Update: Maria Campbell's "Halfbreed"

In March of last year I posted a few words about Maria Campbell's autobiography Halfbreed, one of the many books that inspired me when I was writing Seeking the Center.

Just a couple of weeks ago I read that a researcher has found two pages of Campbell's manuscript that were omitted when it was published in 1973. The pages describe Campbell's rape by a Canadian Mountie when she was fourteen years old (which would have been nearly twenty years earlier). It seems that her publisher decided not to include the passage for fear that the R.C.M.P. (Royal Canadian Mounted Police, aka "Mounties") would try to halt its publication.

At the time Jack McClelland, her publisher, reasoned that, if the incident were included in her story, the Mounties would challenge it, and the onus would be on Campbell to prove it. McClelland knew that the word of an Indigenous woman would mean nothing against the word of an R.C.M.P. officer. Campbell herself had wanted the passage included regardless, and didn't know that the publisher had nixed it until she received the printed copy in the mail. 

Perhaps it is fitting that the pages, and the associated story, should come to light in the #MeToo era. For more information, you can read the CBC story here. Please note that it includes the missing pages that describe the rape.

More thoughts about Agnes: a cost-benefit analysis of womanhood

Some of my friends and acquaintances who've read Seeking the Center have remarked that they "liked Agnes at the end" of the story -- which is interesting to me, because, does that mean they didn't like her at the beginning?

It ties in with a feeling I've had all along about Agnes, and about the way the book ends. I feel sad that, in some ways, at least, she "settles." Sometimes I worry that, maybe, she's not the girl-hero that I initially envisioned, routed for, and loved.

I think I understand what those readers mean, though. Agnes does "grow up." She becomes (visibly) less angry, more "likeable." There are positives there, surely, but there's also a loss, because that anger was not only a driving force in her psyche -- it was righteous.

As a woman -- and this may apply as well to other people who exist outside of society's dominant culture -- your anger doesn't ever get resolved. It doesn't disappear, either. You only "choose" to deal with it in different ways, ways that allow you to "grow up" and "move forward," but that also cause you to bury parts of yourself and your experience.

So, do I "like Agnes at the end" better than I did at the beginning? I don't know. I do think she is more compassionate, more emotionally intelligent. There is an upside to this change, and part of the benefit, I hope, will accrue to her. But what is the cost, not only to her as an individual person with only one life to live, but multiplied out across society? What is the cost of millions of Agneses "growing up" and "moving forward," while leaving their anger unaddressed, unanswered, unresolved?

It makes me think of the famous Langston Hughes poem. What does happen to a dream deferred?

A game that "really" matters

Writing Seeking the Center was both fun and agonizing. Some of the plot lines seemed to resolve themselves without my intervention, while others were harder to manage. The central question was the most difficult to answer: How can Agnes, excluded from her ideal of "playing for points" in "real" games because of her sex, find a way to play hockey that satisfies her?

In solving this problem I had to work within the constraints of reality. A "Disney-esque" ending, as my editor put it, wouldn't be believable. Seeking was never meant to be one of those sports stories climaxing with the protagonist's victory against all odds in the "big game." Instead, the final game becomes a pitched battle between Agnes and her own fears.

Ultimately, Agnes does find a new way to play the game she loves. And although this new hockey exists outside of the "real" game to which she once aspired, it satisfies her need to play a game of consequence - a game that "really" matters.

Unwomanly sports

Photo from Hilary Knight's July 19 tweet announcing her Reddit AMA ("Ask Me Anything")

While idly perusing twitter a couple of days ago, I saw that professional hockey player (Boston Pride) and U.S. National Team star Hilary Knight had taken part in a Reddit AMA. Someone I follow on twitter reported that, during the session, she'd been asked why she chose hockey over figure skating.

Implicit in the question, of course, is the assumption that, rather than hockey, figure skating is the skating sport that girls and women would/should naturally pursue. You'd have to be a strange woman indeed to choose hockey over figure skating. Not only strange, but also, quite possibly, difficult, contrary, subversive - even unwomanly (!!!).

The question also brings to my mind some of that Title IX-derived "separate but equal" rubbish. (I hate to bash Title IX, which has obviously been important and beneficial, but it does have its downsides.) For example, during the fall season in high school we have football for the boys, so we need a sport for the girls. Let's say ... volleyball? That works -- the boys won't need the gym because they'll be out on the football field. Okay, volleyball it is. But here's the thing, and it's nothing against volleyball, but let's face it: playing volleyball is unlikely to satisfy a girl who really wants to play football. Likewise, playing football isn't going to satisfy the boy who really wants to play volleyball. And figure skating, my friends -- as amazingly beautiful and athletic as it is -- is unlikely to satisfy the person of any gender who really wants to play hockey.

I often get the same question that Knight got. I'll be at the rink, lacing up my hockey skates, and someone will ask, out of the clear blue sky, "why aren't you doing figure skating?" Often it's one of the very first things someone will say to me.

I always answer nicely, but honestly, people! It's 2017! Can't we move past this ridiculous stereotyping, which only serves to keep people trapped in little boxes and make them feel bad or embarrassed for who they are?

(And in case you're wondering, when they asked Hilary Knight why she chose hockey over figure skating she said, "my choice was between skiing and hockey.")

The real-life hockey heroes of the U.S. National Women's Team

It's an eventful time for women's hockey. Both of the North American professional women's leagues have had their championships, as has the NCAA. And in culmination, the Women's World Championships will begin at the end of this month in Plymouth, Michigan. But, although the event is hosted by USA Hockey, the U.S. National Women's Team may sit this one out. 

Why? 

Not because the team is inferior, that's for sure. According to ESPN, it's been the jewel of the U.S. Olympic program. Ranked number one in the world, the team has won seven world championships, including the last three, and have medalled at every Olympic games since the women's game was first included in 1998, when they won gold.

Rather, they are essentially striking for better pay and for the respect which is long overdue. They'd rather play than sit on the sidelines, of course, but as two-time Olympic silver-medalist, six-time World Champion gold medalist Hilary Knight says, "[the decision not to play] just came about because USA Hockey didn't take our group seriously...we train every single day to represent our country with already limited programming in terms of games. It's something that we look forward to. It's a huge deal. To have to sacrifice that means a lot."

Why do they feel they need to make this sacrifice? Because for fourteen months, the women of the U.S. National Team have tried to negotiate with USA Hockey's leadership for fair wages and a commitment to supporting girls' and women's programs in the sport, but have nothing to show for it.

Being on the Women's National Team is a financial hardship. Members of the senior women's team receive $1000 per month for six months leading up to the Olympic games - for a grand total of $6000 every fourth year. During the other 3 1/2 years they receive nothing.  Many of them remain on their parents' insurance and cellphone plans, and most work second or third jobs, all while training year-round for Olympic and World Championship participation and coping with constant financial insecurity and stress.  

Men's National Team players play in the NHL, earning multi-million-dollar salaries, enjoying insurance and medical care provided by the league and teams, and, during the Olympics, perks such as luxury travel and lodging negotiated by the NHL. The women aren't asking for financial rewards even approaching these.

"We're not asking for millions of dollars. We're not even asking for hundreds of thousands of dollars," says Monique Lamoureux-Morando, a two-time Olympic silver medalist and five-time World Championship gold-medalist, "I work as a strength and conditioning coach, and then I also run hockey camps...so I have second and third sources of income that I rely on as well. To be able to train full time and not have to worry about paying bills would certainly be nice."

But even more disturbing than the lack of financial compensation for the women, is the lack of respect for girls and women by USA Hockey in every facet of their operation. Here's a partial list of the slights that have been circulating in the media since the women's team announced their strike:

• For the Olympic jersey unveil in 2014, the Men's National Team was invited, but none of the women were. And while gold medals previously won by U.S. National Teams were listed inside the collars of the jerseys, the women's gold medal win in 1998 was omitted.
• The Women's Under-18 team has won five World Championships since they started competing in 2008, but they have never received a Championship ring, even though the U18 boys "get rings...a couple of months after they win," says Jocelyne Lamoureux-Davidson, who, like her sister Monique, is a two-time Olympic silver medalist and five-time World Championship gold-medalist. "If the senior women's team gets a ring - if we do - it's a couple years late. It just goes to show, oh sorry, we forgot about you, here's your ring from two years ago."
• To no avail, the women have repeatedly requested that USA Hockey schedule them to play more than the current nine games per year in Olympic years. Meanwhile, the teenage boys' national development teams play at least 60 games per year and often train in residence in the posh new training center in Plymouth, MI.
• The women consistently endure travel and lodging accommodations that are inferior to the men's and boy's. They remember waking up with spider bites during a residential training camp in Blaine, MN. Players who lived in the area actually brought their own bedding in an attempt at self-defense!
•  Teammates have watched as their goaltenders were forced to wear their (unmatching) college gear for tournaments, while the boys U18 goalies were kitted out with entirely new equipment for their events.
• And the final blow: USA Hockey currently spends $3.5 million annually on their development program for boys. They do not have a comparable program for girls.

USA Hockey has refused to promote the women's team, and refused to promote the sport among girls. Unlike the federations that control women's gymnastics, soccer, and figure-skating, over the years USA Hockey has actively discouraged victory tours by the women's team after successful tournaments. (Read U.S. women's soccer pioneer Julie Foudy's thoughts on this here. "There are a number of times we travel to different areas and people don't even know that the U.S. National Team, the U.S. Women's Olympic Team, is there, because nothing was made of it," says Knight.

The Ted Stevens Olympic and Amateur Sports Act requires sports' governing bodies - in this case, USA Hockey - to "provide equitable support and encouragement for participation by women where separate programs for male and female athletes are conducted on a national basis," as is the case in hockey. USA Hockey has clearly failed in this regard.

The women of the US National Team have finally said, enough is enough. They're going on strike. Not just for themselves, but for the younger women and girls who love the game and want to play - or who might want to, if they only knew it was an option for them. As team captain and two-time Olympic silver medalist, six-time World Championship gold-medalist Meghan Duggan says, "all of us consider it a privilege to put on a Team USA jersey. None of us wanted this day to come but we feel that we owe it to women players who came first in our sport, we owe it to ourselves, and we owe it to women in future generations."

The final final blow, in my opinion, is that USA Hockey, when faced with the players' de-facto strike, actually threatened to field a different team for the upcoming World Championship tournament. The players essentially dared them to do it, asserting that the women's and girls' programs were united down to the lower levels, and that none of them would play, even if asked. Captain Meghan Duggan reportedly made around 100 phone calls to women around the country to thank them for their support. "Everyone knows this is the right thing to do," said Duggan.

Information for this post came from:

U.S. Women's Hockey Team Plans to Boycott World Championship Over Pay Dispute

Women's Boycott Highlights Opportunity for Major Change at USA Hockey

U.S. Women's Hockey Team Willing to Risk Everything for Respect  

U.S. Women's Hockey Team Threatens to Sit Out World Championships  

U.S Women's Hockey Team Threatens to Boycott World Championship  

It's Time for USA Hockey to Wake Up and Support the Women's Team (by Julie Foudy)

Update: Yesterday the Women's National Team and their lawyers had a lengthy meeting with USA Hockey. There is hope that they will reach an agreement and that the team will play in the World Championships, scheduled to begin on March 31. See U.S. Women's Hockey Team Sees 'A Lot of Progress' Toward a Deal, via the New York Times.  

Agnes, Maria Campbell, and the light inside

Who is Agnes, protagonist of Seeking the Center? Where did she come from? The short answer is, I don't know. 

She's not autobiographical. I have never been as tough, as brave, or as smart-assed as she is. (I only wish I was!)

I've mentioned that she began, partly, as a question about being female in the overwhelmingly male world of ice hockey. And that's certainly true.

Ultimately, though, a lot of things entered into the mix that became Agnes's character. And while I will never uncover all of them, I can say that one major inspiration is the life of Maria Campbell, a Métis woman who persevered through extreme difficulties to become a writer, a teacher, a much-respected elder, and an advocate for Métis and women's rights.

I found Campbell's Halfbreed by chance, browsing the stacks at Powell's Books in Portland, Oregon, and I owe an eternal debt of gratitude to whomever it was that sold their used copy to Powell's! The autobiography is riveting and a must-read for everyone.

Campbell was born in 1940 in Park Valley, SK, a poor Road Allowance community. (Unlike other Aboriginal groups, the Métis were not granted rights to land under treaties with the Canadian government, so many were forced to squat on "road allowances" - Crown lands set aside for future roadways.) At age 33 she wrote Halfbreed, an autobiography documenting her life up until that time. In Halfbreed, Campbell never shies away from the poverty, alcoholism, violence, addiction, racism, and sexism that she faced, but she nevertheless manages to portray some of the beauty of her Métis culture and the love that existed within her family, troubled though it may have been.

While devastating at times, Halfbreed remains a testament to the dignity and spirit that people can possess, nurture, and share in defiance of even the direst circumstances and the most heartless enemies. Campbell has this light within herself, and she also has the ability to find it, and to inspire it, in others. In spite of people who fail her, and circumstances that drag her down, she retains the ability to love and to trust others, and to parlay that love into something that can sustain and nourish.

Agnes doesn't experience the hardship and desperation that Campbell did, but she has the same light inside her. And in Seeking the Center, she learns to find it and use it, for her own good and for the good of others.

Photos from a weekend of Badger hockey

A men's hockey game at the Kohl Center.

Pep band plays before the start of men's hockey game.

UW players on the bench.

Break out.

Screening the goalie.

View across the arena.

A couple of weekends ago I visited Madison, Wisconsin. I had hoped for a winter wonderland - snowshoeing in the woods, skating on an outside rink or even on a lake - but the weather didn't cooperate. However, I did get to see three (3!!!) hockey games at the University of Wisconsin. Watching live hockey is fascinating - you can see the plays unfold and check out the behind-the-play mayhem. When you watch a televised game, you can only see what the cameras show you.

On Friday evening the men's hockey team ("Badgers" is UW's nickname) suffered an overtime loss at the hands (paws?) of the Golden Gophers of the University of Minnesota - an epic duel of rodents. The men play in an arena about the same size as those used by professional NHL teams, with various food options, a pep band, and a large, very active student section.

On Saturday and Sunday I saw the women play. UW is the top ranked college team in the country and they didn't disappoint, beating the University of North Dakota Fighting Hawks both afternoons. The games were close, hard fought, and a ton of fun. The Badger women play in a new arena that seats close to 2300 extremely enthusiastic, emotionally invested fans. Attendance was good - even on Sunday, when the game overlapped with the Green Bay Packers' do-or-die playoff football game. I came away extremely inspired by these young women, on both teams, who battled it out with at least the ferocity that the men displayed. I wish that everyone could see them play!

The Kohl Center concourse features display cases related to athletics at the University.

This display portrays Brianna Decker, a UW alumna who, in 2012, won the Patty Kazmaier award for best female NCAA Division 1 hockey player. She currently plays for the Boston Pride in the NWHL. She is also on the U.S. national team. 

Introductions.

Going back the other way.

Romance, girl power and the Women's March

Romance novels sometimes get a bum rap - denigrated for taking on "trivial" subjects such as love and relationships. And, let's be real: the fact that the majority of their audience is female also earns them a fair amount of disrespect.

I've had enough of this. These so-called "women's issues"  - the issues that concern the creation of families, reproduction, and nurturing - are indisputably central to human life. Let's not allow them to be marginalized.

But I digress (slightly).

Not every novel has to be serious. A thriller in which a secret agent saves the world from an evil overlord can be flighty and fun, and that's fine. By the same token, romance per se is not trivial. It can be quite weighty.

Early on in Seeking the Center, Agnes identifies the force against which she will struggle during the course of the novel. She muses: 

Dad didn't want her to move to Wapahaska. He was afraid that she would never come back. From Wapahaska she would be lured to Thompson, or some other big city, a place that had mutated, like the cannibal Windigo of the old stories, into a silent, howling flash-freeze, parched and ravenous. But instead of feasting on her flesh, it would feast on her spirit.

Agnes was well aware of the dangers, though, and they didn't lurk in any particular geographical location. Being young, female, and brown-skinned meant that she was expendable, and set her up for the worst anyone anywhere cared to dish out. Huddling in fear at home in St. Cyp was no guarantee of safety, much less of vanquishing Windigo and feeding her own spirit.

Traditionally, Windigo is the cannibal spirit of the Algonquin tribes of sub-Arctic Canada, a place where, during the long, cold winters, starvation often threatened. In that difficult environment, in what must rank as one of the cruelest reversals imaginable, Windigo could possess a person so that, instead of feeding their family, that person would eat their family. Notice that the primary issue wasn't that Windigo could cause death, but rather that it could unravel our most important relationships and interdependencies. It could undermine the very foundation of society itself, and threaten the survival of humankind. 

During the centuries since Europeans first came to North America, Windigo has come to represent the greed of capitalism, colonialism, and imperialism which, in the words of scholar Grace Dillon, "makes sense because imperialism is cannibalism: the consumption of one people by another." (In my mind, at least, this links up with the longstanding, tragic issue of missing and murdered Indigenous women: these women have simply been consumed.) In Agnes's mind - and in her father's - Windigo is a force that threatens to swallow her up, either physically, spiritually or both.

What I didn't know when I first wrote Seeking the Center was the degree to which, in the traditional Windigo stories, the spirit targets women - often young women - by disrupting their potential marriages and their reproductive and nurturing roles. Windigo was no dummy - it struck at the very heart of the family and therefore of society. But what I also didn't know was that, in those same stories, women are the people most able to defeat Windigo, using tools and attributes associated with their traditional roles: i.e., pots, pans, knives, bodily fluids, and that extra-special something they possess when menstruating.

I bring all this up to say that these northern people put young women and their relationships front and center in the battle for the preservation of society. In Seeking, as in romance in general, the characters are looking to create relationships and, the implication often is, become a family unit, thus perpetuating society and humankind. Male as well as female - people of any gender - these romance characters win their personal battles to the extent that they engage their nurturing impulses, their capacity for love.

As Claude the hockey enforcer says in Seeking, "There's fighting on the outside, but the inside battle is what it's about. You know, taking care of each other." 

Which brings us to today, January 21, 2017, the start of a new era. Windigo threatens. Let's get out our pots and pans, and whatever we've got, and march, and fight. Our families and our society are depending on us.

A hockey-centric weekend in Toronto

Last weekend I attended the fall meeting of the Society for International Hockey Research, which was held at the above iconic location - Maple Leaf Gardens. They don't make 'em like this anymore! Maple Leaf Gardens was the home of the Toronto Maple Leafs from 1931 until 1999, and during that time played host to no fewer than nineteen Stanley Cup Finals. It has since been renovated and is now a multi-use facility, with a beautiful ice rink that hosted a stick and puck session, a public session, and a women's college hockey game on Saturday afternoon.

The Ryerson University women's hockey team plays a game in what used to be Maple Leaf Gardens. It is now called the Mattamy Athletic Centre.

The meeting featured a number of speakers from the world of men's professional hockey and related topics. Most notable to me was Richard Scott, a man who is committed to creating a league history for the CWHL, the ten-year old Canadian women's professional league, through his book Who's Who in Women's Hockey. He believes that tracking player stats, creating game timelines, designating 1st and 2nd All-Star Teams, awarding trophies for MVP and various positions, and the like, will enhance the allure and the legitimacy of women's professional hockey. He also noted parallels between the early years of men's pro hockey a century ago and these more recent early years of the women's leagues - parallels that are cause to be bullish on the future of the women's game. I made sure to thank him for his work and presented him with a copy of Seeking the Center.

In Toronto there's hockey everywhere you look - even in the subway!

In the evening I got to see the CWHL in action. My friend Benoît and I took the subway to the end of the line, and then got on the 44 Kipling Ave. South bus to the Mastercard Centre, a 4-rink facility which, aside from being home to the Toronto Furies of the CWHL, is also the Maple Leafs' practice facility and home to Hockey Canada. Along with several knots of Furies gear-clad girls and a number of families we watched the Toronto Furies take on the Brampton Thunder. The home team lost, but a good time was had by all.

Defenceman (yes, that's how you spell it in Canadian!) Jessica Platt up against the glass.

And there she is defending!

Sonja van der Bliek in goal.

Brampton attacking.

Ensconced in cases at the Mastercard Centre were memorabilia relating to many well-known Canadian athletes, including this amazing mask worn by goalie and 3-time Olympian Sami Jo Small.

Wearing Our Identity: an exhibit of Native clothing at the McCord Museum

Seeking the Center's Agnes Demers is hockey player and a tough, unsentimental young woman. But she also loves to cook for her friends and family, and is a craftswoman as well. Many of the women in my family also take pleasure in making clothing for their loved ones, especially for their children and grandchildren. The impulse to do this is ages old and, I think, very moving. 

Porter Son Identité (Wearing Our Identity), an exhibit at The McCord Museum in Montreal, has been a major source of inspiration to me in writing Seeking. It is an installation of First Nations, Inuit and Métis clothing that has to be seen to be believed. Next time you're in Montreal, do yourself a favor and check it out.

I also invite you to go to the webpage, look at the photos, and watch the short video narrated by Guislaine Lemay, one of the show's curators. (You can also find it on YouTube.) It's in French with English subtitles, and it touchingly conveys the very tangible expression of love that I tried to express in Seeking.

When Girls Became Lions

I grew up female, a teenager in the late '70s and '80s. Now my daughter is as old as I was then. I'm always telling her how different things are for her than they were for me. I know it must get tiresome, maybe even burdensome, for her to hear, but I think it's important.

It's actually not that easy to wrap your head around. The deep, pervasive sexism that kept parents and teachers from encouraging girls to play sports seems so incredibly stupid in retrospect, that it's hard even for me, who lived through it, to believe. But that is the way it was.

When I was my daughter's age, there was a nominal acceptance of the fact that, theoretically, girls had the right to equal opportunities in sports. But the fact is, girls playing sports was not, at that time, a thing. Almost no girls played anything--not in my community and socio-economic category, anyhow. And no one seemed to think it was a problem. I loved watching Tatum O'Neal in the original Bad News Bears (1976)--if you haven't seen it, you should; it's a highly entertaining portrayal of how things were back in those Dark Ages--but it certainly did not precipitate a rush to get girls into Little League.

I resisted reading this novel, by Valerie J. Gin and Jo Kadlecek, because it had an "agenda." But it was interesting and far exceeded  my expectations. A good read and one that tells an important story.

When Girls Became Lions (2015) tells part of the story of how we got from there to here. Set in 1983-4, in a small Ohio town, the novel is a fictionalized account of what happens when, more than a decade after the passage of Title IX, a public high school is threatened with the withdrawal of athletic funding unless it forms a girls soccer team--something its athletic director has resisted for years. It's also the story of how, a generation later, the new coach of the girls soccer team uncovers that original team's story--one that had been purposely suppressed because, well, who cares? They're girls.

Aside from being a compelling read, When Girls Became Lions documents an important piece of women's history, the history of our struggle to get our fair share of our communities' financial and, equally important, its emotional resources.

Every once in a while it's necessary to stop and reflect on what ties us together, as female human beings, across generations. And in my case, to be grateful to those women and men who stepped up so that my daughter can enjoy opportunities that I couldn't.

Getting just a wee bit political, maybe

Last night I attended the concert that showcases and honors this year's National Endowment for the Arts National Heritage Fellows. The National Heritage Fellowships are awarded by the Arts Endowment to "recognize the recipients' artistic excellence and support their continuing contributions to our nation's traditional arts heritage."

A basket woven by Theresa Secord, Penobscot Nation

In other words, the awardees are people who have taken a traditional art form--for example, Dakota flute making and performance or Laotian khaen playing, white oak basket making or Huastecan son performance--brought it, through their own personal passion, persistence, and skill, to the next level, and--very importantly--been persistent in their efforts to assure their art's survival by being teachers, spokespeople, and/or advocates.

The concert at which each year's honorees present their art is always an incredibly moving affair, presented by the National Council for the Traditional Arts and a small cadre of devoted folklorists who come back year after year to assist. This year it was broadcast live over the internet, and you can watch it here.

Believe me, I don't want to take anything away from the artists themselves, from the amazing variety and beauty of the traditions represented, or from the profound nature of taking a precious tradition, with deep roots, and carrying it forward to future generations. But to me the evening represented another sort of continuity as well. It began with a set of tunes performed by awardee Billy McComiskey, an Irish button accordion player from Baltimore, joined, to my surprise, by two previous heritage fellowship awardees Mick Moloney, a multi-instrumentalist and vocalist, and Liz Carroll of Chicago, one of the greatest Irish fiddle players you'll ever have the good fortune to hear. I have special places in my heart for both Mick and Liz, because I remember them as good people and great to work with. But Liz is special to me--I don't know why, maybe because she's a woman and not many years older than I am.

When Liz was awarded her heritage fellowship back in 1994, I was a young person working in the field of folklore in DC, lucky enough to score an invitation to the ceremony on Capitol Hill. First Lady Hillary Clinton officiated, and she was very engaged, taking time to greet and congratulate all the fellows, especially D.L. Menard, a Cajun musician from her home state of Louisiana. But she also expressed particular interest in Liz and in Liz's entourage, which included her two young children.

Twenty-two years later? I don't want to make this post political, but I can't help noting that Liz, her children now grown, continues to honor us with her lively, nuanced fiddle playing, and Mrs. Clinton, now a grandmother, is still seeking to further serve our nation.

I have great admiration for people who show such persistence in their true passion over the course of a lifetime. The wisdom and experience that they have accrued and are so willing to share are things that we can't afford to throw away. 

Girl literary role models: Before Hermione, there were Harriet and Claudia

Seen at Posman Books in Chelsea Market, Manhattan: a display of New York-related books, including Harriet the Spy (1964) and From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler (1967).

These two classics were favorites of mine when I was a girl. Their unapologetically smart, poised, self-assured heroines Harriet M. Welsch and Claudia Kincaid, respectively, were, decades before the appearance of Hermione Granger (1997), among the few girl literary role models in existence--among the few that I deemed worthy, in any case! 

Seeing these books on the shelf was like running into old friends. Never mind the afternoon's unexpected, heavy rain shower--I had a warm glow for the rest of the day.

Wanted: pond hockey woman

Don't you love the cover of Seeking the Center? I do. It's got so much texture, with close-up intensity but also a sense of distance that pulls you in. The dark ice bristles with cold but the rosy clouds give a hint of romance, which is appropriate to the story. And it's open-ended, leaving us free to imagine.

"Pond Hockey" © Mike Wilkinson

I'm very happy with it. But it wasn't what I initially envisioned for the cover of Seeking the Center. What I wanted was Agnes in her element, dangling a puck on some frozen pond, showing off some flashy hockey moves. I wanted to see a woman, not playing a structured game in full gear, but, rather, just having some fun, outside, maybe by herself, or maybe with a friend or two. It didn't seem like too much to ask, honestly -- especially considering that the internet is absolutely overflowing with pictures of men doing these things. 

But as it turns out, pictures of pond hockey women are nearly non-existent. Don't get me wrong, I found quite a few photos of women playing in pond hockey competitions, and in college or prep school games, but that's not what Seeking is about. I came across photos of younger girls playing with their dads or siblings, and to be fair, an occasional shot of a casual female pond hockey skater over the age of 12, but there was always some issue with it -- for example, giant snow-capped mountains in the background. (Uh, in Saskatchewan? I don't think so.) Or, the woman was old enough to be Agnes's kookum. Or, she's wearing figure skates. And there were so very few of these images to choose from!

Trust me: I spent hours and hours searching on every keyword and combination of keywords I could think of. If I'd have been looking for an image of a guy I would have had dozens to choose from. But in the end I came up with nothing.

What's up with this? Do women not skate in the great outdoors? Do they just not bring their cameras when they do? Does anyone have any thoughts on this?