By Joanne Johnston
Joanne Elliott-Storlie Johnston says, “See ya, ‘bye!”
It’s a heart-wrenching experience to be leaving Mini-School. Unlike Doug, I’m not retiring, just changing jobs. It’s been on my mind the last few years as my job, Mini-School, and the world has changed. Am I being true to myself? Or am I shooting myself in the foot? Is this decision best for everybody involved? I frequently suggest Mini-School kids ask themselves these questions about decisions they’re making. And now I’m asking myself the same questions.
I’ll never forget getting to laugh right out loud so many times a day because Mini-School kids can be so funny. Staff, too.
Being the Mini-School para has been the best job I’ve had in my 56 years. Well, maybe growing up in the river rafting business in California, and working ten summers as a white-water guide was more fun.
I’ll never forget Lester’s and my first woman-led big trip to the Grand Canyon with Mini-School.
Or maybe working for Outward Bound when I was first married. But when I had a family (daughter Kristin is now 28) I needed to be home and be more grown up and responsible.
I’ll never forget all the ridiculous (and serious and sad) reasons kids couldn’t make it to school.
Mini-School became my family of spirited kids. I’ve known hundreds of Mini-Schoolers over the years I’ve worked here. Maybe being a spirited kid myself in high school made it easier for me to fit in, I don’t know.
I’ll never forget doing Women’s Studies with Lester, and the all-women canoe trips.
When I first came to Mini-School in 1978, I felt like I’d come home. I didn’t know it then, but I still had some growing to do, and I needed a nurturing environment. Mini-School and Doug Berg, Randy Nelson, Lester Hughes-Seamans, and Norm Garneau provided that environment.
I’ll never forget the munchy room, bringing our dogs to school, and the outrageous slide shows at Recognition Night.
I’ve been in the unique position of being able to really listen to kids and parents, play and work with kids in the Mini office, in the classroom and on trips. I could care about kids and their families, and generally get to know them as whole people.
I’ll never forget my student office helpers, especially on Mondays. And I’ll never forget the day that ’79 grad Brad Johnston walked into the office to see his old Mini Staff.
And they got to know me as a whole person, rather than as just the secretary/para who did the paperwork.
I’ll never miss doing the monthly ALC report, that’s for sure.
The Mini-School philosophy of taking kids where they are and working with their positive qualities and characteristics seemed like such a humane way to live and work.
I’ll never forget kids coming over to make flapjacks and do Com-Mini-Cations.
And being able to be with kids and other like-minded adults in the wilderness was such a blessing. The wilderness has been a healing place for me and hundreds of Mini-School kids.
I’ll never forget all the Mark Warren trips to Doug’s cabin on the St. Croix River. My personal favorite was on my 50th birthday, when I was paddling an empty canoe back from the sweat lodge island to pick up more kids. It was a gray October day, and as I came through the fog I heard the strains of a soft “Happy Birthday” being sung by the kids waiting on the shore.
I believe people are put on this earth to love and be loved. And that’s what I said to the big roomful of kids when I came back to Mini-School in 1992, after working in corporate America for three years. I told ‘em I needed to be in a job where I could be myself, would fit in, and still be loved.
I’ll never forget the Mini-Schoolers and their families helping me move out of my house and past my grief as my 25-year marriage ended.
In that same Mini-School Tuesday meeting I also told them I would love them even when they were the most unlovable. Nobody laughed.
I’ll never forget the guys in my Men’s Issues groups, sitting on my deck in the morning sunlight, eating the Annual Breakfast with Brad the last week of school.
Most of our students are at their best when they’re outside and at their worst when they’re in school. They’re just not school animals. But most are so giving, so smart, so funny, so excited, so happy, so comfortable, so beautiful, so confident, and so competent at their jobs, on trips, and outside of school. It’s been a joy and a pleasure knowing them.
I’ll never forget walking to breakfast at Perkins with the Men’s Issues class. They were known to be Perkins’ best school group to the school board members we would see there. Good tippers, too.
An era has ended. And it’s time for Four Moons Otter Woman (thank you, Mark Warren) to move on. It’s been an honor to walk alongside my students, their parents, the Mini teachers, and all the people who have supported the Mini-School Program. You’ve been so precious to me on this part of my journey. Thank you for letting me be part of yours. Let’s keep in touch.