The term “story circle” was new to me until about three years ago. At first, it seems quite straightforward— get a bunch of people together in a room, seat them in the circle, and start asking them questions. Yes, that's the idea. .  . but there’s a lot more to it than just that. My understanding of story circles is based  on the work of Cornerstone Theater Company and  the  community events I participated in as part of my fellowship with the company in 2012. I learned a lot from that experience-- the work often begins WAY before the actual event takes place. The work is in every phone call, email, and conversation leading up to the gathering and the success often depends on the spirit, motivation, and sincerity of the initial invitation and willingness of the partners. Story circles are more than getting people together in a room. They are a process of listening, surrendering assumptions and clearly defining expectations.  

Story circles are an essential component of SISU is in the Heart. Prior to my arrival in Finland, I worked with Esa Honkimaki, the cultural director of Vanhu Paukku Cultural Center to arrange several story circle events in the Lapua region. One with a group of youth leaders, another with  a senior group interested in genealogy, and a third circle/puppet making session with a group of teenagers interested in art and theater. I also set up a few story and song sharing events with extended family members in the home of my great-grandfather’s brother in Kauhajarvi and the surrounding areas. From the beginning, a goal of this project has been to encourage inter-generational conversation, so I wanted to make sure I talked to people of all ages on my visit to my ancestral homeland. 

I asked many of the same questions I had asked in the circles in Fairport Harbor earlier this year-- What do you know about your great-grandparents? What values are most important to you? What would you include in a play about your community? 

I had been warned (a few times) to expect a certain kind of reticence: 

"Finns are quiet."
"It may be difficult to get people to talk." 
"Don’t worry! I’ve got some things written down just in case no one wants to speak."

But I didn't find this to be the case at all. The sessions were fun and lively and other than a few hiccups related to misunderstandings with translation from English to Finnish, the circles were a huge success and many people told me how much they enjoyed the chance to talk to one another and to get to know their peers and relatives.

I am struck by many things from the circles-- the importance of faith and education, the Finnish distinction between family and relatives, a perceived technological divide between youth and seniors, and an uncertainty about the future. But mostly, I am blown away by the similarities between Lapua and Fairport Harbor. I heard many of the same struggles, hopes, and  concerns on my visit to Ohio.  It is becoming clear to me that while this a project about family, it is also very much a project about place. There is an element of sisu that is linked to location, in the same way that people, words, and actions shape a community.  There are many possibilities for what will happen next and if my work with Cornerstone taught me one thing, it taught me that the answers are always right there in the room. 

Many thanks to those who accepted the invitation and joined the circles in Finland this past week!

-PC 

Check out more photos of the family events at: https://www.facebook.com/groups/419867471434183/

If YOU could include one thing in a play about Lapua or Kauha, what would it be?  

Email me at [email protected], or click the Share Your Stories link at the top of the page.

I am in Helsinki, in a private studio apartment on the 7th floor of the Lallukka Artist Home, an incredible functionalist style building built in 1933 as a refuge for artists. Today, the 51 units are filled with visual artists, composers, and performers. It is a symbol of the dedication and a lifetime commitment to art in Helsinki.

I arrived two days ago and was greeted by my relative, Antti Ojala (his grandfather was my great-grandfather’s brother—bonus points if you can figure out what that makes us!), and his wife Tuula. They have welcomed me into their home and life for a week. I had arrived by bus from Turku, where I attended the TIP-Fest (another blog post forthcoming). We sat and talked for a bit about my first visit to Finland in 2006, my plans for the project, and how we would collaborate with Tuula’s help translating. Simply put-- I would pick the colors and he would paint.

Our work started the next morning. I showed Antti the figures I had carved of his grandparents, Kustaa and Hanna, and my great-grandparents, Johannes and Maria, carved in the likeness of vaivaisukot, or pauper statues, an image that has influenced much of Antti’s 25 year career. We started by priming and sanding the heads and preparing them to paint. In the afternoon, Antti showed me a folder of reference materials that he had prepared to inspire our work together-- a study, a lithograph, and a block print of the Allanen, the homestead of our mutual relatives. I am quite sure these will inspire the scenic design of the performance. Mostly we talked, and looked, and contemplated in broken English and Finnish.

When I entered the studio the next morning, Antti had pinned up four quick charcoal studies of the heads, so that we could begin planning the colors. Together we decided on skin tone, hair, and eye color. We discussed what was accurate, but also what would look best in terms of contrast. Then we started to paint -- quickly, roughly, imperfectly and mostly in silence. When Tuula joined us for afternoon tea and coffee  she translated, “Antti says it is important to paint imperfectly. It can be messy like they would have been outside of churches.” We ended our work early so I could meet cousins for dinner.

I am just now waking up for our third day together. It is a little before the sun has come up.There will be just less than six hours of light today before the sun disappears again. It is a big day. A filmmaker is coming today to document our work together. Antti is also expecting the delivery of a finished wooden doll he commissioned inspired by a toy  he remembers from his childhood that Kustaa carved.  It is unclear to me what he intends to do with this figure, but has said a few times, “We can cast it in a lighter material for your purposes”. I will see what this means soon. . . This evening Antti will attend a  black tie event to celebrate the 125 anniversary of the Finnish Artist Association. 

Our work has lasted only a few days, but it feels connected to many lifetimes. 

-PC

7 hours ago I was boarding a plane at JFK airport. Now I am in the Amsterdam airport waiting for my flight to Helsinki. I can't help but think of my great grandfather and his journey across the ocean in 1900. He traveled from his tiny village of Kauhavjarvi to the port at Vaasa, across the ocean, into Canada and then down through the Great Lakes to Fairport Harbor, Ohio.  His trip was much, much longer than mine. He was 23, and he was leaving his family forever. I am 32 and leaving my family for only a month. He was leaving what he knew, and heading towards an unknown future. For me this travel is full of certainties - I will be able to communicate with the immigration officials, there will be English alongside Dutch and Finnish in the airports, and I even know what the rooms look like of the airbnb where I am staying and can virtually walk down the street using Google maps. But here's the one that gets me -- he was saying goodbye for his entire life. I can pick up a device and talk directly to my wife and even see her face any time, including when I am above 10,000 feet in an airplane.

I have been thinking a lot about goodbyes this year. I lost my mom in March. I had time to say goodbye, but the words were difficult to find. A goodbye for life. Even in writing this the words feel weird and look wrong on the page.  "Lost" seems harsh. Perhaps I should pad it in some way to be more correct? But death is harsh. Should I just say, "is no longer with us"? No, because my mom is still with me in so many ways.  She is with me as I travel, for sure, and on every step of this project. 

I'm wondering if the words for the goodbye I'm searching for are even necessary. I feel my conversations with her continuing each day, I hear her voice-- both before and after her sickness unraveled her syntax. It is a scary thing to welcome those sounds back, but I am trying to challenge myself to be okay with it.

This is a project about shortening the distance between "here" and "there" -- between the U.S. and Finland, between the towns where my great grandfather was born and a village on Lake Erie, practically unknown to him when he left home. But perhaps that is too simple of a way to look at it (of course it is). The "here" and "there" are also all of the uncomfortable spaces between these difficult moments-- the time between saying hello and goodbye, the years between a diagnosis and hospice, the lag in a conversation between relatives you don't know very well, the silence of water in a Finnish lake, and the space in between the beats of our hearts. 

So, as I write and wait for my plane, I am trying to prepare myself to say hello-- to embrace the unknown, despite all of the familiarity that surrounds me in this shiny modern airport. My task is simple: to go to Finland, to listen, to search, to be present.  I am not searching for the words to say goodbye to my mom, but instead, how to say hello again.

-Park

I just baked my first pie!  WHA?!?!? Park just baked something? REALLY!? Why would he do that?

Let me explain-- I'm attending an event titled, "Battle of the Pies" tomorrow. I've been pretty excited about it for a few weeks now. I love pie. It's not often that pie gets to be the center of attention. Cake certainly does (much to my chagrin as a true "cake hater"). Take a moment to consider: birthday parties, cake walks, t.v shows, etc. Cake shows up everywhere.  It's time for pie to have the spotlight! 

I started considering what I would take with me a few days ago. My original thought was to attempt a complex recipe for moon pies included in a recent issue of Garden & Gun Magazine. When I mentioned this to my wife, she starred at me over her glasses for a long time trying to decided if I was joking or being serious. I quickly reconsidered and decided I better look for something simpler for my first attempt at baking something from scratch. That's probably not entirely true. . . I've certainly helped assemble pies and assisted with mixing. I know the concepts of a pie. I just haven't ever attempted one of my own from start to finish. . . 

Speaking of "Finnish" (does this pun hold up in print?) I woke up this morning and realized that since I'm spending this year discovering everything I can about my ancestry that I should attempt a traditional Finnish  pie. There is a BuzzFeed article out there called, 42 Traditional Finnish Foods That You Desperately Need In Your Life, so. . .  I started there, and that's when I saw it, # 35 Omenapiirakka -- APPLE PIE! 

It struck me like a bolt of salama (that's the Finnish word for "lightening").  A recipe for omenapiirakka has been part of my life since a very young age.  I remember a framed burlap bag from Finland that hung in my Mom and Dad's kitchen for many, many years. I immediately called by Dad:

Me: (excitedly) Hi.I'mmakingapieandneedtofindtherecipeforomenapiirakka.Doyouknowwhereitis?
Dad: What?
Me: Can you please look in the attic and see if we still have the framed recipe for Finnish apple pie?
Dad: Oh, that! Mom made it once. I didn't like it very much, but other people seemed to. . . 
Me: Great! Do you think you can also find the translation.
Dad: I'll see what I can do. . . 
Me: THANKS! 

An hour or so later an email showed up with a photo of the recipe. It was exactly what I remembered! Luckily, he also found the handwritten translation from my great aunt Eileen.  

I never met my Aunt Eileen. She was born in Fairport Harbor in 1920,   eight years after my Grammie was born. She was the youngest of my great grandfather's children and one of the four Ojala children that lived to adulthood. I recently met one of Eileen's grandsons, Eric,  on a trip to New York.  He had vivid memories of visiting her in Fairport Harbor during the summers and on holidays and of her cooking abilities. I never got the chance to meet her because she died the year I was born, but it occurs to me that making this pie might let me get to know her, or at least her cooking. 

Lucky for me, the ingredient list is exceedingly simple:

1/2 lb of sliced apples (viipaloituja omenoita)
2 eggs (munaa)
5 tbsp of sugar (sokeria)
6 tbsp of wheat (white) flour (vehnajauhoja) 

Almost too simple. . . shouldn't there be some other ingredients, or am I just used to recipes and products with 50 + ingredients? 

I ask my Finnish friend, Pia on Facebook:

Whew! The possibility of failing is minimal. . . but then again, she doesn't know that I haven't ever baked before. I foresee a thousand of possible errors. I decide to try to stick to the recipe  as close as possible and to document my evening in photos. . . 

As part of the story circles this past May, participants were asked to think about what you can SEE/HEAR/SMELL/TOUCH/TASTE  in Fairport Harbor.  Take a look at what the differences are between NOW and 100 years ago! 

What would your answers be?

Add your thoughts in the comment section, or email me at: [email protected].

Two weeks ago, I headed to Fairport Harbor to start the research for SISU is in the Heart, with the support of a grant from Finlandia Foundation® National.  During my visit I hosted two "story circle" events to tell people about my project and to learn about the history of the village and why people are proud to call Fairport "home".  The first event took place at The Finnish Heritage Museum, as part of their monthly meeting (which coincided with national Apron Day!) and the second event took place  the next evening at the Fairport Harbor Senior Center, with support from Discover Fairport Harbor. Over the course of two nights, I met and talked with over 50 people from the community!

The stories and reflections shared during these event will serve as a jumping off point as I begin to write an original play inspired by Fairport Harbor and my own personal family ancestry.  The play is not intended to be a documentary, but more of a "stew" with the flavors of the village appearing throughout the script. As I listened  to the voices in the room,  Fairport (of today and of the past) swirled up around me-- colorful characters, important locations, historical dates, traditions, celebrations, tragedies, small details and momentous events that have shaped the character of this small town on Lake Erie . I was struck by the community's deep commitment to education and faith, sincere pride in their heritage and ancestry, and a strong inter-connected spirit that defines the village.  I feel grateful for the warm welcome, candor, and the hospitality that I encountered, and look forward to the task of crafting a play for this wonderful place.

For those of you who were not able to attend, I have include lots of photos below, along with examples of the questions and story prompts that came up as we talked. If you would like to contribute to the project, please share your stories by clicking the SHARE YOUR STORIES link at the top of the page of by sending an email to [email protected].  

-Park  

Questions and Prompts
-What is your ancestry?
-What is one thing we wouldn't know about you just by looking?
-Pick a corner: Are you the. . .  Youngest  / Eldest / Middle / or only child?
-Pick a corner: I would change my like for . . . Money / Love / Opportunity / Freedom
-Have you ever changed details about a family story? If so, why? 
-Why is it important for younger generations to know about their heritage?
-What is the one thing that should be included in a play about Fairport?

Pick a Corner
-Have you lived here . . . . your whole life / a few years / gone away and come back / just visiting?
-The most important thing to me is . . .  Family / Community / Faith/ Legacy
Wagon Wheels
-Tell you partner about time that you had to exhibit "sisu"
-Is there any juicy gossip in your family?
-Tell your parents about a relative that you wish you had been able to meet
Open Questions
-Have you ever had to give up on something and return home?
-Is there anything you would change about Fairport's past? 
-What do you hope for the future of Fairport? 
-What is the one thing that should be included in a play about Fairport?

SISU in the Heart  begins. . . 

This coming Sunday (May 11, 2014) is the 110th wedding anniversary of my great grandparents. They left their homes in Finland, boarded an ocean liner, and arrived in the U.S. in 1900. My great-grandmother Maria Adolphina Knuuttila, 17 at the time, left her home in Isokyrö, a small town in western Finland, and was sent to Fairport Harbor (pictured below on the left), where her mother's brother had settled 12 years earlier. My great-grandfather, Johannes Andrew Ojala, was the youngest of 14 brothers and sisters, and was convinced  he  wouldn't be given a piece of the family farm (pictured below on the right). He headed to the U.S.  in search of a new life. Beyond this rough sketch, the details are hard to fill in with any certainty, but as I uncover immigration documents, photos, newspaper articles, church records, and talk with relatives and other Finns about their stories, a more rounded and colorful story has started to emerge.

In all family storytelling there are moments when reality and fiction blur. We enhance certain details (or leave out certain key facts) in order to make ourselves, or our families, look honorable, brave,  humorous, generous,  heroic, politically correct,  gracious, or simply more likable and appealing.  I know my great grandparents immigrated in 1900, found themselves in Fairport Harbor, and were married at the Suomi Zion Church on May 11, 1904.  But what happened in those four years? When exactly did they meet ? Is there any chance they were on the same boat?  Did they fall in love at sea? Was their marriage a matter of predicament (their first child, Adolph, was born in October of 1904-- not quite nine months after their marriage)? Were photos taken of their ceremony? What kind of music played? Did their families know of their intentions, or was a postcard dropped in the mail as soon as the heavy church bells rang only to take weeks to cross the ocean and find its way to their parents? Or, had family ties been severed? 

As a genealogist, I am having some of these questions answered with the help of the duteous record keeping of The Finnish Heritage Museum, as well as immigration records made available by Ancestry.com (researcher tip: You can often gain free access to the online records on holidays). Below is the ship manifest for a boat that arrived in Halifax, Nova Scotia on March 1, 1900 .  John Ojala's name appears on the top line (age 17). Below it, Matti Kuivila (age 20), listed as a friend, and then below that. . . another John Ojala (aged 25).  Maria's name is nowhere to be found on the manifest. . . 

With each discovery, new questions emerge. Who was this friend? Is he the one pictured with my great grandfather in this unmarked portrait I recently found in a box of my grandmother's belongings? Are the descendants of this man still in Ohio? Who was this second John?  Was it simply a clerical error? Is there a chance, the second "John" was his brother Kustaa traveling under his name? The age is right, but according to family Kustaa didn't visit Ohio until 1905 and THAT story is for another post entirely . . .  

As a playwright, I have choices to make about how I connect the dots in the script for SISU is in the Heart. How I tell the life story of my great grandparents will be shaped by the other family stories that I will hear over the next year in story circles and interviews with other Finnish Americans.  My great-grandparents, two people I  simply knew as "my Finnish relatives"  for so many years, are becoming more and more a part of my life. They are becoming real to me.  I am getting to know them despite the distance of more than 100 years. As I move ahead, there will be parts of their life that I choose to emphasize for the sake of telling a good tale, and elements I  ignore to make things more interesting-- that's what makes great theater! Writing their story will be 3 parts research, 2 parts guess work, and 1 part a conscious and deliberate blending of details to tell the story I feel compelling to share. I invite you along with me on this journey to dramatize their story. 

Kiitos! 

Park Cofield
May 8, 2014

Please join us next week!