Editor’s note: Carol Spell is the fourth of a new crop of columnists writing for the Courier-Herald on a monthly basis for the next year in order to elevate new and diverse voices in our community. Her column series, “Education, Appreciation and Action” will be published the fourth week of every month.
I always said, “I was born in Minnesota and raised in the United States.” Due to the lack of work, my dad enlisted in the military and moving became part of our life. The early days before the military, in Minnesota, had some wonderful, fun memories. The worms were bigger than you would ever find here in Washington. Minnesota worms were called night crawlers. They were big and fat and the best for fishing. In the dark of night we filled our buckets with scores of those wiggly things found under rocks or boards so we could fish the next day for catfish.
These giant catfish were nothing like the ‘farmed’ variety in the stores. They were the real thing; six to eight pounds, caught in the cold water at the bottom of the lake. We were taught how to clean a fish. Never my favorite part of fishing, but that was the rule. You catch ‘em, you clean ‘em. We ate a lot of fish out of the lake in addition to the catfish, like bass and trout and my dad’s favorite: Walleyed pike. The harvest from the lake was a major source of our food. Our family was what some would say poor. I guess we were, but it never felt that way when I was young.
We lived with my grandma and grandpa, and while my mom and dad stayed in the house with them, the four of us kids slept in the ‘cabin’ with lots of quilts, no heat, and under the tin roof that amplified every sound when the squirrels ran across it and the pine cones fell like rain. Windy nights were always a little spooky. The bathroom, of course, was an outhouse. And, yes, we did use the Sears and Roebuck catalogs that were usually part of any history of life in the country. And there was not any fancy deodorizer back then.
Being right on the lake was fairly common back then. as Minnesota has an abundance of lakes. I remember going out in a row boat with my sister and we fished for sunfish and little bass, which you could see in the water as you looked over the edge of the boat, watching them swim around. We would spend hours on the water. My sister was 3 and I was 6. Can you imagine your folks letting you take the boat out fishing at that age? I guess they never worried much, because we could both swim. I don’t remember ever learning to swim, I just always swam.
Those were carefree days, swimming in the lake, running wild in the pastures and trees, and occasionally grabbing some of the chicken’s corn out of the bin for a snack. Some of the memories were unusual. I remember the long walk up the hill to catch the school bus on my very first day of school. Most of that time is a blur, but what really stood out for me was how soft my teachers arms were. See, my mom was pretty slim; I think back then they called her skinny. I had never been around anyone who was quite plump and this was really a fuzzy and laughable event for me. For some reason this memory has always been quite vivid.
As a young adult with my own family, we moved to Enumclaw because of the reputation it had for the best schools in the state. Both of my boys went all through school in Enumclaw, and to this day still live in close proximity. I was busy with all the activities that go along with active young men. I started a real estate business in Enumclaw. (Maybe you remember Country Realty back in the 80’s). We did pretty well as a new business in a small town.
In the early 90’s, I met a man named Bill who changed my world. It started with a concept of independent investigation. In other words, find out for yourself. What he said made a lot of sense and this led to a myriad of new studies and books and altered many of my ways of thinking. Things like guilt and purpose, compliancy and service, and looking at my own interpretations and understandings; of the need for education and wisdom; about development, prosperity and prejudice and personal motives and service.
Like many, my life probably reflects exposure to most of the negative cultural practices in our nation, that give us enough experience to have greater compassion for others. There were also some painful years as a caregiver and as a patient. I spent a limited time in college, and a lot of time in research. I have an extensive library, well over fifteen hundred books, courses and articles.
My last 30 years have been in community and non-profit activities. I served for 6 years as a facilitator for an organization that focused on social and economic development, working with communities and individuals, training and educating on the importance and application of this arena in their particular situations. I currently still give service as a facilitator, a tutor, and trainer, delivering classes on an ongoing schedule, on multiple topics. To name just a few, studies on education, equality, racism, religion and social action.
I am an optimistic and happy person who has discovered another reason to believe in hope for the future. Change is coming, slowly, steadily and unstoppable. My personal exploration and involvement in this new discovery, this vast, life changing and irresistible design for living that shakes the very foundations of a disordered life, is just beginning.
My desire to write started with the virus. I watched a lot of news and read a lot of articles, always looking for some good news or progress, but instead, everywhere there was anger and blame, and not a lot of hope. We can’t thrive without hope and it was hard to watch what was happening.
I have been so fortunate to be a person who always believes in the good in people. I do a lot of reading, and I am always looking for answers, and assurance — it’s exciting when I find so many ideas and solutions, and I want to share them. My hope is that what I write will bring some smiles, and maybe even one person might find an answer or an avenue that might be just what they need to hear.
