Fighting her own battles
One-room Schoolhouses, Reading Month, Women's History, and more
I’m from a one-room schoolhouse
I outgrow a little more each day.
From diaries kept hidden under my bed
and tender dreams that bloom like apple blossoms,
soft flowers with the possibility of
becoming fruit
if they can find a place on the branch
with space to grow,
where the sun can reach.
— Claire, “Where I’m From,” p. 2
Enemies in the Orchard is told from two perspectives — and one thing I worked on very hard as a writer was to make sure both Claire and Karl had strong, distinct voices.
But I’ll be honest, Karl’s story often garners a bit more attention Claire’s. Many of the questions I field after events and school visits are centered around Karl and the experience of German POWs in America during WW2. Karl is, after all, the enemy in the orchard. He is the teenage boy who finds himself ripped out of war, and now picking apples in a Michigan orchard. He is the one saved who seems to have been saved by being captured.
But examine a bit closer and you’ll see that Claire often feels trapped, too. She is fighting her own battles—to stay in school, to help maintain an orchard during wartime, to find her voice, to figure out how much grace and forgiveness she’s capable of giving, and to endure the weight of grief.
“The longer I stay
in this schoolhouse,
the longer I live in this town,
the more space
I take up
and the less
I feel I belong.”
-Claire, “Overgrown,” p. 31
Claire’s character, like many aspects of my novel, is inspired by events in my own family history. Star School, a one-room schoolhouse stood on the corner of my grandparent’s orchard and welcomed decades of children. My Uncle Randy went to the schoolhouse for the first few years of his education, and some of the schoolhouse scenes in the book are based on stories he’s told me.
Also inspired by my family story is the pressure Claire is under to quit school because a girl with an education was seen as frivolous in 1944 in her small town. None of my four grandparents finished high school. My paternal grandfather quit school because his help was needed on his family farm after his two brothers were deployed during WW2 and his father died young. My maternal grandfather was not a strong student and was told “he wouldn’t amount to much,” and should just get a job in a factory. Both of my grandmothers were told that they didn’t need any more schooling, as it was assumed their only aspiration would be to have children and run a household.
“ ‘Is Claire really back in school this fall?
What else does she need to know?’
This is not a question
and she does not wait for a response.
“I quit school by her age and so did Danny.
Once this war is over and the boys come home,
she’ll find a nice guy and get married.
Why waste her time
messing with math problems
and reading stories?”
- Josie, Claire’s older sister in, “Sunday Dinner, After Church,” p. 37
When I visit schools to talk about my book, the students look at me like I’m crazy when I suggest that Claire’s parents and community assumed she’d quit school in eighth grade. Usually, a few students even suggest they’re jealous of her option to be done. But I hope when young readers read this book, they can recognize the courage of Claire, the ferocity of her dreams in spite of the expectations set for her.
I also hope they notice a quieter hero in my story: Miss VerWys, the teacher who refuses to give up on Claire or her dreams.
But giving up my dreams,
having to quit school
like every other woman in my family has done,
feels more like a life sentence
than a sacrifice.
- Claire, “Punished,” p. 190
March is Reading Month, and I’m grateful to spend a lot of time in schools this month. March is also Women’s History Month, and I also hope that through this book I’ve given voice to those women, like my grandmothers, who weren’t always expected to have one.
A few other notes:
The Calvin Festival of Faith and Writing returns in-person this spring after a covid hiatus, from April 11-13. I’m excited to be attending and leading a Festival Circle: Teachers Who Write, Writers Who Teach. I’d love to have other educators (any age or stage welcome!) join us for these lunch discussions. The Reformed Journal, where I’m a frequent contributor, will have a table at the Festival, too. I’ll be hanging out there often and would love to meet you. I’ll be signing books — watch for the exact time and additional details to come as the Festival schedule is released.
I’m celebrating some friends with books just released or coming out soon!
Jeff Munroe, my editor at the Reformed Journal, who has now become a good friend recently released Telling Stories in the Dark, the first in what we hope is many books to carry the Reformed Journal Books label. Munroe’s book is a nonfiction collection of stories of those who have dealt with unimaginable grief, and examines what Frederick Buechner calls "the stewardship of pain."
Natalie Dykstra, my mentor and dear friend since I was her undergraduate student, releases Chasing Beauty: The Life of Isabella Stewart Gardner on March 26. Natalie is a gifted biographer and a meticulous writer who takes care of every sentence as she delves into the life of Gardner, a complex and accomplished art collector. This “extraordinary achievement of storytelling and scholarship” is both a work of art and a work of love. It will be a great read for Women’s History Month!
My writing soul mate, Elizabeth, and her friend Samantha will be releasing Irreverent Prayers: Talking to God When You’re Seriously Sick in July, but you can pre-order it now! Both pastors who have been through serious illness, Elizabeth and Samantha share a collection of candid, darkly humorous prayers written by two people of deep faith who have been through deep pain. I’ve gotten a chance to read several of the drafts of the prayers, and I have no doubt they’ll be a welcome gift to those dealing with illness who are tired of trite cliches (even if they are well-meaning.)
Here’s to a March of Reading and celebrating Women’s histories!
With gratitude,
Dana