Wednesday, May 28, 2014

"Make the world a better place, because you are in it."

I should be writing about Maya Angelou today. Most people are writing about, talking about and remembering this incredible woman. I feel her loss to the world deeply as well. But I'm not going to write about Maya Angelou. I'm going to write about Louise Henderson instead, a woman who passed away on Saturday, who has had a profound impact on my life and so many others throughout her 80 years.

I've been struggling for the past couple of days, wondering how I could write about or even if I could write about Louise.  Louise wasn't famous. She was the co-director of Camp Arcadia, a summer camp I attended for years and cannot even fully articulate how important this place remains in my life to this day.

I learned of her death and immediately felt like whatever I would write might seem inadequate. The thing is that she was a larger than life type of person. Yet for some reason, the death of someone as inspiring to me as Maya Angelou unlocked something in me today, and I feel compelled to write.

Maya Angelou and Louise Henderson were born only 6 years apart. Yes, they were born into completely different circumstances and lead completely different lives, yet they did share some similarities. They were both incredibly brave and courageous women who stood up for what they believed in, they both wanted to make a difference in the world, and they both inspired so many people.

I've known Louise since I was ten years old. I was incredibly shy and pretty scared to be at a sleepover camp in Maine for seven weeks without my parents. Within the first few days, Louise singled me out and called me over, demanding to know how I was doing. I was a bit intimidated at first. Yet Louise soon pulled me down on her lap with her cackling laugh, and I felt reassured and at home.

Over the years, camp became my home away from home and Louise in turn became a sort of summer aunt. I always felt as if she was watching over me with pride (as well as making sure, in her omniscient way, that none of us got out of line). Whenever I would receive levels at campfires, I always felt a special twinkle in her eye. I'm sure most of the girls at that camp felt the same way, which is such a testament to the way Louise showed she cared for everyone.

During the winter months, Louise was a college counselor. When my age group reached the summer before we would start applying to colleges, she called us in and talked us through what to expect. I will always remember her telling us that camp had given us so many vital skills that would help us in the world. She told us that she knew we would excel in whatever direction we were headed.

At the end of every summer, Louise would give a packing speech to the entire camp. She would give us very specific instructions, cautioning us about putting wet clothes in our trunk without putting them in a plastic bag first. She always told this story of this one girl (we were never sure whether this girl was real or made up) who put their wet bathing suit in with their clothes. That girl's trunk was lost, and when she got it back months later, all of the clothes were mildewed. Whether that story was real or made up, I always make sure to bag any wet clothes before packing!

Perhaps the greatest gift Louise gave was the call to action. Every Sunday at the Sunday meeting, she would read a story to the camp about someone who had made a difference in the world. The story I always loved the most was Miss Rumphius by Barbara Cooney. When I was younger, I thought the story was called The Lupine Lady and that Louise had made it up. I remember being so excited when I actually found the book in a bookstore. I will never forget the way Louise read that story and paused at the end, adding her own advice, "Make the world a better place, because you are in it." I hear her voice saying those words constantly.

She has guided me throughout every phase of my life, from childhood to adolescence to adulthood. Just last summer, I was in Maine with my family and I stopped over at Arcadia for a day to say hello. I told Louise I was changing career paths, and she said to me, "Julie, that sounds like such an exciting opportunity." She told me to say hello to my parents, that I always had a home at Camp Arcadia, and that she was so happy I stopped by.

I know that camp will never be the same without Louise there. Yet her spirit will forever be a part of this magical place that I and countless other girls call home, a place that encourages us to be our very best and do whatever we can to make our mark on the world.

Monday, May 19, 2014

No Other Angle The Same: Halloweaster

Philadelphia, PA
Saturday, May 17th
1:00 pm


You gotta love South Philly, a magical land where decorations reign supreme at all times of year. In May, this house apparently celebrates Halloweaster....

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Dymond in the Rough

I had the rare opportunity to work with a high schooler this week on a speech for our internship spring awards ceremony. I've worked with hundreds of 8th graders to help them write graduation speeches, so I figured I knew what to expect.

She strolled in, sat down and proudly said, "I'm not a speech writer."

I replied, "Oh, that's okay. We're going to write this speech together." (Everyone had told me that this student would be the perfect choice for the speech. I figured there had to be a good reason for recommending her.)

"The thing is," she continued. "I don't just plan what I'm going to say. I'm spontaneous, you know? I'm a poet. I don't write with structure."

"Well, speech writing is a bit like poetry." (Now I was really going out on a limb.) "You know, there's a lot of pauses, there's a lot of figurative language..."

"I don't plan ahead and I don't work with people." I was a bit stumped. She wasn't being defiant. She just didn't like the idea of writing a speech.

"Okay," I finally said. "Let's write a poem together." She looked at me for a long moment.

"I thought of a title," she said. "Dymond in the rough." (Her name is Dymond).

"Great start!" I said. We then proceeded to write an amazing speech together. Only she thought it was a poem.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Monks!

I basically stalked monks all across Southeast Asia a few summers ago. To me, they were fascinating. Maybe it's because they seemed to hold the answers to inner peace. Perhaps it's because they were stoic and mysterious. Probably more likely because orange just sticks out in a crowd.


Tuesday, May 13, 2014

No Other ____ The Same: Welcome!

There's a little shop near the University of Pennsylvania that's different from the rest. For one thing, you don't see many students in there. Actually, there's usually only two people in there - the customer and the owner. The store sells fancy chocolates, old magazines, coffee, and some breakfast treats depending on the day. There's no soy or almond milk option. Cash is the only tender accepted, naturally. The owner is a loveable curmudgeon who usually stands in the doorway, staring at the passersby. A couple months ago, I went in frequently to buy chocolate. Now, most days I feel a bit guilty as he gives me a genial nod and lets me know, silently, that he is noticing that I haven't stopped in to make a purchase.


Today was a bit different. I for once had the cash to buy my overpriced chai tea latte (and let's be honest - a chocolate croissant), and the owner was nowhere to be seen. I gingerly stepped into the shop, and tentatively called out, "Hello? Good morning?"

A few minutes later, he leisurely came out of the back, acting as if I had interrupted his morning siesta. As he prepared my drink, another customer entered the store.

"Welcome!" the customer said, making a little bow with a flourish. The owner looked a bit displeased.

"Hello," he said drily.

"Don't you get it?" the customer said. "That 'welcome' is from Star Trek!" The owner gave him a blank stare.

"You don't watch Stark Trek?" the customer said. "I thought that would be your thing!"

"I guess I'm not a Star Trek kind of person," the owner said, a bit exasperated. I thanked him, paid for my coffee hastily, and left.

 

Monday, May 12, 2014

No Other Angle The Same: Dirt and Happiness

Washington, DC
Sunday, May 11th
1:00 pm

When I was younger, I had no shortage of playing in the dirt. In fact, my best friend and I even started sculpting what we called Muclay (a substance somewhere in between mud and clay). Nowadays, I don't get the chance too often.


Some articles say that dirt and happiness can be related. Yesterday, planting my parents' vegetable garden, I had to agree.


Sunday, May 11, 2014

Getting back on the horse

The thing about taking a break from anything is that the longer you do it, the easier it becomes. Those times when I've been a gym-goer (you notice I say "those times"), I haven't wanted to miss one day until....well....I miss that one day. Then the next day becomes easier, and the next day I barely think about it and then I start wonder when the last time was that I actually went to the gym. Hmm, when's the last time I went to the gym?


So, while a bit over a month ago the idea of not blogging every day seemed inconceivable...


...the longer I went without blogging, the more reasons I came up with not to do it. 


Sure, I was busy. Since I last saw all of you, I was pretty sick (this cartoon epitomizes exactly what I looked like, hair and all)....

Things have been a bit crazy at work...


I moved out of my home for the past 7 years (that's not even all of the boxes)....


...and moved in with this guy :)...


Yet the real reason I kept putting off blogging was because the longer I went without doing it, the more I psyched myself out. I kept saying to myself that I wouldn't blog until I had a week of posts lined up, or that I clearly shouldn't blog if I hadn't had time to cook that week, or that I definitely couldn't blog until I clearly understand the current front page of the NY Times. 

And you know what? At that rate, I was probably never going be fully prepared to blog again - at least not from my impossible standards. But the simple truth is that I love it. I love writing something every day - or at least 5 times a week - even if it's not always Shakespeare. I love connecting with my friends and family near and far and (hopefully) some readers who only know me from this blog. 

I may however have pigeonholed myself in a bit with my stringent weekly topics which of course involved me reading one book a week, being prepared to blog about a recipe weekly and writing an entire op ed each week. As my amazing mother (Happy Mother' Day, Mom!) said in her ever tactful way when I presented my idea, "That's very ambitious!"

So, I can't tell you exactly what to expect from me moving on, but you can catch me here, Monday through Friday, every week folks, saying something. Hopefully it'll be something you can relate to, or laugh at, ponder or debate. 

And, in keeping with my photo of the week post, I have a few pretty amazing ones to catch you up on. A cat being walked on a leash...


A dog sitting in a bike basket (it's hard to see, but the dog is really dressed up)...


....and of course a man with the longest beard I have ever seen. I wish I had gotten up the nerve to take this picture from the front. See how his beard goes over his shoulders??!


With that, I'm back on the proverbial blogging horse. Yeah, it's not a perfect metaphor...yet if I analyzed every metaphor to find the perfect one I might not see you all for another two months, so I'm going for it!