Susan Olmstead Wang

I am from Fanny and Robert, Emma and Lynn, Phyl and Barney.

I am from Ida Mary, Fanny Laura, Phyllis Mary; no-nonsense Vermonters who found ironic humor in the everyday and for whom pouting and complaining were self-centered and spoiled.

I am from The Green Mountains and the Adirondacks, hillsides and pastureland whose creeks tumbled down to the Champlain Valley and The Mohawk River

I am from small towns facing each other across the Mohawk River – innocent years among dear hearts and gentle people – whose world is our high school days, and where the widow of the football quarterback is still minor royalty

I am from rack of lamb and Yorkshire pudding, apple pie and sugar cookies, rhubarb and Swiss chard from Uncle Brian’s child’s garden of delights 

I am from powdery Necco® wavers eaten one by one – in the order they come out of their wax paper roll or by the beauty of their pastel colors; with my favorite eaten first or, a child’s challenge, eaten last

I am from great books and seminar discussions, sipping afternoon tea sitting cross-legged on the carpet with sun streaming in from the windows facing the lake, a swarm of ideas to be ordered into a writing assignment and typed up on disobedient onion skin paper with a carbon sheet inserted for a copy

I am from stony beach – Lake Champlain rock in starkly contrasting dark grey and white – two unlikely fault lines come together in beauty and strength – so I could imagine a spouse, a family, a life “outside my race” and first culture

I am from grey-stone arched, shining wood beamed, light pouring in from stained glass windowed churches – colors dancing in the air above the words sung, spoken, and prayed

I am from cold delivery rooms where my conscious struggle through terrifying hours taught me that the most important thing in the world can be beyond my control  

I am from long evenings waiting, hoping things are going OK in the OR, hoping kids will come in safely, writing in circles stuck in a labyrinth, watching the last irregular breathing of old ladies who lived and died with us

I am from good years in which I do as I wish and share stories with those I have loved

The “I am from” format is inspired by Mary Pipher, Writing to Change the World, 2006. NY: Riverhead.