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Tap dancing on toilets and other library adventures
I have been in the public library business since 1991—one or more decades than I care to admit. The trials and joys of serving the public always are discussed whenever library employees gather. There always is the funny story, the scary story and the story that just grabs at your heartstrings. People don’t acquaint workers in libraries with police officers, EMTs, social workers, parents, grandparents or diplomats, but good library employees are the best of these rolled into one.
Often when you tell people you are a librarian, they sigh and say “Oh, I would love to work in a library, it is so quiet and all you do is read.” There could be nothing farther from the truth, and I often have joked that I am going to grab the first employment opportunity listed as, “Please come to our idyllic community and lead our peaceful library where nothing ever happens, and all you have to do is read.” Every librarian in the world would be angling for that job…or would they?
If nothing ever happens at that library, you would miss seeing a child sign up for his first library card and trying to contain a smile when he brings the biggest book he can find to the desk for check out. You would miss the glowing young couple who come in for wedding-planning magazines, who then come in for materials about buying a house and about pregnancy and childbirth. You would miss those sad days when a favorite patron comes in, takes you aside and asks for a book about cancer. Hopefully, that patron returns and tells you she or her daughter is now cancer free, and you can celebrate with her. You would miss the chaos of Summer Reading Club programs, the concert that attracts more people than you have seats or the classroom of students who drop in without warning. That library would be dull, indeed.
My first library job was as Young Adult Services Librarian at the Ludington Public Library in my hometown of Ludington. After six years in that position, I became library director. LPL was the library where I spent many hours of my youth. By the time I was hired, the Carnegie Library building had been expanded with a modern addition that dwarfed the original building and completely changed its character. The windows leaked and the HVAC system never worked—universal problems for just about every library building I have ever seen.
The Carnegie building had a wonderful mansard roof and ivy-covered walls. One of my most controversial moves as library director was to have the ivy removed so the building could be repaired. That lovely ivy had started to grow into the basement windows and through weak mortar in the foundation. The maintenance man realized the extent of the damage one holiday season when he could hear the Salvation Army Bell ringer, located several blocks away, while he was in the basement. The ivy, some with stalks as large as a man’s arm, was growing in and out of the foundation. That summer, the ivy was removed and the mortar restored. The building is ivyless to this day, a point my husband never fails to mention whenever we visit.
A former employee of the Ludington Public Library gained notoriety several years ago with a book that chronicled some of the more colorful patrons she had met while employed at the library. Her employment was terminated, and she tried to make the termination a censorship issue. I did read her book, and it was poorly written, in addition to being hateful and derogatory. Yes, Ludington, just like any community had its colorful characters, but many of them did the best they could with the hand they were dealt. They did not deserve to be ridiculed.
I don’t know if Ludington’s proximity to Traverse City and the mental hospital that was there for many years was the reason Ludington attracted so many persons with mental illness, but the community seemed to have more than its share. One of my favorites was an older gentleman who was in the library everyday. I never knew his name or his story. He would nod at the staff and infrequently issue a short greeting. He would carry on a conversation with two or three other people who were in his head in a normal tone of voice, so they were overheard easily. I nicknamed him “Little Tree” because he would frequently talk to Big Tree and say, “You are the Big Tree and I am the Little Tree.” He would go on about what the trees were going to do, often deferring to the wishes of the Big Tree. He never caused any trouble and seemed to be clean and well fed, so someone was watching out for him.
I have a mother-daughter combination that haunts me to this day. The mother probably was in her thirties and the daughter about two or three. It was easy to see the mother was intelligent, but her life was impacted by mental illness and hard knocks. The daughter was bright and inquisitive. Unfortunately, her mother did not take the best care of her . . .
—Pam Christensen
Learning to walk together
A pow wow is a time for people
to come together and celebrate life:
our good way of life.
Our children learn our ways at pow wows,
our elders teach and share stories at pow wows,
our families come together as one nation to sing and dance.
The Native American Student Association (NASA) invites you to the “Learning to Walk Together” traditional pow wow, which will be celebrating its eighteenth anniversary on March 13. The event will be held at Vandament Arena on the NMU campus.
The name “Learning to Walk Together” originated because of where the committee was eighteen years ago—at an institution of higher learning in different stages of learning about the traditional Native path, and we about each other. But the name rings true today as well, as all of us at Northern Michigan University attempt to “walk together” amidst the perplexity surrounding diversity issues.
The pow wow is not only for American Indian students. NASA offers answers to frequently asked questions about what is going on at the pow wow and some norms to consider.
• What’s going on? A pow wow is a celebratory event. There are dances, songs, good food and great company. The arena is where most of a pow wow takes place—it includes the actual circle where the dancers dance and where eagle staffs are placed. Most pow wows have three sessions: two sessions on Saturday and one session on Sunday.
• What times does it start? Each session begins with the Grand Entry, which will be held at noon and 6:00 p.m. due to the one-day event. The grand entry is where all the veterans bring in the eagle staffs and nation flags. Dancers follow into the dance circle. Within each session there will be a Flag Song, Veteran Song, Exhibition Songs and Intertribal songs. Between the two sessions on Saturday there is a feast generally held at 4:00 p.m. at the Jacobetti Center. The feast also is open for participants and those attending the pow wow; however, it is respectful for elders, singers and dancers to eat first. The hand drum contest will take place during the feast.
• What do the songs mean? Drum groups and singers travel many miles to attend pow wows, and will sing, giving their all to make the pow wow successful. Good drums draw the best dancers. There are so many types of songs—literally thousands—that to newcomers that can be the most puzzling aspect of a pow wow. It is not uncommon to hear someone say, “I didn’t know you were singing different songs.” Every song has unique characteristics and subtle effects. It takes some time for a newcomer to adjust to hearing the intricate differences in songs beyond the obvious.
• What do the dances mean? There are six major styles of dances in this area: Traditional, Jingle Dress and Fancy Shawl for women and Traditional, Grass Dance and Fancy Bustle for men. Each style is unique and, for most of the dancers, each of their outfits is made especially to represent something to them (i.e. clan, colors or tribe).
• Why is this important? Pow wows are important to Native people because they are one way we celebrate who we are as Native people. We celebrate our culture, we honor our elders, we teach our children. We celebrate life. We celebrate the importance of life.
• Who is putting this on? The Native American Student Association is the primary host. The committee works much of the year planning and preparing for this event. The students decide aspects of a pow wow, such as finances, selection of head staff, location, date and more. The task often is overwhelming and it takes many people to plan it successfully. This year’s pow wow committee chairperson is NMU senior Steve Knauf from Sault Ste. Marie.
Tips for newcomers
• Find out if the pow wow has a printed program guide. This will help guide you in what is going on, and offer specifics about each dance style and different songs.
• Always listen to the Emcee. The Emcee is the person responsible for setting the tempo for a pow wow. A good emcee will give all of the information you need, as well as entertain and keep you posted on news.
• Always stand during special songs. This includes Grand Entry, Flag Songs, Veteran Songs, Memorial Songs, Prayer or Whistle Songs, or any other song that the emcee designates. It also is respectful to remove hats for the duration of that song.
• Do not sit right around the arena. These chairs are reserved for the dancers, singers and family members of dancers and singers.
• Ask permission before taking pictures or video. Many dancers are sensitive about pictures, so it is good to be on the safe side and ask. While there are many beautiful outfits; some believe these outfits are sacred. It is respectful to offer tobacco when asking for a photo and to give a small gift of thanks (such as a pop or water) once the photo has been taken.
• Remember: you are a guest. Have fun, ask questions and meet people. Everyone is welcome.
The Native American Student Association is looking for volunteers to help throughout the weekend.
Call the Center for Native American Studies at 227-1397 for details.
—April Lindala
Finnish fiction to usher in St. Urho’s Day
Tales from a Finnish Tupa
by James Cloyd Bowman
and Margery Bianco
First published in 1936, Tales from a Finnish Tupa has been reprinted in this new edition by the University of Minnesota Press. Its coauthors will be familiar names to many readers. Margery Bianco is best known as the author of the classic children’s book The Velveteen Rabbit. James Cloyd Bowman (1880-1961), an English Professor at Northern State Teacher’s College (today’s NMU), wrote many children’s books, including The Adventures of Paul Bunyan and Mystery Mountain, the latter set in a fictional Marquette and focusing around the former Hotel Superior. Bowman won the Newberry Award for Pecos Bill in 1938.
Although Tales from a Finnish Tupa is more than seventy years old, the stories included have not lost their charm or magic for readers, young and old. Bowman and Bianco gathered a collection of the best folktales from various books and sources to provide a readable, entertaining introduction to Finnish folklore for young readers. As the authors state in a note at the end, “Older readers will wonder how these ancient people knew so much of the deeper meaning of life, and youth will revel in the brave deeds of adventure and romance, and in the picturesque strangeness of wild nature.”
I was won over by the very first story in which a king agrees to give his daughter in marriage to the first man who can bring to the palace a ship that can sail both on land and on sea. As with many stories, there are three brothers, and it is Noki, the youngest, a chimney sweep, who will succeed in the quest. The story is familiar, following typical fairy tale patterns, yet it has a more magical and positive feel than many darker, better known stories.
Noki has the Finnish quality of sisu, as displayed when the king says he will not give his daughter’s hand to a poor chimney sweep. “But O King, I am rich,” said Noki. “I have my happy heart and I have my dreams. Yes, and I have four faithful friends with me in my ship.” Noki’s positive attitude and understanding of true riches far exceeds his need for wealth. The friends he mentions he has picked up on his journey. They are people who were in need of help and whom his brothers scorned to assist, but Noki, whose values outweigh his desire for success, aids them, only to find his new friends have abilities that will help him succeed. And succeed he does.
What I find most remarkable about these stories is their hopefulness, the sense that anything is attainable through belief in its possibility and by staying focused on the task at hand. Magic comes to the aid of those who believe and try. The stories provide positive reinforcement for children that they can succeed at anything if they only believe in themselves and use common sense.
In addition to the “Tales of Magic,” which take up two-thirds of the book’s 273 pages, there are “Droll Stories” and “Fables.” The Droll Stories are folktales about people getting their due, and filled with irony—my favorite being “The Pig-Headed Wife” about a woman who sees fit to contradict everything her husband says. The “Fables,” much like those of Aesop, are stories where usually one weaker but smarter animal outwits a stronger one.
This reprinted volume is laid out attractively and includes eight colored plates in the center, two of which form a full-page illustration. Each story begins with a black-and-white drawing, and additional illustrations often are in the story’s middle or at its end. Tales from a Finnish Tupa would be a wonderful way to introduce a child to his or her Finnish heritage, and readers of all ages and ethnicities will find humor, wisdom and wonder within its pages . . .
—Tyler Tichelaar
Editor’s Note: Tichelaar is the author of The Marquette Trilogy. All books reviewed in this column are available in local and online bookstores.
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