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Cynthia Kraack

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Tag Archives: Family

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What About the Kids?

Cynthia Kraack Posted on July 24, 2020 by Cynthia KraackJuly 24, 2020

In normal years, the nonprofit Twin Cities Theater Camp (TCTC) offers professional quality theater training for seven dozen or more kids. Over five weeks, these six through fourteen-year-olds develop creatively in an environment where it is okay to spontaneously break into song, dramatically slide across the floor, talk endlessly about the energy of being on stage, eat lunch, play outside then go back to work. In five weeks they will evolve from kids at camp into a theater company. Friendships grow strong as they learn acting, singing, dancing skills, and expressing themselves through art.

Ninety kids were registered in less than thirty minutes for TCTC 2020, many returning for their fourth, fifth, sixth year. Then COVID-19 claimed center stage. Like many nonprofit boards, TCTC directors were faced with cancelling summer plans. Fortunately they had a management team of teachers and artists already working virtually with kids, who had ideas for building a different kind of program.

Four hours a day for three weeks, five teachers and 46 kids worked together virtually. Many parents called those hours the best their kids had experienced since March 17.  In fifteen days, an eighty minute video YouTube presentation was written, produced and performed by kids and teachers for viewing by an invitation only audience. Technical wizardry made the show possible.

It’s always entertaining to watch TCTC’s productions. But unlike great finales, what stopped adult audiences this year was listening to nondramatic sections–kids talking about COVID lock down, about things they fear, and things that make them happy.

Their fears ran from scary movies and snakes to becoming sick, to losing others, to developing an illness that can’t be cured. Under their words, there is sadness about the abrupt changes with no known end. Immediate family and friends are what they value. They have sad times, days they aren’t sure they can keep going, they miss the hugs of friends and distant family, and they have sparks of happiness that keep them hopeful. Older kids also worry about societal equality struggles. While still optimistic, reality has diminished that sweet childish belief that destiny is in their hands. Until the future is more clearly understood, they get by with help from friends, parents, family and other adults who care.

A big thanks for all who are caring for kids. Virtual hugs for you.

Posted in Change, Events, Family, Pandemic | Tagged Family, Fear of being ill, Friends, Kids' words, Pandemic, TCTC | Leave a reply

After the Battle

Cynthia Kraack Posted on April 17, 2020 by Cynthia KraackApril 17, 2020

Surviving war does not equate to a free ticket home.

COVID-19 is like a world war with every country fighting unique battles to beat a largely invisible enemy. When a vaccine is ready, how will wearied populations move forward? How will first responders and all on the front lines find their equilibrium? Where will we mourn our dead?

A good number of the 40 Thieves on Saipan WWII platoon survivors re-enlisted for the Korean conflict. They had seen too much, experienced too much, to return to the family dinner table. For the rest of their lives, many fought the bloody Pacific Theater battles of their youth. Between 1.4 and 1.5 million World War II vets fought in Korea. My father was one of those.

Some WWI and WWII vets disappeared after finding home side re-integration in the United States too difficult. My father-in-law was one of those. Without credit cards and mobile phones, pulling up roots in the 1950s was far easier. The  women they left behind were granted the dignity of being known ‘war widows’ even if somewhere their legal spouse was alive.

Mental health issues have dogged veterans as long as men have waged war. Some WWII and Vietnam vets who had suffered as prisoners of war returned home able to rehabilitate. Others did the best they could. I worked with a well-functioning man who chose to remove his shoes and eat his lunch under his desk. He had spent months in a Russian prisoner camp and carried this vulnerability to the work world.

Hit with the double whammy of COVID-19 and economic tsunami, not all of us will have the tenacity to start over. Suicide rates in the United States have risen dramatically since the start of the millennium, particularly among white middle age men. Vietnam and Afghanistan vets are dying at their own hand daily.

The world will not be a friendlier place in 2021, so where will we find ourselves? In a New York Times op ed David Brooks writes about the US tide of “safetyism” that buffers children and young people from disappointment, from accidents of any size, from developing tenacity. He says that tenacity is not a feature of good character, but what people are trained to do. One of our first challenges will be to find tenacious leaders in families, communities, schools, corporations and government and ask them to help everyone to build the skill set. And to build supports for those who are struck with hesitancy or fear on the journey to our new world.

Surviving this virus war will be a different kind of battle. Stay home. Stay safe.

 

Posted in Blog, Events, Family, Gun violence, War and Peace | Tagged American culture, Armed services, COVID-19, Family, Pandemic, Survival, The Human Condition | Leave a reply

This is Our War

Cynthia Kraack Posted on August 13, 2019 by Cynthia KraackAugust 13, 2019

Forty thousand people die from guns every year in the United States. Hundreds of thousands are injured. Sit back and consider those numbers then multiply each by ten to acknowledge family and friends traumatized by the violence.  Forty thousand domestic casualties in twelve months is more than all the Armed Forces casualties since President George Bush’s Desert Storm operation. While the loss of any US service person is tragic,  people back home don’t expect to make the ultimate sacrifice when shopping for their kids’ back to school supplies or worshiping on a Sunday morning or hiking in a national forest.

If the increasing numbers of mass shootings, domestic killings, urban murders, accidental tragedies, or individuals using a gun to end their lives were happening elsewhere, we might suggest these were signs of war. There might a call to send troops and support civilians dying in the cross fire.

Instead we work and raise our children and care for those more vulnerable in communities we can only hope are safe that day. Our elected leaders accept money from the ever powerful lobbyists of the gun world. Because too many politicians like the money and power, there is denial that a domestic war exists.

You and I can never raise the money these politicians–both men and women–require to change their minds or rhetoric about assault rifles. My brother and uncles never needed military grade firearms to hunt grouse or deer. There are an estimated fifteen million military-style rifles in civilian hands. Mass shootings are difficult to accept as part of the price of protecting some individuals’ personal freedom to own what they want.

There is another statistic that is difficult to accept–about sixty percent of gun-related deaths are suicides. Stop and consider the heaviness of that fact. Significant experts tie the flood of illegal drugs including opioids with the astounding number of guns in our country to violence and rising suicide numbers.

Some say it is too late to work our way out of this gun tsunami. Giving up on a safer future for our children and grandchildren because of facing difficult decisions and an angry minority today doesn’t feel American. It feels reasonable if a person wants a traditional rifle or handgun and can prove they have received valid training in safe handling of that weapon. That was how the US once lived. A country where people can own multiple weapons capable of mass shootings and stockpiled ammunition sounds like a nation where the body count will continue to rise. A country engaged in a passive aggressive sort of domestic war.

Posted in Gun violence | Tagged American culture, Armed services, Family, Guns, Politics, US Future | Leave a reply

Complex Joy

Cynthia Kraack Posted on September 16, 2016 by Cynthia KraackSeptember 16, 2016

One year ago we gathered at the wedding of my husband’s nephew. My mother-in-law danced with her two granddaughters and a great-granddaughter under a white tent on a very warm September night. Ninety plus years old, she wore a pastel outfit purchased for this occasion including matching shoes.

The young women moved around her gently, swaying on tall heels, holding hands, smiling at the joy of being together for the first time in decades and sharing this experience. The little, white-haired, woman with large glasses was no longer the strong single mother who shepherded three children through college on a teacher’s salary. Her health was failing, her feet not always steady, her heart working as hard as it could.

Adult children and their spouses watched from the side, each of us quiet with our own thoughts. The youngest grandson would be marrying in twelve months and she wanted to there, to dance at his wedding and welcome his bride to the family. There were so many reasons to think that was not going to happen in spite of incredible drive in that tiny woman’s body. She passed away weeks later.

The circle turns and we are here on another September evening, for another gathering of generationsimg_0045 around another loving young couple. There is so much joy during the ceremony that it is natural to expect the grandparents, who gave their blessings to these two years earlier, to be in the room. The future promises only its best on this night and the past reminds us of what was good. There is joy.

 

Posted in Blog | Tagged Door County, Family, The Human Condition | Leave a reply

My Grandfather’s Face

Cynthia Kraack Posted on September 4, 2016 by Cynthia KraackSeptember 4, 2016

Urban shoppers might walk away from farmers’ markets in the rural area where I grew up. There’s IMG_3626nothing exotic among the produce displayed. Tomatoes look like those ripening on a backyard vine. A dozen green peppers, as many red, and a handful of orange are the choices today. Big onions with dirt still clinging to the skins wait next to baby red potatoes. For fruit lovers there is a bin of large red pears, apricots, baskets of plums. The first of the new apple crop waits in plastic bags on large flat tables. They are costly, but will be in pies all over the county this weekend.

My grandfather worked a half-acre garden, berry patch and fruit trees, to feed his five children and wife. Potatoes, carrots and onions filled the winter fruit cellar. Tomatoes, peas, beans, corn, cabbage, cucumbers and fruit were canned. Into his nineties he spent time in his garden daily during the growing season. Family or friends could stop for a visit and leave with cabbage and a sack of potatoes.

Feeding his family was tough. While holding a job working the on the railroad during the Depression, my grandfather liked to end his day at a local tavern. He had a reputation for losing his way home in a very small town.

My step-grandmother raised chickens and baked bread. He hunted and they canned venison stew, rabbit stew, wild turkey with gravy. Hams he earned by working weekends on his brother’s farm dried in the attic with other meat stored in the town’s cold locker. His family ate decently because of what they could put away during the good times. And there were plenty of bad times when dinner was bread fried in bacon grease. My father found it hard to forget or forgive those years.

IMG_3627Buying sweet corn in my car at a farmer’s stand, I saw a handsome old man getting down from a tractor. He wore faded jeans, a long-sleeve shirt tucked into a belt circling a slim waist. Turning, he smiled at me and touched his forehead, a gesture I remember in the good memories of my childhood. He winked as he walked past. Blue eyes in a tanned face topped by thick white hair. Not quite fifty miles from my grandfather’s original home, this man could possibly be a relative.

Twenty years ago a priest delivered my grandfather’s eulogy. He spoke of the kindly old man who loved to be surrounded by children, about the cardboard boxes of produce left at people’s door when they most needed help, about a person I hardly knew. My father moved us away from our hometown when his father’s reputation followed us into grade school. My grandfather was still working, still drinking.

I didn’t get to know the man the priest described. The man who remarried a kindly woman and changed the way he approached the world. Through the last three decades of his life, my grandfather became a man who would be missed. Knowing of his evolution made a deep impression in me, one that often drifts into my writing.

Another revelation on a quiet September day.

Posted in Blog | Tagged American culture, Door County, Family, Seasons, The Human Condition, writing work | Leave a reply

Sunday Mornings

Cynthia Kraack Posted on August 7, 2016 by Cynthia KraackAugust 7, 2016

IMG_3514Sunday mornings have their own vibe, a crazy mash-up of past traditions, leisure, family time, friends time, me time, maybe spiritual time. It is a day important enough to spawn memories of Sunday clothes, Sunday funnies, Sunday dinner, a Sunday drive.

The Catholic Church broke my parents’ routine dressing up and attending Sunday Mass as a family with the introduction of Saturday evening service. No more riding together in a car smelling of aftershave and hairspray, listening to the adults talk about important stuff then the reward after church of stopping for donuts. We scattered attendance, began to lie about attendance, ceased attendance. Started going when our kids were of the age, pushed until confirmation, lost faith in the Church, gave up the struggle. Pray at any time in any place sometimes with, sometimes without an intermediary or community.

Writing fills the quiet time where church going existed. In this time, other issues and questions are left IMG_2537outside the office door. I wrestle with characters, locations, plot, what to share and what to keep private. The years of priests preaching, nuns praying and parents dressing us up and attending Sunday Mass are layered in the writing like bedrock under ground, top soil and leaves of grass.

Sunday dinner, Sunday visitors, Sunday baseball or football games come later. After my workweek is launched.

 

Posted in Blog | Tagged #MyWritingProcess, American culture, Family, Spirituality | Leave a reply

Paddle Turn

Cynthia Kraack Posted on May 21, 2016 by Cynthia KraackMay 21, 2016

For many years our family had just about enough time to notice that flowers were in bloom, but never enough time to enjoy the show. Two kids in school, two kids in activities, two big time careers, three grandparents needing various amounts of attention, Mother’s Day, spring planting jettisoned us toward Memorial Day.

Dance recital grabbed an early May week. From the innocent beauty of a simple white leotard with pink tights to the teen years of glitter, heeled tap shoes and too much homework, my daughter and I shared the nerves and triumphs of her days dancing on stage.

For a few years, her brother attended rehearsals and the recital, first in an infant carrier before graduating to sitting in the auditorium with bribes of snacks and new toys. But the experience was truly about being a part of her world. I assembled costume accessories, curled and pinned hair, stroked on make-up, tied shoes and provided whatever level of encouragement was required. A dance mom. Her mom. It was an awesome whirl, but when the curtain fell on the final performance each year we were ready to move forward.

Paddle turn, paddle turn, ball, change.

Our daughter has a daughter maybe six months from early dance classes if that appeals to them. Our granddaughter is a bolt of sunshine bringing energy and enthusiasm to every moment. She loves her friends, almost any outdoor activity, her bike, music, art projects, books, beads and pigtails. In a video she stretched out her toddler arms, stamped a foot on the floor, twirled and danced with Disney’s Elsa. I could almost hear the rhythm of tap shoes under a recital version of “Let It Go”.

She has the rhythm, the love of movement, and there will be many ways she might enjoy those in her future. And opportunities to bond with her mom. That’s the circle of life. Paddle turn.

 

 

 

Posted in Blog | Tagged American culture, Family, Grandparenting, Tap dancing | Leave a reply

Tapping Out the Grief

Cynthia Kraack Posted on April 23, 2016 by Cynthia KraackApril 23, 2016

For ninety minutes a week, the world I experience is a musical place with classic jazz or Broadway tunes accented by the sounds of fourteen tap shoes slapping and flapping and stomping across a studio floor. This is Andria’s Dancin’ on the Door School of Dance.

I am usually in the back row, trying to make up for the weeks I am not here. My face might look intense as muscles struggle to remember the drop heel move or shuffle through a few steps to get back in the beat. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, step. One, two, three, step. One, two, three, step. Spine relaxed, fingers wanting to snap, this is a safe haven in the universe. Music, movement, companionship without pressure.

That’s where I was when the news was released that Prince died on Thursday. Rushing from tap class to a board meeting, car windows down in fifty-degree weather, I focused on cooling off during the short drive. The car radio was off as Route 66, the last routine we rehearsed, flowed through my mind. No one mentioned his death during greetings as Board members settled into chairs.

This is the way of life. My very good morning is someone’s morning from hell, or last one on earth. We share joy and grief because we are human, not because we are friends or relatives or neighbors. With Prince’s passing, millions feel the loss of his artistry and energy although most have never met him.

April has not always been my easiest month. My only sibling, also in his late fifties, died one April Saturday morning taking his dog for a walk. Which is part of the reason I am at Andria’s Dancin’ on The Door School of Dance. For ninety minutes a week, I can push back against most of what troubles me when she turns on the music and the magic begins.

Prince and I are close in age and height. I am not willowy, mysterious or gifted. Yet what he created flows through my soul and stitches me with the most fragile of threads to those who celebrate his life in dance parties, clubs, movie theaters or their own homes. I will be here, celebrating life while tapping out the grief.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Blog | Tagged American culture, Andrias Dancin on the Door, Door County, Family, Prince, The Human Condition | 1 Reply

Peace on Earth

Cynthia Kraack Posted on December 24, 2015 by Cynthia KraackDecember 24, 2015

Our family has a holiday sock gifting tradition that has provided me with more than a week’s worth of red, green or black footwear decorated with bears, wreaths, candy canes and sparkle. Usually in the Midwest I can wear boots and jeans enough to camouflage my collection beyond the respectable boundaries of holiday celebration.

Tonight I wear the one pair I keep for Christmas Eve. Tiny angels blowing on delicate horns float on a black background. I call them my Angels We Have Heard on High socks. For twenty-four hours these socks bind me to my faith heritage, to remembering the message of hope Christians embrace in the story of the Christ child sent to earth to save Paris museumGod’s people.

Perhaps I’ll wear them longer this year. Maybe if enough leaders had socks to remind them of why people gifted them with the responsibility of power, we could find our way to some easier level of peace on earth.

To you and yours I send one simple message: If it is not possible to have peace on earth, may we at least live at ease with each other. Pax.

Posted in Blog | Tagged Christmas, Family, Friends, The Human Condition, The World | Leave a reply

That Time of Year

Cynthia Kraack Posted on December 13, 2015 by Cynthia KraackMarch 16, 2016

That time of year—from Thanksgiving through New Year’s. Happiness. Sadness. Hugging those who walk in the door. Remembering who sat in these chairs in years gone by. Familiar songs about happy holidays running from everyone’s playlists.

A friend posted an appeal to help a vet’s family pay for his funeral. In a final family picture he has a smiling little boy in each arm and lovely wife leaning over one shoulder. And his eyes are so empty, another soul carrying the weight of PTSD. Back from another deployment, people caring for him and keeping watch, yet he ended his life. On Thanksgiving morning. Dozens of family members and friends and fellow Marines received the sad news before sitting down to the holiday meal.

There are no traditions for merging the happiest time of the year with the emotional pain of loss, whether sudden or lingering. Don’t think poorly of those whose lives were sadly changed during this time of year. Give them a hug if that would be accepted. Invite them toCavePointWinter have a chair and a cup of comfort, yet respect their decision to spend time alone.

Tone down the playlist and let the music of your voice be all they need to hear. Talk about the weather, your favorite sports team, how the dog dragged in something disgusting. Listen with your heart. Let that be your gift.

Posted in Blog | Tagged American culture, Armed services, Family, Friends, PTSD, The Human Condition | Leave a reply

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