictly by rote memorization of the “rules” of adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing. Mrs. T. probably taught by rote because that was how she had learned. Looking back, she probably didn’t understand the basic concepts herself, couldn’t explain them, and therefore taught the way she was taught, and God help you if you asked a question she couldn’t answer!

I did that—asked questions—a lot! I was always asking her questions she couldn’t answer. Did I do it on purpose? Yes and no. I was curious. I wanted to know about a lot of things. I’d always been a question-asker, but I don’t remember my previous elementary teachers being so bugged by my questions. Maybe I asked simpler questions at those younger ages and my previous teachers could still answer them. But by 6th grade, I was trying mightily to put some logic to this math stuff—and I have a very strange sense of logic.

When we began to work on multiplying and dividing fractions, my sense of logic completely fell apart. “Mrs. T,” I asked one day, in my best voice, not wanting to be yelled at—again—but genuinely wanting an explanation, “why is it that when you multiply numbers, you get bigger numbers, but when you multiply fractions, you get smaller fractions?” It really made NO sense to me at all. (Much later in college, I would finally understand that multiplying fractions “thing” when I had a class called “Math for Elementary Teachers” that actually explained the concept and also how to teach it.)

It was silent for maybe a minute. Mrs. T. finally spoke, “Well, because that’s the way it is. Multiplying means ‘of’: two groups OF two are four; and ½ OF ¼ is 1/8.”

I was not satisfied. I asked again. Her response was the same, but her tone the second time was clearly irritated. “I still don’t understand. Why is the answer smaller?”

Mrs. T’s third response was that I should be quiet, listen, pay attention, and let her get on with the lesson. Too bad Mrs. T didn’t have all the fancy drawings, charts, pictures and technology available today that would have let me get a clear picture of what she was talking about. But they didn’t teach it that way back then.

That year was very uncomfortable for me. Mrs. T made me sit right in front of her desk, her nose always looking down on me condescendingly, like I was nobody and should just keep my mouth shut. Often, she didn’t even call on me when my hand was up—even to answer a question, because I’d ask a question before I answered hers.

I hated sixth grade. I soaped her windows thoroughly on the night before Halloween! That was the tradition in the village of Lake Linden where I grew up. October 30th was Fawkes Night. I think it came from an English tradition about some man named Guy Fawkes who snatched something valuable from under the eyes of English military guards, and then actually put it back the next night—or so we were told. There were a lot of “Cousin Jack” English in Lake Linden (balancing out the French Canadians) which is probably the reason we had such a “celebration.” Now, the actual history behind it had something to do with planting explosives in the Parliament building in England on Nov. 5, 1605—and there was a lot of Catholic/Protestant stuff behind it—you can look it up on the internet if you are interested. For us, Oct. 30/Fawkes Night, had to do with playing tricks on people like rubbing dry soap bars on windowpanes, overturning trash cans, and other such fairly harmless pranks.

I got my revenge on Mrs. T’s windows and then I did what I had to do for the rest of the school year and endured Mrs. T. She receives an F on my teacher report card.

•••

Much later in life, when I chose teaching for a career, I realized Mrs. T had taught me an excellent lesson: Do not be that kind of teacher!

When I became a kindergarten teacher, I put those “do nots” to use in my own classroom. I embraced my children’s crazy senses of logic and guided them through such things without belittling them.

An example: The nickel should be 10 cents and the dime 5 because the nickel is bigger—therefore worth more in a five-year-old’s sense of logic.

“I know it doesn’t seem to make sense,” I would respond. “Yes, it seems that the bigger coin should be worth more, because the quarter is worth the most, but somebody else decided the dime is 10 cents and you just have to remember it. I’m sorry.” (Fifty-cent pieces had pretty much disappeared by then, or at least were not introduced in kindergarten.)

Or: “Mommy taught me to print my name with all big letters.”

“Yes, and she did a really good job of it, too. You write your name very well. That’s the ‘home’ way you learned and you can keep doing that at home. Now I’m teaching you the ‘kindergarten’ way to write your name, and we use one big letter and the rest little.”

Or the day the two Spanish-speaking children came to me on the playground.

“Se habla Espanol?”

“Mui poco,” (Very little—which was a stretch because I could barely count to ten and say the above phrase properly.)