Looking for something fun to make for Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, May Day, or any old day? Try making these pop-up paper flower cards! They are really cute and surprisingly easy to put together! Happy Spring, friends!
Here’s what you’ll need:
Fun Paper – could be colored or patterned or plain. I used construction paper
The Spring 2020 Inspire(d) is all about doing life in a way that works for you. Inside, you’ll find:
Take the Leap: Do life your way! Lauren Barry + Michael Anderson • Gap Years • Annie Titus • Zach Burke • Elliott Jewelers • Walking Space • Songs of Spring – Driftless Birds • Pop-Up Paper Flower Cards • And More!
What do you want to be when you grow up? Some form of this question revisits us on a semi-regular basis here at Inspire(d) HQ (also, who even WANTS to grow up?!?).
When I was a kid, living in the country near Frankville, Iowa, I thought maybe I’d be a teacher, or a nurse like my mom. My dad was a pilot, so there was a time in middle school that I considered becoming a major airline pilot.
In college, I knew I loved to read and write, but wasn’t sure how that would translate to a “real job” post graduation.
So, back to teacher – I was even accepted to the College of Education at University of Iowa. There was a brief foray into selling Mary Kay cosmetics and dreaming of pink Cadillacs (very brief), and then I spent a short time in the Air Force ROTC program, coming back to that pilot idea. It wasn’t until my junior year that I came to journalism.
But even with a journalism degree, entering the world seemed impossible. I considered graduate programs, but my advisor said, “Unless you’re planning to teach, there’s not much point in going further in debt to learn what you can learn in the real world.” Whew, am I ever grateful for that advice.
So, after claiming my degree in English and journalism in 2003, I took a bit of a “gap year.” I still worked – I taught oral English to middle-schoolers in China from 2004-2005 – but it wasn’t exactly a career.
The things I learned on that gap, though, have led me through this life. They changed me, and expanded my opinions of the world, just as the Gap Years did for the Decorah area folks featured in Kristine Jepsen’s story on page 24.
Back in the states, I figured I better get a real job… finally. But no one wanted to hire me, much to my surprise (ha!). I did have a back-up plan: This magazine in your hands. Really, it was the plan A, but it seemed too crazy to just make it up!
In Maggie Sonnek’s story, Lauren Barry of Dancing Gnome Farm and Michael Anderson of Broken Paddle Guiding Company find that “just making it up” is the best way to a life filled with passion. I would have to agree.
All of this is to say: There are a lot of ways to do life. To grow up (or not) as you grow older. Sometimes you just have to Take the Leap! Throughout this issue, you’ll read stories of people who have done just that. Annie Titus decided to head to undergrad at UW Eau Claire in her late 50s (pg 47). Zach Burke knew in high school that he wanted to pursue the John Deere TECH program at Northeast Iowa Community College (pg 56). This issue’s Sum of Your Business interview features three generations working side-by-side at Elliott Jewelers in Waukon.
Everyone’s path is different. For Andrew Boddicker, it was a literal path – a pilgrimage in Spain inspired his new business, Walking Space, featuring carefully curated, long-distance walks in the Driftless Region. Written by Inspire(d) newcomer Erin Dorbin, this story highlights the great benefits of a simple walk (pg 60).
Speaking of new writers, we’ve got two others to introduce! Mary Hyland shares her love of geocaching in the region with our readers, and Craig Thompson helps us train our ears for the sounds of spring – birds! You can’t miss the accompanying illustrations by Decorah artist Lauren Bonney – the amazing oriole on the cover is just one of five that go along with the story. It gets me excited about spring and warm weather and flowers (make paper ones for a card in this issue’s paper project) and all the lovely spring things! It’s my favorite season! We hope you enjoy it as well!
We’ve all asked this of a high schooler at some point. What we (often) mean is: “Where are you going to college?”
But what happens if your heart doesn’t thrill to the thought of lecture halls, dorm rooms, and unlimited soft-serve ice cream? Or if you’re not ready to invest in the cost? Or the move away from home? What happens when you have the feeling you haven’t seen – or done – enough in the world to recognize your truest career calling?
Enter the “gap year,” a year (or more…or less!) of independent living, travel, service work, or nontraditional schooling that can help folks get their bearings on the future and, ultimately, personal fulfillment. A number of people in Decorah have gone this route, and the movement has been growing internationally, with programming options as diverse as learning Native American herbalism in the Pacific Northwest to rock climbing in the Andes (see sidebar).
But “gappers” better be ready to explain it when people ask. Over and over. And over, again.
“The reflex response when you tell someone you’re taking a gap year after high school is, ‘Ohhhhhhhhh,’” says Decorah native and Decorah High graduate Maggie Schwarz. As she says this, she demonstrates a sideways, distancing look of bewilderment that accompanies the phrase “gap year,” followed by some awkward silence.
“Then imagine,” she continues, “when someone tries to recover the conversation by asking, ‘Oh! Where are you going?!’ and I say, ‘I’m not going anywhere. This place – the Driftless – and its natural history are super important to me. I’m staying here.’”
*Crickets
“Gap years” aren’t really that unheard of, according to the Center for Interim Programs of Princeton, New Jersey, which has been advising gappers since 1980. The issue is that popular culture generally assumes “success” requires an academic degree.
When 2017 Decorah High grad Indigo Fish went head-to-head with her mother, Tanya O’Connor, about not enrolling in college, the perceived implications snowballed. “All I could think was, ‘No way. College is going to suck. It’s going to be just like high school, and I’m not going to learn anything,” says Indigo, who has both attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) and obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and floundered in traditional classrooms if the instruction wasn’t hands-on.
Indigo Fish, pictured above, had a variety of experiences during her Gap Year. She got a job at Dragonfly Books in Decorah and participated in their Pride Parade float; traveled to Denmark with her best friend and rode skateboards everywhere; read a lot of books; and went canoeing and found magical things like a baby turtle. Photos courtesy Indigo Fish.
“I was fear-driven for different reasons,” Tanya explains, “afraid that if she didn’t take advantage of college enrollment and the scholarships available to first-year traditional students, she might miss out and college would become unaffordable. I was afraid that she would not have the opportunity to experience educators who would make her a fine critical thinker.”
The turning point, Tanya says, came in the fall of Indigo’s senior year, when her grades plummeted and her sunny demeanor vanished. “I finally realized she was internalizing all the expectations, all of the teachers, every adult asking, ‘Where are you going to college?’
“She just shut down, and that’s when I really started to listen, and listen to her, instead of my idea of her.”
Indi, as she’s known to friends and family, agreed to a “gap” year as a compromise. “I was ready to become a street performer,” combining her interests in acting, dance, and theater production, she explains with a laugh. “I just needed to deal with college and all that later.”
In her gap year, she got a full-time job at Dragonfly Books. She enrolled in ballet lessons, participated in community theater, and sought assistance from a life coach and vocational rehabilitation. She audited a theater class at Luther College, and traveled to Denmark with her best friend, Anna.
Most important, she says, she started cooking for herself (sometimes) and assumed responsibility for other hallmarks of independence, like laundry. When she enrolled as a theater major at Luther College in 2018, these accountability skills gave her confidence. “Time management is huge in college, and I’m horrendous at it,” she says with a laugh. “Taking a gap year helped me get used to making my own schedule.”
For Thomas Hendrickson, a 2019 Decorah High School graduate, it was his parents, Julie Strom and Karl Hendrickson, who suggested a gap year. “I was ready to go straight into college, but senior year of high school was really rough. I was passing some classes and failing others,” he says.
Top: Thomas Hendrickson took a Gap Year at the suggestion of his parents, and found he would earn how he wanted to learn. Photo by Kristine Jepsen Bottom: Thomas Hendrickson and his family at his Decorah High School graduation. Photo courtesy Thomas Hendrickson
“Kids think they have to keep up with their peers and go the same speed. I thought a gap year meant that I was losing my edge, or it was the beginning of the end, which is ridiculous,” he says, adding that he had always worked grades ahead in math.
“It got to the point where you were feeling you weren’t smart,” offers Julie, sitting next to Thomas. “That wasn’t ever the case. We just didn’t want to saddle you with college debt when your timing and preparation for it could be way better.”
Thomas, who also has ADHD and Asberger’s Syndrome, has been housesitting on his own in Decorah and learning to cook at home, when his family will let him. He was accepted to top colleges for engineering but decided instead to pursue a folk school in Norway in 2020-21.“Without a gap year, I may not have learned that I had to learn how to study – and pursue work that isn’t about getting the grade, as the end product. Folk schools like this one don’t have assignments or tests. You get out of it what you put into it.”
Thomas illustrates the influence of a “typical” schooling experience for some people, smoothing out the edges ‘til you get to a square. Illustrations by Thomas Hendrickson
Gap years aren’t just for high school graduates, either. “As a girl in the 80s, it was always clear to me that I had to pursue engineering or medicine if I wanted to be ‘successful,’” says Rachel Sandhorst of Decorah. “But when I was waitlisted for med school – and ultimately wasn’t accepted – I had no Plan B. It threw me into a tailspin. Sure, I had many friends who retook their MCATs and reapplied to get in, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. That rejection was really hard, but it was necessary to go through it.”
With time suddenly stretching before her, Rachel applied to AmeriCorps, a US-based service program only in its second year of existence at the time. “Even finding out about it was miracle,” Rachel says with a chuckle, “because ‘back then’ there was no Internet to research. I had to get on mailing lists – MAILING LISTS! – to learn about alternatives.”
Her first National Civilian Conservation Corps (NCCC) placement was in South Carolina, where her service work, time for reflection, and people she met (along with the rigors of reporting for physical training every morning, in uniform, at 6 am) turned her on to education. One gap year became three, while she applied to graduate school in Colorado. “Instead of helping kids with their physical growth, I learned I wanted to help them with their cognitive and emotional growth,” she says. “And I needed a gap year to understand that about myself.”
Andrea Miller, a native of Austria, now resident of Decorah, adds that gap years can be natural transitions between career interests. Trained as a preschool teacher in Austria, she’s now considering a gap year with both her elementary-age daughters. “I feel like I’ve been taking gap years over and over again, learning about myself and what I can offer. Then my 9-year-old came to me with the idea, and I thought, ‘Wait a minute…are you old enough? What’s the age limit on gap years?’” Ultimately, she concluded, there isn’t one.
There’s also no time limit. Taking a gap “six months,” Maggie Schwarz traveled the U.S., worked locally to pay her rent and bills, established a healthy sleep/wake schedule, and cooked for herself. She and her partner, Dalton Brown (also a Decorah grad), bought a VW van they named Cosmo, and began rehabilitating it for long-term travel.
Maggie and her partner are rehabbing a vintage VW for long-term travel. At right are pressed flower artworks by Maggie from 2019. Photos courtesy Maggie Schwarz.
Now enrolled as a studio art major at Luther, Maggie considers her self-care routines her greatest assets for success in college, and the friendships she formed in Decorah – mostly with other professionals a decade or more older – remain important. “It’s sometimes hard to be the one ‘different’ person – in your class, in your family – but it’s empowering, too,” Maggie says. “You encourage people to think differently.”
She and Dalton are mid-project with the van, swapping out its motor for a more reliable Subaru model. “We’re working on the wiring right now,” she reports. “My dad [Luther arts professor Lane Schwarz] has been super helpful,” – and inspiring, she says. “I grew up hearing stories of how he packed a van full of friends and drove to Alaska a few times in college.”
After earning a degree, Maggie wants to create an arts program offering high-caliber studio training and building intentional community, like South Bear School for pottery and other studio arts, founded in the 1970s by her grandparents, Dean and Gerry Schwarz. “But I’m not naive about how far a bachelor’s degree in art will get me,” she says. “That dream will require collaboration, but I think we need that kind of space more than ever.”
Most of all, she says, she’s grateful for the opportunity to take ownership of her own interests and learning. “Dreaming and debt don’t go well together,” she concludes. “‘Finding yourself’ is really, really hindered by debt,” she says, especially the college kind.
Her advice? Save up a little cushion – to pay the deposit for a gap-year travel program, say, or to pay your living expenses while you learn new work skills, explore apprenticeships, or find mentors. But then, be brave.
If you get the chance to gap? Maggie is quick with her reply: “Do it.”
Kristine Jepsen is a grant/writer, editor, and business coach for her local Small Business Development Center (SBDC). Her (unwitting) gap year after an undergrad degree in English and journalism included riding the Great Divide Mountain Bike Trail and training sled dogs for a backcountry outfitter in Flathead National Forest in Montana. She’s been bridging unexpected careers and opportunities ever since.
What do you want to be when you grow up? Some form of this question revisits us on a semi-regular basis here at Inspire(d) HQ (also, who even WANTS to grow up?!?).
“The reflex response when you tell someone you’re taking a gap year after high school is, ‘Ohhhhhhhhh,’” says Decorah native and Decorah High graduate Maggie Schwarz. As she says this, she demonstrates a sideways, distancing look of bewilderment that accompanies the phrase “gap year,” followed by some awkward silence.
