$5.00
montana woman magazine
ISSUE NO 11, MARCH/APRIL 2021: CANDICE ENGLISH / WOMEN'S HISTORY MONTH
table of contents VIGNETTES |
30
HARPIES
Autumn Toennis
73
A STRONG WOMAN
Morgan Holcomb
42
OLD CLYDE PARK
Chloe Nostrant
66
WILD WISDOMS
Sydney Munteanu
FOOD & SPIRITS |
10
BLUEBERRY CRUMBLE MUFFINS
A classic breakfast favorite
14
JUS TWON EMORE: PART II
Negronis for two
EDITOR'S DESK |
18
THE BOOKKEEPER'S LIST
Reading recommendations from the editor
3, 7, 96
SELECT WRITINGS
Letters & poems THE NORTH FORK 4
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44 candice english: the farmer’s daughter fibers
ART & DESIGN |
24
WILDFLOWERS
Happy cross stitch for cold winter days
58
KNITTING A DROPLET HAT
Stix Yarn & Farmer’s Daughter Fibers
LIFE |
32
TRY STANDING ON YOUR HEAD
A look at a woman between the pages of history
38
TO MY DAUGHTER
A letter for the history you will make
64
I MISS
The many faces of longing
68
THE SHAPE WE HOLD
Gifts from the generations
74
A STORY WITH A HAPPY ENDING
Told in honor of the women who lost their lives to pregnancy and childbirth
80
MINDFULNESS MATTERS
How we make progress
WELLNESS |
84
LEVITATION NATION
Grace & Grit
90
KALISPELL REGIONAL HEALTHCARE
Take care AMSKAPI PIIKUNI, KOOTENAI, SELIS, & QLISPE LANDS | MEGAN CRAWFORD mon tan awoman .com | marc h/ap r il 2 02 1
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montana woman
OWNER & EDITOR
megan crawford
Montana Woman is a platform. It’s a place to celebrate our achievements, a place to support each other, a place to acknowledge the resilience of the women of this state. It doesn’t necessarily matter where you’re from, you’re here now. In all of your loudness, your boldness, your fearlessness— you are here. We’re here, together. We publish a statewide magazine every other month that features women across Montana— the movers and shakers, the go-getters, the rule-breakers, the risk-takers. We all have a story to tell.
CREATIVE DIRECTOR
megan crawford
BUSINESS MANAGER
carrie crawford
Montana Woman Magazine as you know it began in October 2019. Right out of the gate with photographer Alexis Pike as the first cover feature— clad in fringe pants and a motorcycle helmet in a Bozeman alleyway— we’ve always been authentically ourselves. We believe in showing up as you are. You don’t need to change who you are to have a seat at the table. No matter your age, your identity, your hometown, you are welcome here. We believe in creating a publication that’s worth reading because we have stories worth telling.
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PHOTOGRAPHERS
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BACK COVER
megan crawford THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING
EDITING DEPARTMENT
megan crawford kelsey merritt emily adamiak
CHINOOK LANDS
select back cover prints are avail able at meganlcrawford . com / shop
PUBLIC REL ATIONS
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ADVERTISING, DISTRIBUTION, & SUBMISSIONS
Contact the editor at info@montanawoman.com or (406)260-1299. Submissions are not accepted through the phone, postal service, or social media.
Montana Woman is a registered trademark and may not be used without permission. The information contained in this magazine is provided as is. Neither Montana Woman or the publisher make any representation or warranty with respect to this magazine or the contents thereof and do hereby disclaim all express and implied warranties to the fullest extent permitted by law. Montana Woman and the publisher do not endorse any
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individuals, companies, products, services, or views featured or advertised in this magazine. ©2021 Montana Woman. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be produced without written permission from the editor.
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letter from the editor— These words rolled around my brain like marbles in a tin can for a while. Just constantly rattling, echoing, finding their way back at the front of my subconscious— the synchronicity of it all. That somehow we have all managed to exist now, which is a feat in and of itself; that everyone you know has managed to be here, at the same time and place as you. How wonderful that you are here now. One of my favorite things about summer (which I’m now sincerely missing in this subzero February in a grey Flathead Valley) is stargazing. The best kind is at the end of a bonfire, when everything smells like smoke and the only light left is a rolling amber glow. I can remember the first time I went stargazing in Montana, what it felt like to actually see the Milky Way. It’s beautiful and
terrifying, you simultaneously feel so big and so small. There are so many stars, the night stretches on for longer than you can even fathom, there’s so much out there that we don’t even know about. The magnitude of what we will never know. But, cosmically speaking, from our perspective, our existence is more rare than a sky full of stars— if you’ve been in Montana at night you know that the stars are endless. But despite the sheer magnitude of it all and how easy it is to feel small, your act of just existing is radical. There’s nothing else like it. You being you is a remarkable thing, because you’re here. You are here now, reading these letters on this paper in this magazine. Maybe it’s fate, maybe it’s chance, but it’s a beautiful thing nonetheless. So, thank you for being here. From me, from the people you love, from the people you will someday meet, from the sky and all her stars.
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contributors
8
KELSEY MERRITT
SYDNEY MUNTEANU
STEPHANIE EVANS
WHITNEY POLICH
CHLOE NOSTRANT
NICOLE DUNN
LAUREN WILCOX
MORGAN GEMAY MARKS
MEAGAN SCHMOLL
SARAH HARDING
BARBARA FRASER
AUTUMN TOENNIS
JESSLYN MARIE
EMILY ADAMIAK
MINDY COCHRAN PHOTO BY KIRALEE JONES
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THE SPA
book your appointment (406)892-8728 today!thespa@meadowlake.com
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behind the cover
COVER MUSE
candice english PHOTOGRAPHER
kaitlin amerding LOCATION
great falls
read about candice english on page 44 mon tan awoman .com | marc h/ap r il 2 02 1
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| FOOD & SPIRITS
blueberry crumble muffins BY L AUREN WILCOX
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temp: 350˚F
bake: 30 min
ingredients FOR THE MUFFINS
2 Cups All-Purpose Flour ¾ Cup Granulated Sugar ¾ Cup Milk ¼ Cup Vegetable Oil 2 ½ Teaspoon Baking Powder ¾ Teaspoon Salt 1 Teaspoon Vanilla Extract 1 Egg 2 Cups Frozen Blueberries
FOR BLUEBERRY MUFFINS:
FOR THE CRUMBLE TOPPING
½ Cup Sugar ½ All-Purpose Flour ½ Teaspoon Ground Cinnamon ¼ Cup Cold Unsalted Butter
method
In a medium bowl, combine the dry ingredients: flour, salt, sugar, and baking powder. In a large bowl (or the bowl of a stand mixer), combine oil, milk, and egg and mix until well combined. Mix the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients until a smooth and thick batter forms. In a small bowl, dust your frozen blueberries with some flour until each of them is lightly coated. Gently stir these into the muffin batter. Fill a muffin pan with 12 cupcake liners and fill each with muffin batter to the top. Set aside and prepare the crumble. FOR CRUMBLE TOPPING:
Combine flour, sugar, and cinnamon and mix until combined. Cut butter in small cubes and incorporate with flour mixture, until a medium crumble forms. Pour a tablespoon full of crumble mixture on top of each of the filled muffins. Bake at 350°F for 30 minutes until the muffins are a light golden brown.
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e r o m E n o w T s u J BY MEAGAN SCHMOLL
PART TWO
Many light years away, a planet regarded with weighty importance by “the” inhabitants shifted its weight. A minor problem occurred. Was it gin-related? Potentially. Did it have to do with a very serious looking yet neglected lever (pronounced “leeever”) that might be connected to the universe of worlds and outer regions of space and times yet undiscovered? Probably. Was that lever now making strong sounds and intimidating noises? Hard to say… The noises were definitely heavy, and they “seemed” to have sound. The guard on duty of “the lever” stared— she stared at its noises, then looked back at the more pressing words on the bottom of the now empty bottle… the words looked at her: “Jus Twon Emore.” She stared, thinking deeply, allowing the eyes to blur. Ever so slightly, the letters invitingly swam together. Well, one thing was for certain: this bottle— as had many others— gave her sound advice, and she knew one must never disregard sound advice from a bottle, especially when the letters danced together so agreeably. With a clear and attentive movement from an unseen pocket, a cap was popped and a nod given to the wise dancing words that had imparted such wisdom. The guard always had a spare or two for such an occasion, and the spares were always crafted from her intuitive know-how with spiritous flavors. Her ancestors would be proud of her combining alchemy of flavor and history. Like the words, these flavors danced well together… how could she say “no,” especially considering that the bottle literally invited her to have one more. It was her choice. She took another sip and breathed. The lever casually squeaked and, if the guard wasn’t mistaken, winked? “Can a lever wink…?” She wondered. The wink became an inquiring voice, “Mind if I have a sip?”
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| FOOD & SPIRITS
NEGRONI — makes two 3 parts Ransom Old Tom Gin 2 parts Carpano Bitter 2 parts Carpano Classico Sweet Vermouth
Combine into a jar or bottle. Put on the lid. Write on a piece of paper “Jus Twon Emore” then tape that onto the bottom of your storing container. Place in fridge for later sipping.
TO SERVE:
Open and pour over ice. Stir with finger until finger is chilled. Garnish, if available, with a twist of Orange.
NOTES ON OLD TOM GIN:
Gin was originally quite harsh. Flavors, botanicals, spices, and sugars were added to mask the harsh liquid that in some instances could make an individual go blind. At one point, as with the histories of our countries, “gin” was made illegal. And, as people do when it comes to things they want, they figured out code words or underground ways to access them. One such symbol was the sign of a cat; if seen above a door or inn, those that cared knew that here was a place to procure the beloved spirit they knew of as gin. Thus, in short, Old Tom was born. Ransom Old Tom is a beautiful way to enjoy such an expression. It’s what I think gin would have tasted like back then when it was made well and masterfully crafted. The botanicals play on your pallet as if in a teasing dance with soul-lifting surprises and heartfelt beats. Truly delightful.
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Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known. CARL SAGAN
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IMAGE BY STEPHEN WHEELER
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EDITOR'S DESK |
THE BOOK KEEPER’S LIST BY MEGAN CRAWFORD
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I
used to be an avid reader. Whole days were spent in the rocking chair in the corner of the family room by the fireplace, reading until it was dark out. Then I, like many of my peers, went to college and somehow lost the ability to sit and read. Maybe it was the 600-page history books that were required for class or the mindless convenience of Netflix, but it happened either way. So, this year, I’ve decided that I’ll finally love reading again. It’s not the easiest thing to admit as an editor (it feels like a cardinal sin), but prior to this year, I hadn’t read a book from cover to cover since sometime in college, probably around 2016— at least five years ago. I’ve started books, but I never read them frequently enough or I’d find myself accidentally rereading the same line or spacing out for an entire paragraph (of course, we do have to remember that I edit a magazine and read about 100,000 words a month for this alone, but still, c’est la vie). So, I’ve set myself a goal for ten books for 2021. Any book, any genre, no concerns about page length or how deep or conceptual the writing is— just what I want to read. At the time of writing in February I’m well into my fifth book, so hopefully this will live on in issues to come. Below are three recommendations from January:
The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue (2020) v.e. schwab setting: 18th century France, 2014 New York City feeling: existential notes: Faustian historical fiction, good for readers who enjoy time hops, multiple perspectives, nonlinear storytelling, and plot twists.
The Stationery Shop (2019) marjan kamali setting: 1950s Tehran and California, 2013 New England feeling: longing notes: historical fiction, also has some time & perspective hops, beautifully written, captivatingly heartbreaking.
We Should All Be Feminists (2014) chimamanda ngozi adichie A ted Talk translated to text— a concise 48-page essay that we should all read (the ted Talk is 30 minutes long if that’s more your speed!).
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see the art & make the art at the square a contemporary art museum
The Paris Gibson Square Museum of Art (The Square) in Great Falls, Montana has been exhibiting art, teaching art and supporting the development of contemporary art and artists since 1977. Housed in the historic Great Falls school built in 1896 by Paris Gibson, the founder of Great Falls. The Square is known for its exceptional rotating exhibitions showing local, regional and national contemporary artists, in addition to its outdoor sculpture garden and educational gallery programing. The museum offers outstanding onsite studio classes to the community in ceramics, printmaking, painting, drawing and more!
PARIS GIBSON SQUARE MUSEUM OF ART
1400 First Avenue North Great Falls, MT 59401 (406)727-8255 www.the-square.org www.facebook.com/PGSMOA/
HOURS OF OPERATION
Open Monday-Friday 10am to 5pm, including Tuesday Evenings 5-9pm, and Saturday Noon to 5pm. Closed Sundays and Select Holidays.
free admission!
Exhibitions presented by Paris Gibson Square Museum of Art are supported in part by the Montana Arts Council, a state agency funded by the State of Montana and the National Endowment for the Arts. Additional funding is provided by museum members and the citizens of Cascade County, and generous support from Montana Federal Credit Union and D.A. Davidson.
I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life.
IMAGE BY SAMSON KATT
SYLVIA PL ATH
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always something special
M O N TA N A’ S C O M P L E T E F U R N I T U R E & D E S I G N R E TA I L E R S I N C E 1 9 76 It’s no accident that Wright’s Furniture in Whitefish has become a favorite destination for home furnishings and accents. Since the first family members opened the business doors in 1976, Wright’s Furniture has focused on providing competitive prices backed by service and highly knowledgeable staff. Now, the third generation of the Wright family is active in the business. Wright’s Furniture provides endless variety, carrying product lines from hundreds of manufacturers, plus specialty furniture, accents, and art from local artisans and craftspeople. With over 60,000 square feet of combined showroom and warehouse space, a vast display area is provided, allowing more floor settings to view in search of design ideas. Prices range from low to high and “Apples to Apples,” Wright’s guarantees the lowest price within 250 miles. To further extend their commitment to satisfaction, Wright’s “Satisfy the Customer” policy is unparalleled, allowing the return of items immediately after delivery if not happy with the selected product. Ready to serve with 25 caring employees, Wright’s Furniture is open 7 days a week. Wright’s offers in-house design services, product specialists, special orders, service repair, and free delivery for trips less than 100 miles round trip. The Wright’s welcome you to stop by at 6325 Highway 93 South in Whitefish and explore their unique and interesting selections as so many people have done for three generations. Wright’s Furniture, Montana’s Complete Furniture and Design Retailer since 1976.
Adhering to social distancing guidelines. Appointments Recommended. Capacity is limited. The health & safety of our customers, staff and community continues to be our top priority. 6 3 25 H I G H WAY 93 S O U T H , W H I T E F I S H M T 4 06-862-24 5 5 | wrightsfurniturestore.com
FREE DELIVERY & FREE DESIGN SERVICES
Just a wild mountain rose needing freedom to grow So I ran fearing not where I'd go When a flower grows wild, it can always survive Wildflowers don't care where they grow
ART & DESIGN |
And the flowers I knew in the fields where I grew Were content to be lost in the crowd They were common and close, I had no room for growth And I wanted so much to branch out So I uprooted myself from my homeground and left Took my dreams and I took to the road When a flower grows wild, it can always survive Wildflowers don't care where they grow
wildflowers BY MEGAN CRAWFORD
I grew up fast and wild and I never felt right In a garden so different from me I just never belonged, I just longed to be gone So the garden, one day, set me free I hitched a ride with the wind and since he was my friend I just let him decide where we'd go When a flower grows wild, it can always survive Wildflowers don't care where they grow
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Just a wild rambling rose seeking mysteries untold No regret for the path that I chose When a flower grows wild, it can always survive Wildflowers don't care where they grow
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The hills were alive with wildflowers And I was as wild, even wilder than they For at least I could run, they just died in the sun And I refused to just wither in place. Dolly Parton,
the patron saint of Tennessee, is the inspiration behind this issue’s cross stitch pattern (of course, it only makes sense). I don’t remember when I first heard Wildflowers, but it’s stuck ever since. Between the lyrics and the vocals from Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, and Linda Ronstadt (and therefore the innate feminine power), I was immediately sold. I moved 1,000 miles from home to a place where I didn’t really know anyone. I initially didn’t want to go out of state for college, but I came to the realization that I had to— I needed to experience something different. As an artist, I had already photographed so much of where I lived. That was a given and an easy explanation. But, as a human, I was comfortable. I wanted to stay because it would have been easy. I’d be somewhere familiar, around people I knew— comfortable. Predictable. Low-risk, but low-reward. So I uprooted myself from home ground and left Took my dreams and I took to the road When a flower grows wild, it can always survive Wildflowers don’t care where they grow. I chose Montana after a family vacation to Glacier. On the flight home, my subconscious butted in with a “what if you stayed there? You’re supposed to be there.” I found Montana State University, applied, was accepted two weeks later, and that was that. I’ve lived here for eight years; time now evenly split between Bozeman and the Flathead Valley. There was no other way about it. At some point I’d end up in Montana, and at some point I’d stay.
Before Montana, I briefly wanted to go to UCLA to study Marine Biology. Until I realized that my GPA wasn’t polished enough, I didn’t have enough extracurriculars, I wasn’t on any varsity teams, and math and science are my weakest subjects. I really just wanted to be one of the people who discovered something new in the depths of the ocean. And that’s what was buried under all of that— something new. So I packed my life into a dorm room. Just a wild mountain rose seeking mysteries untold No regret for the path that I chose When a flower grows wild ,it can always survive Wildflowers don’t care where they grow. I have carried this song with me for years, from one journey to the next, like a talisman. Let the refrain roll around my brain again and again, revisit it like an old friend. Pour every piece of the last few years into each small stitch.
The fun thing about this pattern is that it’s easy to switch the colors out to whatever you want. I have a tendency to only work in earth tones, so I stepped out of my default palette for this one. Keep all of the flowers in the same colorway, make each one completely different, stitch it as a reminder for yourself, gift it to a friend— the cloth is yours.
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PATTERN BY MEGAN CRAWFORD
supplies & specs
threads
⩕ DMC embroidery floss, 1 skein per color ⩕ use 2 threads for stitches ⩕ 18 count Aida (14 count will make a 67/8˝ x 67/8˝ piece) ⩕ 6˝ embroidery hoop (8˝ if you use 14 count cloth) ⩕ needle & scissors ⩕ 96 stitches wide x 97 stitches high ⩕ 53/8˝ x 53/8˝ finish size on 18 count cloth Wildflowers stitch PRINT COLORS - Page 2
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WILD FORAGE ISSUE NO. 8
THE GREAT OUTDOORS ISSUE NO. 7
MONTANA WILDFLOWERS ISSUE NO. 6
WOMAN WORK ISSUE NO. 5
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subscribe today montanawoman.com/shop
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| VIGNETTE
Harpies BY AUTUMN TOENNIS
If you must categorize us (if you insist) what if we called flowers as we did birds: a jungle of marigolds a confluence of lilacs an anxiety of peonies a raging of mothers a ferox of women.
IMAGE BY FLORA WESTBROOK mon tan awoman .com | marc h/ap r il 2 02 1
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| LIFE
g n i d n a t S y r T on your Head A LOOK AT A WOMAN BETWEEN THE PAGES OF HISTORY
BY EMILY ADAMIAK
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Born in St. Louis, Missouri in 1924, she has seen her fair share of adventures and has many a story to tell to those willing to sit by her side and listen. At the age of nine, she moved into a home for girls alongside her older sister, Ruth, when their traveling-accountant father passed away and their mother could no longer care for them. Her favorite teenage pastime was sneaking off to the movie theater under the nose of her housemother. In 1944, at the age of twenty and in a country on the eve of war, she enlisted as a pharmacist’s mate in the Navy at the behest of her sister to serve alongside her. Ruth, ironically, changed her mind 34
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after Martha put pen to paper. In the following year, she went on to meet my grandfather, George, and they married in 1946. Five children, one nursing education, and thirty years later, she was living in Saudi Arabia, working as a librarian, and moonlighting as a tap-dancing Sweet Adeline singer. She now resides in her Huntington Beach home like she has the past 60 years, using her hands to create and her mind to inspire. In her 96 years of life, she is still as quickwitted and charming as she ever was. She has accumulated tales that make me smile, cry, guffaw, and everything in between. She says she owes her longevity to the fact that she stands on her head each and every morning. (This is not a fact and cannot be proven. In my personal opinion, I believe she is just a spitfire whose love for life keeps her kicking.) Every word she speaks is a
EMILY AND HER GRANDMA MARTHA
artha May (McGhee) Waters has the most vibrant soul of a human being in the last century. I may be biased, being her granddaughter and all, but hey, I call ‘em like I see ‘em.
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thread in the fabric of her part in history and serves as an integral piece of the creative person I am today. Without our regular bookstore dates and phone chats, this article would never have come to fruition.
simply because their impact only reached their close companions rather than the world at large. And it is through no fault of the ordinary woman. History is a selective path we must walk, and I want to change that narrative in however little I can.
Everyone wants to be remembered. They want to know they will leave a mark on the world, no matter how minuscule.
Her story, like those of many other amazing women, will never reach the pages of the history books. Textbooks provide us details in snapshots: Rosa Parks sat on a bus; Joan of Arc fought a battle; the Suffragettes led a march. But what about the ladies/femmes/ badass thems that are left to fall through the gaps left by time and mainstream consciousness? So many stories are lost over the span of centuries, 36
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Everyone wants to be remembered. They want to know they will leave a mark on the world, no matter how minuscule. There are so many tales that will never breach mainstream consciousness. These fierce ladies who have overcome and experienced so many adventures must not be passed along the river of time until they reach the banks, forgotten. They deserve to have their
stories heard; their tales serve as inspirations for future generations or as hopeful anecdotes to those of us who just want to feel a little closer to our fellow women. I mean, that’s the whole reason we pick up this magazine, right? Whether you are a Montana woman, an out of state Oregonian like me (in my mind, Idaho is just a doorway keeping me from my Montana pals, sorry Idaho), or anywhere that you feel a connection to your fellow gals, your story matters. What you do matters. My grandma is one such figure whose existence will directly affect me for the rest of my days, and hopefully those beyond. She makes me smile full in the face. I wish I could bottle her laugh and save it for any day I need to hear it. She is a protagonist of her own story, and I hope I have done her justice. These words I am leaving you with are selfish. They are my way of adding a remarkable woman to the narrative, hoping that in putting her name
in print, she will be remembered by those far more interesting and accomplished than myself. I am thankful for all of the strong women in my life — one of them owns this very magazine you are holding — for without them and the community they have surrounded me with, I would be adrift with emotions and thoughts and ideas that would have no outlet for expression. Do me a favor: call your grandma or your mother or any loved one today, if you can. Make every day a celebration of women’s history, not just a month. Mark today as a historical event and celebrate it with the monumental ladies in your life. Making a mark on history does not have to be a momentous occasion or achievement. It can be as simple as a good old-fashioned hello. Stay safe, stay sane, and remember — girls run this world. (Oh and Grandma, if you’re reading this… I made sure not to mention a certain someone’s big bosom, large nose, or crooked walk, just like you asked.)
the gift that gives all year. 6 ISSUES | 1 YEAR
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To My Daughter A letter for the history you will make BY KELSEY MERRITT
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| LIFE
Dear Daughter,
This morning I was lying in bed, feeling the unruly cold seeping in from the window. At -24° last night, I was burrowed deep in the covers, with a hand on my belly, protecting you from it too. Finley, our beloved 3-legged Golden Retriever you will soon know so well, was curled up against me, offering us both the heat she had to offer. Now a half-hour past when we get up during the week, I was waiting to feel you moving and kicking as you do so often, stretching your limbs as far as they go, testing to see what mom’s limits are from the inside (and all too soon you’ll be testing them from the outside). My stomach growled—loudly—and slam! There you were against my hand, scared awake by the sound of my empty stomach. I laughed, making you jiggle, where you began to stretch slowly, waking for the day. Finley raised an eye at me, checking to see who was causing noise. We’re just a few steps into the third trimester now— you and me. After a nasty first half of the pregnancy that left me worried for both of our health, your dad and I were finally relieved to hear that you were strong and healthy at your midway ultrasound. I could feel the tension leaving both our bodies after being so tense about your wellbeing for so many months. The nurse dug the ultrasound piece into my abdomen, urging you to move so we could see your sex, as you kicked your legs and squirmed around, making the nurse laugh as she said, “I have never seen a baby move this much during an ultrasound! Ever!” I had been telling your dad for 4 weeks that I felt you moving incessantly. You never stop! And I smiled at your dad as the nurse took a breath, finally confident in saying, “Youuuuu... have a little girl!” I’ll never forget the exclamations your dad and I both made that turned into laughter as he grabbed my hand, smiling all the way to his bright blue eyes (will you have those eyes?) as he said, “Fierce like her mama!” I laughed again before telling the nurse: “There hasn’t been a girl in his side of the family for almost a hundred years!” I grew up surrounded by strong women— and you will too. My grandmothers, mother, aunts, and sisters all played a part in making me the strong, mon tan awoman .com | marc h/ap r il 2 02 1
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stubborn, and kind woman I am. There was a part of me that always knew you would be female. I coached myself over and over to expect a male because of your dad’s family history, but there was a space in my sternum reserved for making the noise you would need to feel loved, supported, and empowered as a woman in our world. Your sex does not determine who you will be, what goals you will make, or what waves you will create once you come forth into this world. But, I have always known that I would fight for you and the limits placed upon our sex for generations and generations— in all the same ways my mom (your grandma) did. I learned to be a mom to your brother in a different way than I am learning to be your mom. When I met him and your dad, there was a hole left in both of their hearts, their lives, their memories, by a different woman. My job became one of healing. To do as millions of women have done before me— to pick up the pieces, tend the wounds, and work to put them together again. Your brother came to me cautiously, but endearingly. He wanted nothing more than to be loved and held and taught to bake cookies and given the space to draw pictures with his wild imagination. But, my work for the last 3 years (now nearly half of his life) has been to show him and tell him, repeatedly, that I will not leave. And that as his mother, I will never leave. Growing you inside me, deep in my womb, at the center of the holy femininity I have always been drawn to (someday I’ll tell you all about the Lady of Guadalupe and the day I felt her
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heartbeat, or the evening I sat watching the desert stretch before me at sunset, feeling her feminine breath tingling in all around me, or the women who came into my life when I needed them most to remind me that I am whole) has taught me to be a different kind of mother. There are so many types and kinds of mothers and I am always learning how to be a better one, a stronger one, a more present one, but you and your fists and kicks and stretches inside me remind me each day how lucky I am in this life to be a mom to both you and your brother. Each day, when I wake, I wait to feel your movements, telling me you are okay. I feel you slamming into my sides, pushing me to see how far I’ll stretch, and I am already so incredibly proud of the female you are. Just weeks ago I watched as the first female Vice President was sworn into office and my chest nearly burst as I texted all your honorary aunts (the friends who have held me): My daughter will be born into a world where our country has a female VP. This world we’re living in now is scary sometimes. And I worry some days about the challenges you will face and the ways I will want to keep you safe, but need to teach you strength. I only hope that you know you can break any parts of the glass ceiling left and I will be here to help you sweep the shards aside, smiling bigger than I ever knew I could: to know that you will be a force in this world we so desperately need. At that inauguration weeks ago, Amanda Gorman (I promise to teach you all her words) told us to keep going, “For there is always light, if only we’re brave enough to see it. If only we’re brave enough to be it.” And, dearest daughter: my biggest hope for you is that you will be brave enough to be that light. I can’t wait to watch you grow. All my love, Your mom.
KELSEY MERRITT lives in Belgrade with her husband and son, where they play scoop ball frequently and yell at their dogs for eating the lawn. She is a photography instructor at MSU and is learning to be kind to herself as a mother.
old clyde park road BY CHLOE NOSTRANT
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| VIGNETTE
I knew this road laid in soft pink dawn. A patchy paved promise of cold dirt beneath leather boots. It climbs above the frozen river and around wind scoured hills. Past horses huddled in barbed wire corners, ranches caught between county lines. Now this road I know in fading light.
IMAGE BY JOSEPH DANIEL
Bathed in dim headlights and Wilsall’s finest bourbon.
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FEATURE |
Candice English
The Farmer's Daughter Fibers BY WHITNEY POLICH IMAGES BY KAITLIN AMERDING
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“Let that shit go, because balance is the unicorn of adulthood," Candice English chuckles while talking about how she manages a growing business, nonprofit foundation, and a family of four. She attributes much of her success in managing multiple full-time pursuits to being intentional and authentic with all aspects of her life. Part of getting to this mindset meant leaving a secure career managing an early education program to pursue what she felt in her heart was the right path. Letting go meant trusting in her Creator, following her heart, and leaning into the natural ebb and flow of life.
C
andice is the owner/operator of The Farmer’s Daughter Fibers and nonprofit foundation, Sisters United, in Great Falls, Montana. She is a farmer’s daughter, and inspiration for the business name came from a Merle Haggard song her cousin used to sing to her when they were younger. She grew up on a ranch between Cut Bank and Browning, split between two cultures that often manage to be as different as they are similar. Her mother is Blackfeet and her dad was a 2nd generation white Montana rancher, which left her caught between two worlds. Growing up, she describes feeling like she didn’t quite fit into either culture. English found relief in the arts and continues to use creative energy as a healing force to help explore and understand her identity and family history.
world all her own. Her early childhood cultivated a feeling of deep connection to the land she still continues to draw inspiration from. “I’m just so in love with the land and I find inspiration in that connection. When I leave and come back, as soon as I cross over the mountains, I feel like I can breathe again.” In 2016, Candice began FDF in the basement laundry room of her home as she started to trust in herself and listen to the voice of her Creator. “My Creator told me I had a different path; I could hear it so clearly and feel it in my heart that it wasn’t even a choice anymore.” She left her career with all the right benefits, salary, and comfort of routine to pursue what she knew in her heart was the right thing to do. With the encouragement and support of her family, she was able to grow a small yarn dying business of 1 into a current network of 11 employees in only four years.
When I leave and
come back, as soon as I cross over the
mountains, I feel like I can breathe again.
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“Life is so short and goes by so quickly that I didn’t want to look back and think I should have done this or that. I had to take that first step, ask
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Good things are bound to come from good intentions, and you get what you put into your work. Candice English
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myself, what’s the worst that’s going to happen? You might fail, but so what? From then on, I had made my mind up and there was no looking back.” Letting go of societal boundaries about what a J.O.B. should be and should have can be incredibly frightening, especially in our current economy. But, English encourages others to embrace risk instead of the fear of failure because you need to be honest with yourself and honor who you are. A self-proclaimed dabbler who enjoys all things creative, Candice admits she has a hard time staying with the same routine. She feels her penchant for change has been her strongest asset by providing her both the courage and freedom to follow her intuition while investigating, exploring, and experimenting with new ideas until she is ready to pass the torch. Very early on, she realized how easy it was to become overwhelmed with opportunities and had to quickly refine her decision-making process. With her brother’s suggestion, she now asks herself two questions before pursuing any project: first, is it going to make you money, and secondly, are you having fun while you’re doing it? “I always have to do things I’m not 100% stoked about, but those decisions
usually create the financial freedom and space to do more creative projects with less monetary returns. Business tends to ebb and flow like that and I’ve had to figure out how to do all the little things I need to do to make the big stuff happen.” Finding the flow has enabled English to grow a new business during one of the most difficult small business times in our history. Outreach and creating a nationwide base were critical for FDF’s quick growth during the time of a pandemic. “Those early years were insane; I was working so much and always traveling somewhere, that I just don’t know how I even did it.” A booth at the Montana MADE fair in Missoula led to a larger opportunity at a fiber show in Oregon, and from there, business boomed. The internet and social media were critical platforms as nationwide shutdowns became a larger issue and helped FDF reach a broader wholesale market. During 2020, when many businesses were closing their doors, FDF was outgrowing their 4,000 square foot dye and showroom space and expanding into a second brick and mortar location in downtown Great Falls. “People were mon tan awoman .com | marc h/ap r il 2 02 1
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stuck at home and looking for things to do. I’ve received so much feedback on how working with our yarn has helped heal different kinds of trauma by providing a creative outlet. FDF really took off during a time when we were witnessing the role of arts in healing.” Throughout FDF’s rapid growth, Candice was already exploring other areas of her community where healing was needed. In 2017, Candice was deeply affected by the disappearances of Ashley Loring Heavy Runner on the Blackfeet Nation, and soon after, in 2018, Jermaine Charlo in Missoula. Both women still remain missing, but their cases have helped bring to light an epidemic affecting Indigenous women across the country. English became active in the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women movement in January of 2019 and has since been focusing on offering help through her recently founded nonprofit, Sisters United. Sisters United began with 40 skeins of donated yarn from FDF and 40 tea bags from English’s mother for dye. English set out to work dying at a grassroots level and was able to sell all 40 skeins in half an hour, raising $1,500. These proceeds were donated to the YWCA, an organization serving domestic violence in the area, and English committed to keep up with the monthly donation.
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“Healing and empowerment is really our mission here at Sisters United.” The goal over the next year is to expand programming, especially for younger people. The most current focus is on building the Sovereign Art Scholarship, which is available to any Indigenous person between the ages of 8-21. By providing access to high-quality art materials, Sisters United hopes to “promote open-ended artwork for kids to explore their own ideas and experiment with materials. Art is such a powerful tool for healing, and we really want to encourage opportunities that empower makers to address trauma.” The only requirement for scholarship recipients is one donated artwork provided to the foundation for auction, with all proceeds going back into the scholarship fund.
Art is such a powerful tool for healing, and we really want to encourage opportunities that empower makers to address trauma.
At this point, the need for support and advocacy became glaringly obvious to English, and she joined the North Central Montana Human Trafficking Taskforce to learn more about what was happening and where help was needed. In January of 2020, as she was awaiting paperwork for 501c3 status to come through, another Indigenous woman, 16-year-old Selena Not Afraid, went missing in Billings. Sisters United was contacted by the newly created State Task Force for financial assistance and was able to provide hotel rooms for dog search teams, cellphones, and laptops. The need for support 52
was so eye-opening to Candice that for the rest of the year, she focused on raising and saving enough money to hire a full-time director for Sisters United.
In addition to the art scholarship, Sisters United also provides Healing Bundles to Indigenous women in need that include traditional medicines, journals, sweetgrass, teas, and educational resources that connect women to other victim-services around the state. “If survivors are able to heal, we believe they have the ability to grow stronger for not only their families but also their community.”
Looking towards the future, Candice wants to focus on taking a step back and taking care of herself and the people around here. “2020 was such a wacky year, that I’m looking forward to settling into what we have, nurturing a sense of community, both locally and virtually, and making FDF a destination yarn shop.” Plans for the new storefront include more community events, knittogethers, and promotion as a space for makers to come and actually make. There are several cozy areas both at the front and the back of the shop for makers to sit with
| FEATURE
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others, create, and share their stories with one another. FDF has more than just yarn with a range of fiber offerings that include fabrics, roving, patterns, and create kits. Most products are sourced from women-run businesses across the country, and English is focused on increasing Native representation. Candice’s dedication to building her community rings true in the authentic nature of her entrepreneurial mindset. “Good things are bound to come from good intentions, and you get what you put into your work.” Her story is an inspiration for so many who feel a calling to do something other than the status quo, and her profound compassion for others helps to nurture interconnectedness.
WHITNEY POLICH is an artist living near
the Sun River Valley in Central Montana and currently teaches art at Simms High School. Growing up on a farm four generations deep has rooted her art practice in the land and its
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relationship to people. Her multimedia works explore these connections through drawing, sculpture, photography, video, and sound. Find more information and see her work at whitneypolich.com.
IMAGES BY KAITLIN AMERDING | K&C PHOTOGRAPHY @KCPHOTOMT KCPHOTOMONTANA.COM INFO@KCPHOTOMT.COM
FARMER'S DAUGHTER FIBERS 320 CENTRAL AVE, GREAT FALLS
THEFARMERSDAUGHTERFIBERS.COM @ THEFARMERSDAUGHTERFIBERS
WISDOM WORKSHOP community / sustainability / longevity
406.407.2054 | wisdomworkshopmt.com
homes.cabins.saunas.studios.villages handcrafted in northwest Montana
about sisters united Sisters United is a Montana organization whose mission is to empower Indigenous Women, Children, and Communities. To empower Indigenous communities, healing is at the forefront. We heal through art, connecting with the land and our creator, focusing on healthy lifestyles, and educating people on the history of Indigenous people in our country. Sisters United is dedicated to maintaining at a grassroots level, maintaining flexibility as we seek change.
how you can support Sisters United is funded through donations by the community! You can support Sisters United through a tax deductible donation. Whether it is $5 or $500, we appreciate your commitment to empowering Indigenous communities. You can also support by sharing our organization on social media, with your friends and family, or by holding community fundraisers. If you are a knitter, we have a growing library of knitting patterns that all directly benefit Sisters United on our website.
Please donate online using a credit card or paypal or sending a check to 320 Central Ave, Great Falls Montana 59401. All donations are tax deductible as we are a 501(c)3 organization.
sistersunitedmt.org @Sistersunitedmt
ART & DESIGN |
ABOUT THE HAT: FARMER’S DAUGHTER FIBERS RECOLLECT YARN, EAGLE EYE.
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KNITTING A
droplet hat WITH STIX YARN | FEATURING FARMER'S DAUGHTER FIBERS IMAGES BY MEGAN CRAWFORD
Delicate little droplets bead along each rib of this stretchy, comfortable hat. The pattern is easy to memorize and fun to make. It’s adorable with a pom pom, or leave the top bare to see the ribs swirl together.
materials & sizing YARN
Farmer’s Daughter Fibers Recollect (100% Montana and Wyoming-raised Rambouillet wool; 185 yds [169m]/ 2 oz [56 gm]): 2 balls. We used the Eagle Eye colorway.
SIZE
One size fits many adults Approximately 18” (46cm) in circumference, unstretched.
GAUGE
27.5 stitchess and 28 rounds = 4” (10cm) in Droplet Rib on larger needles, after blocking.
NEEDLES & NOTIONS
US size 3 (3mm) and US size 4 (3.5mm) 16” (40cm) circular needles. US size 4 (3.5mm) DPNs. Stitch markers; tapestry needle.
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stitch guide ABBREVIATIONS
BOR: beginning of round K: knit K1TBL: knit one stitch through the back loop P: purl PM: place marker P3TOG: insert right needle tip in the next 3 stitches and purl them together (2 sts decreased) SK2P: slip the next two stitches purl wise, one at a time to the right needle tip. Knit the next stitch. Pass the 2 slipped stitches over the knit stitch. (2 stitches decreased) SM: slip marker ST(S): stitch(es) TUCK INC: Insert right needle tip into stitch one round below next stitch on left hand needle, and (k1, yo, k1) in that stitch (dropping and unraveling the stitch above it), increasing to 3 stitches. YO: yarn over
DROPLET RIB
ROUNDS 1 AND 2: (p2, k1, p2, k1) around. ROUND 3: (p2, tuck inc, p2, k1) around. ROUND 4: (p2, k3, p2, k1) around. ROUND 5: (p2, sk2p, p2, k1) around. ROUNDS 6-8: (p2, k1, p2, k1) around. ROUND 9: (p2, k1, p2, tuck inc) around. ROUND 10: (p2, k1, p2, k3) around. ROUND 11: (p2, k1, p2, sk2p) around. ROUND 12: (p2, k1, p2, k1) around.
Repeat Rounds 1-12 for pattern.
BRIM
With smaller circular needles, cast on 126 sts. Pm and join to knit in the round. ROUND 1: (p2, k1tbl) around. Repeat Round one until brim measures 1.5” (3.8cm).
HAT BODY
Switch to larger needles and begin working in Droplet Rib (see Stitch Guide). Work rounds 1-12 of Droplet Rib 4 times total (if a slouchier hat is desired, you may work one more repeat of the pattern here). On the final Round 12, complete the round, remove marker, slip one stitch from right needle to left, replace marker on right needle tip, slip stitch back to right needle tip. This is your new beginning of round. Please note that this will shift where you begin your repeat. For instance, Round 1 will now read (k1, p2, k1, p2). You should have a good feel for where your knits and purls lie now, just read your work to maintain your ribbing and all will be well. For the decrease section, you will be placing 2 more markers and decreasing at 3 points around the hat. Decreases are worked every round, 3 sts before each marker. If a decrease lands in the middle of one of the 3 sts increased from a tuck stitch, just treat each part of the tuck as its own stitch. For instance, your p3tog could land over the second and third of the tuck and also include the purl on the other side of the tuck, and that’s just fine, purl them together. After a decrease has been worked at the marker, slip the marker and resume working a new repeat of the round you are currently working (the stitch after the marker will always be a knit stitch and the first stitch of a new repeat).
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stitch guide ABBREVIATIONS
BOR: beginning of round K: knit K1TBL: knit one stitch through the back loop P: purl PM: place marker P3TOG: insert right needle tip in the next 3 stitches and purl them together (2 sts decreased) SK2P: slip the next two stitches purl wise, one at a time to the right needle tip. Knit the next stitch. Pass the 2 slipped stitches over the knit stitch. (2 stitches decreased) SM: slip marker ST(S): stitch(es) TUCK INC: Insert right needle tip into stitch one round below next stitch on left hand needle, and (k1, yo, k1) in that stitch (dropping and unraveling the stitch above it), increasing to 3 stitches. YO: yarn over
CROWN DECREASES
Set up round (Round 1 of Droplet Rib): (Work 42 sts in Droplet Rib, PM) twice, work to end of round. You now have 3 total markers placed including the BOR marker. Decrease Round: Maintaining the correct round sequence in Droplet Rib, *work to 3 sts before the marker, p3tog, SM; rep from * around. Repeat Decrease Round EVERY round until you have 24 total sts rem (8 sts per marked section). Break yarn and use tapestry needle to weave the tail through the rem sts. Pull tail through to the inside of the hat and knot to secure. Weave in all ends and gently block the hat. Take care not to stretch the ribbing, and pay extra attention to the decrease section; it will benefit from a little tugging and smoothing while it is wet. Top with a pom pom if desired.
in a waking dream — hands long for a silver embrace
third hand silversmith
thirdhandsilversmith.com @thirdhandsilversmith
WORDS BY CHLOE NOSTRANT
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the
Leave No Trace
™
Seven Principles
1. Plan ahead and prepare 2. Travel & camp on durable surfaces 3. Dispose of waste properly 4. Leave what you find 5. Minimize campfire impacts 6. Respect wildlife 7. Be considerate of other visitors IMAGE BY JOSH HILD
© 1999 by the Leave No Trace Center for Outdoor Ethics: www.LNT.org.
LIFE |
I MISS BY BARBARA FRASER
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This morning a thought came to the borders of my mind and I let it in: My youth was spent thinking that Pluto was a planet, and I have since refused to acknowledge that this fact is no longer accurate. I figure Pluto needs my support.
This is what tumbled in after: I grew up when you could only look to Encyclopedias for random information, and now some people (lots of people) don’t even know what they are, much less own a set bought from a man who came to your door. Music came from the phonograph, radio, and turntable, not little boxes we could hold in our hand or tuck in our pocket. I actually love them all. A birthday only included a cake often made from scratch, guests who brought gifts, perhaps paper streamers and hats, then a ritual song that included only your name, and the strongest goal and expectation was to blow out every single candle with one attempt that probably included a little spit. Now the thought makes people cringe, and we often eat our cake alone.
IMAGE BY RAFAEL CERQUEIRA
I was taught to say please and thank you and would get in trouble if I didn’t. I decided long ago, right before it went out of style, to continue the practice at every opportunity because it made me happy, and it made others happy too. I watched television shows on a screen in a box the size of our stovetop, with everyone sitting in the same room, even on the same big sofa— or in my husband’s family, the Davenport.
I miss the Fuller Brush man who knocked on my door every few months and who gave me a free gift. I usually bought something if I could because I loved his gumption and wanted to help him out like I hoped someone would help me when I was old and gray and knocking on their door. Now I wonder if he just retired or passed away or got sick of the snow and moved to Arizona with his sweet little wife. I still own jars of pencils and a pencil sharpener attached to my doorframe that has now become a novelty to others, but I will consider it a lifelong essential. Sometimes I miss the T.V. Guide with the perfect picture taken by an amazing photographer I had never heard of. I was excited when the week was over and I could grab it and stash it in the trunk at the end of my bed and look at it anytime I wanted to— that’s if it hadn’t gotten destroyed in seven days. Now after almost a year, I miss people’s mouths; who would have known that this would be a thing. And hugs— every single hug I didn’t give or receive.
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VIGNETTE |
Wild Wisdoms BY SYDNEY MUNTEANU
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IMAGE BY HANS HAMANN
Sometimes I think The mountains can whisper, The wind will sweep through with stories, The stars might illuminate a world Lived by women— All our women Who’ve gone before. Our ancient sisters, Our spirits of souls, With the pages of life To share From each other And the great Mother, Transmuted Through her daughters Whose playground Is trees And rivers, Stones, and pebbles, and rocks; Flurried snowflakes , Misty fog, Little baby meadow daisies, And wild, wild wildflowers Basking in the summer heat, Dancing with the sun. I’ll sometimes wander their playground Wishing, Quietly whispering— Actually, Willing with all my might. Come tell me. I want to know the secrets, too.
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LIFE |
BY STEPHANIE EVANS
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W
omen in our history, our own personal history— their stories have helped shape who we are. Their stories add crucial ingredients that make up our personalities and how we make our way in the world.
Who do you come from? Where is that accent from? Why do you use the phrases you do? Where did you get your sense of humor? Take a few moments with these questions and notice who comes to mind. It only took me a couple moments to conjure up the images, the scent, and the laughter of the women that helped shape me, my women in history. A few stories kept circling in my heart, and I realized that these stories could easily be told of me.
My Great Grandma Anna was an immigrant from Norway. She was the mother of seven children and had a quick wit with a tremendous amount of grit. She made her way across the Atlantic alone at the age of 17 and endured her relationship with her “Heinz 57” husband Charlie, who had a love of the drink. Charlie was a handsome and charismatic man with a sparkle in his eyes. They (she) raised their children during the Great Depression. Charlie left this World earlier than grandma did, and when grandma Beers moved into the nursing home in her 90s, she brought her plants with her. African violets were her pride and joy— she placed them lovingly in the south-facing window in the hallway of the home. She tended to them daily; they seemed to keep up her spirits. One day, she noticed the violets were having a hard time adjusting to their new home. The wilting leaves kept her up at night, and she found herself sitting quietly in the dark hallway at night gazing out the window… It was a night like this that grandma heard a noise in the dark hallway— it was a shuffling sound, a stop and then the sound of water dripping… she sat quietly until the water stopped and realized as the shuffling started up again. As her eyes adjusted, she realized it was that crazy old man from down the hall that talked to himself ! He was pissing in her violets! That explained everything! She quickly went to work, rearranging her precious plants with a mischievous grin upon her face, quietly talking in the old language (Norwegian).
The next night, grandma took her place in the dark hallway. She patiently waited for the shuffle to start and stop and then listened for what came next… a loud groan and even louder cursing in another old language. The lights came on, the nurses came running, and what they found was that old man with his pants down. His hand and penis entangled with a sweet little Teddy Bear Cactus. Grandma stood from her perch in the corner, nodded at that old man, and made her way back to her room giggling in the old language, for she had met her new favorite plant.
My Grandma Rose was the mother of my father. I remember as a child, Grandma Rose had a beautiful blue car that my dad bought for her. There was always talk of Grandma’s lead foot amongst her kids, that she was going to kill somebody someday. I remember one day in particular: I was in the back seat of grandma’s speedy car when we came across my dad walking home from work— my dad was legally blind and didn’t hold a license to drive (this may have been the reason for grandma’s fancy car). Grandma stopped abruptly, slamming on the brakes, sending me flying into the back of the seat— it was the 70s, we didn’t need seatbelts— I heard my dad saying, “Jesus Christ, Ma! Slow down! Steph’s in the back seat! mon tan awoman .com | marc h/ap r il 2 02 1
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You’re going to kill someone one of these days!” My window was rolled down in the back about halfway. Dad bent down and put his head in the window to give me a kiss, and as he was coming back out, grandma put the pedal to the metal and screeched away, leaving my dad behind cussing! I heard grandma giggling and talking to herself in the old language (a German/Russian hybrid) as we made our way to pick up my cousin…
Grandma Esther was the daughter of Great Grandma Anna. I remember Grandma Esther so clearly— she always provided a space for my imagination. There were tea parties with wonder bread and cheese whiz sandwiches with tang tea served on plastic elephant plates wee enough for the smallest of hands. She never let me get away with saying the word “fart” and encouraged the Lord’s Prayer and wiping from front to back.
I experience deep gratitude and comfort that these quirks, traits, and traditions have been passed down to me by such strong, eclectic women and that I, too, have been a part of the history of our family.
She also was known for indulging in a Coors beer in the morning, sipping it out of a Fire King coffee mug that I covet to this day. My sister likes to tell the story of her blowing on her “coffee” one morning only to blow the foam of her beer onto her pancakes. There was a giggle and a curse in the old language passed down from her Ma, the only Norwegian she (and now I) knew other than thank you. “Don’t tell your Grandpa” she said, with a twinkle in her hazel eyes. Oh, that twinkle— I miss it so.
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My mom Diane— I can hear her laughter just by saying her name. I always tease her that the chemicals the farmers sprayed on the soybean and corn fields in Iowa affected her sense of humor! She and her siblings chased each other around (as adults!), laughing like banshees at some obscene gesture or joke one of them had told through the yard of their childhood home. The laughter would echo throughout the pecan trees all the way to their elementary school. I remember most, though, her garden and the care she gave to the food she grew for our family. The amount of compulsive baking and cooking that went on in my childhood could have fed the entire community! She worked her ass off weeding, harvesting, and canning those fruits and veggies for our family. I know now that was her self care and therapy. She still has the most amazing garden. I am thankful I was raised by my redneck hippie Momma in the way that I was.
I am thankful to all of these amazing women and the quirks they have passed down to me, which I have passed down to my children. I realize that the dark humor, the love of plants and gardens, the day drinking, the lead foot, and the compulsive nervous cooking has made me who I am today. I use these quirky traits to get me through difficult times and beautiful, happy days. Nervous cooking, laughing like a banshee as I speed down a dirt road, fishtailing on the washboard while the vision of my mom and aunties chasing each other enters my mind creating even more laughter. I finally come home to a glass of wine in my Grandma Esther’s Fire King orange coffee mug as I tend to my succulents and African violets that sit in my south-facing window. I experience deep gratitude and comfort that these quirks, traits,
and traditions have been passed down to me by such strong, eclectic women and that I, too, have been a part of the history of our family.
“For I am in you, you are in me. Will you stay with me even when I forget your name? Why yes, yes, I will.” STEPHANIE EVANS is a lover of nature, ceremony, movement and adventure. She is the mother of four magical spirits, Writer, Ceremony Officiant, Yoga Instructor and Retreat Leader. She was born in Montana with the spirit of a fairy, the mouth of a sailor and the heart of a hippie. She learned early in childhood that Mother Nature and expression with movement and words were three vital ingredients to a beautiful life. The ability to release tensions, aggressions, anxiety and fear while in nature is a tonic. She would like to share with all who walk into her path how to open their senses to all the magic that surrounds us in this beautiful state and to extend it into their life. Body, mind and spirit.
SINCE OCTOBER 2019, MONTANA WOMAN HAS BEEN, AND ALWAYS WILL BE, AN OPEN PLATFORM. THIS IS A PUBLICATION FOR THE REAL, COME-AS-YOU-ARE MONTANA. THE UNDERCURRENTS, THE CHANGE-MAKERS, THE RISK-TAKERS, THE MOVERS & SHAKERS.
YOU DO NOT NEED TO CHANGE WHO YOU ARE TO HAVE A SEAT AT THE TABLE. NO MATTER YOUR AGE, YOUR RACE, YOUR HOMETOWN, YOUR IDENTITY— YOU ARE WELCOME HERE.
MONTANA IS FOR ALL OF US, FOR EVERYONE. WHETHER YOU WERE BORN & RAISED HERE, YOU MOVED HERE, YOU VISITED, OR YOU DREAM OF VISITING.
WE CREATE A PUBLICATION THAT’S WORTH READING BECAUSE WE ALL HAVE STORIES WORTH TELLING.
WELCOME TO THE TABLE.
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| VIGNETTE
a strong woman BY MORGAN HOLCOMB
To have a mother who waited, Who lived a million lives and lifetimes In three different countries before You were even a thought Who glowed and shimmered in Glittering cities of lights Next to history, Alone Strong And with a heart broken in every possible way That she became relentlessly optimistic And detached And smart And who gave you a man’s name so no one could See your resume and throw you out just for being a woman Who wanders through languages Interests and passions And life like Warm Mediterranean water Always one foot in One foot out Because she comes from a line of women Who ran businesses And made dresses for Ladies In Waiting Who fled, alone, with their families when Their husbands were killed in the streets for being the wrong kind of German And sons could go missing in South American cities All of these women, Were with her And they gave her daughters
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LIFE |
a story with a happy ending told in honor of all the women who lost their lives to pregnancy and childbirth BY SARAH HARDING 74
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great-grandmother Virginia lived to be 99, her last few decades alone in her housedress with her huge backyard vegetable garden. Her very best friend lived across the way. When their street became too dangerous to cross, they would sit in their front windows and chat on the phone, waving and laughing through the glass. Virginia Whittaker died in 1991— she was born in 1901. She rode her horse to school and graduated in fourth grade to raise her siblings after her mother died in childbirth. She married at 16 to become a farm wife and mother to thirteen children, burying even more. In her time, I wouldn’t have lived to see the birth of my second child. Pregnancy and childbirth could be deadly for women for most of history. Even into the 1920s, my condition would have been a death sentence. How many of us wouldn’t be alive today without modern medicine?
IMAGE BY ANNA SHVETS
When I was 30 years old, I climbed into bed after a pretty average spring day: chasing our toddler around and getting too excited about planting our garden. From one second to the next, as I turned out the light, I went from feeling fine to horribly ill. I made it to the bathroom in time. My concerned husband, John, followed to check on me. He travels for work, so it was fortunate he was there to watch me have a seizure on the bathroom floor. In a scared voice, he said, “if you do that again, I’m calling 911.” I tried to stand up, reassuring him I was okay, and again fell to the tiles in a seizure. I stayed down that time while he called 911. When the paramedics arrived, lord knows what they thought of me in my pajamas, very pale, sitting against the bathroom wall, the bathtub filled with vomit, a two year old asleep in the other room, a freaked-out husband as their contact. I was 9 weeks pregnant. “but here is an accident which may happen to any wife in the most useful period of her existence, which good authorities have said is never cured, and for which, even in this age when science and art boast of such high attainments, no remedy, either medical or surgical, has been tried with a single success. In this accident, if in any, there is certain death.” —EA SCHUMANN, 1921
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Because I couldn’t stand, the paramedics strapped me to a gurney and maneuvered me down our stairs. Little did I know, it would be many weeks before I would be able to make it back up those stairs. As they loaded me into the ambulance, I sat up and begged John not to let them take me. “I don’t want to go to the hospital for the flu!” “If the egg be too big, or if the diameter of the tuba fallopiana is too small, the egg stops and can get no farther, but shoots forth and takes root there; and ... occasions the death of the mothers by breaking open its prison.” — PIERRE DIONIS, 1718 (SCHUMANN, EA. EXTRA-UTERINE PREGNANCY (1921) D. APPLETON AND COMPANY)
My memories start to get unclear and sporadic once I was in the emergency room. I do remember the moment an ER nurse pressed on my abdomen. I flailed and gasped and nearly jumped off the table. We didn’t know what anything meant, only that I was getting weaker quickly. We waited for the ultrasound tech. I also remember that room. I was starting to freeze. The heated blankets they piled on me had no effect. The ultrasound revealed that my abdomen cavity was filled with blood. A surgeon was called, and while he rushed over, he instructed them to put velcro pants on me, pants that squeezed so tight, forcing my remaining blood to keep my heart pumping and my brain alive. At this point, feeling apathetic and cold, I asked, “Am I dying?” John reassured me. The nurse turned away and did not answer.
my bathtub. Friends, that is love. Another neighbor came and camped out on our couch for the night to babysit. Baby Alma, sometime in the middle of the night, toddled out in her footed PJs to see Glenn watching some BBC re-run. With her wild curls and sleepy voice, she simply said, “what are you doing here?” Then returned to bed. John tells me of the moments after the surgeon arrived, how an ER nurse was trying to take my vitals, and the doctor told her there was no time for that, snatched my gurney, and took off with me down the hall. I remember the lights fleeing overhead, the doctor leaning over talking to me, and then in the surgery room, the anesthesiologist telling me to count backward. Instead of numbers, I chanted internally, “I love you, I trust you.” “From the middle of the eleventh century, when Albucasis described the first known case of extrauterine pregnancy, men have doubtless watched the life ebb rapidly from the pale victim of this accident, as the torrent of blood is poured into the abdominal cavity, but have never raised a hand to help her. Surely this is an anomaly, and it has no parallel in the whole history of human injuries.”
I may not live to be 99 like my greatgrandmother Virginia, but I lived beyond 30, unlike my great-greatgrandmother.
“when one is called to a case of the kind, it is his duty to look upon his unhappy patient as inevitably doomed to die, unless he can by some active measures wrest her from the grave already yawning before her.” Hours have now gone by since we left our little home. Even while waiting for the medics, John called our neighbors. Trish came right away, watched me leave in the ambulance, then cleaned 76
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As in my case, when an egg is fertilized in the fallopian tube instead of the uterus and begins to grow (an ectopic pregnancy), the fertilized egg has no room and eventually ruptures the tube, causing internal bleeding and, until recent times, nearcertain death. My ruptured tubal pregnancy caused my body cavity to become so filled with blood, I needed 3 transfusions. The human body only holds 4.5-5.5 liters. Being thirty years old: active, healthy, and inexperienced with recuperating, my physical and mental recovery took much longer than I anticipated. I thought I’d be back to working out the next week. Yes, I’d lived, something friends and family reminded me of often. But the painkillers, physical weakness, and mental anguish of losing that baby wasn’t something I was prepared for. An abdomen filled with blood aches. A body deprived of blood is weak. So is a
heart after losing its future with that child. Again, Trish came to our rescue, loaning us a futon to set up downstairs by the woodstove. I was still too weak to walk up the stairs to our living area, kitchen, and bedrooms. John, traumatized by the experience, didn’t want to leave me alone and recruited friends to come over and Sarah-sit when he needed to leave for even an hour. “The first American operation for ruptured ectopic pregnancy was performed in October 1883 by Dr. Charles K. Briddon of New York. The patient was a woman of twenty-eight, who had borne two children, the last one thirteen months before her present illness. She developed the signs of a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, and Dr. Briddon made a diagnosis and proved its correctness by performing laparotomy and removing the fetus and the ruptured tube. The patient rallied and for a time did well, but at the end of forty-seven hours succumbed to shock.”
REFERENCES Schumann EA. Extra-uterine pregnancy (1921) D. Appleton And Company. New York, London 1921.
SARAH HARDING grew up in North County San Diego. She spent her childhood surfing and loving the ocean. She and her husband, John, moved to Montana when they were 22 and spent the second half of their lives farming and raising a family. Sarah and her family live on their tiny homemade farm in Whitefish.
IMAGE BY CAITLYN REYES
Mine is a happy ending. I don’t have any deep wisdom or brilliant insight to share except
the observation that we can live when our grandmothers would have died. We can go on to be amazed at the world, at the power of our bodies, and at our daughters and sons. I may not live to be 99 like my great-grandmother Virginia, but I lived beyond 30, unlike my greatgreat-grandmother. I can still call Trish, and Glenn, and laugh and chat and wave to them across the street.
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THIS COULD BE YOU!
backcountry weddings for the WILDLY in love
For soon-to-be-married couples who feel constrained by the trappings of a traditional wedding, an adventure elopement is the next best thing you never knew existed. From sunrise mountain top summits and helicopter rides on glaciers to casual strolls through the woods and chill days on the lake, we’ll work together to craft a wedding day that truly speaks to your soul and incorporates what you love most — the outdoors and each other.
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LIFE |
BY NICOLE DUNN
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IMAGE BY NINE KOEPFER
HOW WE MAKE PROGRESS
Y
ou know how one day your friend mentions that they’ll be going on a trip to the rocky coast of Maine, and then you suddenly find yourself surrounded by random references to the state of Maine for the next week? Or your son starts doing a school report on hot air balloons, and the next day as you walk by the office of a co-worker, you notice that the screensaver on their computer is a picture of hot air balloons? Well, it’s been a bit like this for me in regards to the presence of toxic patriarchy in my life. I went from not thinking much about it to now seeing it everywhere I go.
displaying attitudes, languaging, and behaviors that stem from the wellspring of toxic patriarchy.
It seems overly simplistic to say I was caught in the age-old swirl of we can’t know what we don’t know, but that’s really what it comes down to.
But aye, here comes the rub. Now that my lens has changed, I am starting to see all of the subtle, covert, under-the-radar ways that toxic patriarchy presents itself. So it’s a yes and situation. Yes, we’ve made societal progress and yes, we still have a long way to go.
This lens of toxic patriarchy is a newer one for me (and notice I am intentionally coupling the word patriarchy with the word toxic, as I think it’s important to discern a difference between patriarchy and toxic patriarchy; I mean, just because a dude is in charge of a household or a larger organizational structure doesn’t mean it’s automatically a bad thing, there are a lot of great male leaders in the world). It’s only been in the last 2 years that I’ve started seeing how it has— and continues— to shape my life. And I am 41-yearsold. I know what some of you are thinking: Where have you been?! What can I say. I’m late to the party, but I’m here now and that’s what matters. I also think that my lateness to the party might be a sign of cultural progress. By which I mean, I’ve never had what I would consider to be a direct overt personal experience of powerover domination by a male figure. Not long ago, overt acts of toxic patriarchy would’ve not only been commonplace, but they would’ve been collectively acceptable and even celebrated (at least within groupings of men). This isn’t to say these overt acts don’t still take place. Of course they do. But there has been a cultural shift that I think is worthy of acknowledging. These overt acts have become much less the norm, and our mainstream society is much less apathetic about
I am deeply aware that the progress made and the life that I have been fortunate to lead, in this regard, is due to the immense amount of work done by an extremely long line and planetwide circle of women. I am the beneficiary of privileges that I will never fully be able to appreciate, given how good I’ve had things. I mean, really. I was even able to join the boys wrestling team in middle school in the suburbs of Philly without even so much as a Let us think about it and get back to you.
Yes, we’ve made societal progress and yes, we still have a long way to go.
The challenge for me now, and what I am actively working on, is finding balance. Balance between being totally tuned out to how toxic patriarchy shows up in my life— and in the lives of others— and ramping myself up in a groundswell of moral outrage. Because now that I have started seeing the covert ways in which toxic patriarchy manifests, I find myself getting overheated really quickly when I encounter it. Here’s a recent example. A few months ago, I was outside sweeping leaves away from my doorstep on a windy day. My nextdoor neighbor— a man who I would consider to be somewhere in between an acquaintance and a friend (maybe a friendly acquaintance?)— strolled by and proceeded to give me a hard time about sweeping leaves while the wind was blowing, as though perhaps he thought I didn’t know what I was doing. The smartass in me wanted to shoot back: Oh thank heaven you came along to rescue me from my poorly made decision to sweep my own front porch!! I had nooo idea it was windy out! Is that what this whole moving air thing is called? But I am really not interested in being that kind of girl. Instead, I managed not to let my mon tan awoman .com | marc h/ap r il 2 02 1
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anger and self-righteous attitude run the show and said, firmly and lightheartedly: Leave the girl to her sweeping, she knows what she’s doing. For me, it felt like good progress.
NICOLE DUNN a Missoula based writer, spoken
word artist, poet, ordained member of Thich Nhat Hanh’s Order of Interbeing, and program director of Be Here Now, a weekly mindfulness & meditation group she founded in 2002. For more info: InMindfulMotion.com
IMAGE BY DAVE HERRING
Now that my lens has changed, I am finding that I am confronted with these small microaggressions from male people in my life on the regular. And it’s tricky stuff because some of the time, it may have nothing to do with the fact that I am female and they are male, as they might treat other males the same way. But it’s impossible to know because it’s impossible to separate out the effects of toxic patriarchy from our interactions with one another, based on how deeply entrenched it is in our culture, across the world, and throughout our history as humans.
What I do know is this: Untangling and dismantling toxic patriarchy is the work of all of us. Whether we are trans-female, trans-male, non-binary, cis-female, or cis-male, we are all in this together, and we all have a part to play in addressing the negative impacts created by toxic patriarchy. So, in honor and celebration of Women’s History Month, let us move forward with courage in the direction of continuing the work that was started for us, under great duress and struggle, so long ago.
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Questions about broken wrists? Dr. Shors has answers. How can I tell if my wrist is broken or just sprained? It can be difficult to tell whether a wrist is broken or sprained and the only definitive method is an xray of the wrist. However, if there is obvious deformity to the wrist, or you can’t not move it at all, you should go to the emergency room immediately. If there is severe bruising or swelling, point tenderness, and significant pain that is lasting more than a day then it is a good idea to get an xray and see a physician.
What happens if a wrist fracture is left untreated? If a hand surgeon sees a patient right after a wrist is fractured, we usually can achieve an excellent result for the patient and often the treatment only requires a cast or brace. If the patient leaves the fracture untreated, it can heal in a malformed position and cause permanent pain and lack of function. In certain fractures, the bones can not heal when not immobilized and the patient ends up with a condition called a “non-union” which is a much more Heidi Shors, MD Orthopedics
difficult condition to treat and can lead to worse outcomes.
Does a broken wrist always require surgery? Certainly not. Most often a wrist fracture requires a cast for about 4-6 weeks. The majority of strength of the bone is obtained by 12 weeks after the fracture, but many people can get back to activities sooner than that. Only a small percentage of wrist fractures need surgery because the bone is too out of place to heal correctly in a cast.
What made you decide to pursue orthopedics? My interest in orthopedics was sparked through sports and particularly when I played basketball in college and many of my teammates had orthopedic injuries requiring surgery. My father was an emergency room physician and his stories of work always intrigued me. The combination of observing my fathers career and then living some of these injuries myself and through teammates pushed me to pursue a career in orthopedics. During my residency, I then became interested in studying the hand and elbow specifically.
For more information, call (406) 752-5170 or visit krh.org/orthopedics.
KALISPELL REGIONAL HEALTHCARE
WELLNESS |
GRACE & GRIT
and How It Applies to Women’s Wellness Landscape
BY MINDY COCHRAN | LEVITATION NATION IMAGES BY KIRALEE JONES PHOTOGRAPHY
Each spring, as we celebrate Women’s History Month, Montana Woman Magazine honors influential women of the past, present, and future. As a health and fitness columnist for the magazine, I am called to highlight women who are transforming our wellness landscape. This year, I am excited to turn the spotlight to women’s health advocate Courtney Townley, founder of Grace & Grit, LLC. Grace & Grit is based out of Missoula, Montana, but Courtney’s voice reaches women nationwide through her podcast (graceandgrit.com/podcast) and her mission to “mend the fabric of the female health story.” I am excited to spotlight Courtney for our 2021 issue because she embodies a new kind of health coaching that will carry us as we move further into the decade. She is passionate about a multi-dimensional approach to health and fitness and integrates clean eating, functional movement, and stress management. Courtney began working in the fitness industry over two decades ago when she transitioned from the professional dance world. A self-proclaimed “mover, a shaker, and a healthy people maker,” Courtney now carries certifications in personal training, health coaching, life coaching, and nutrition coaching. I am a huge fan of Courtney and her sensible approach to sustainable lifestyle choices and share a similar mission of helping women unlock their full potential to lead an extraordinary life. Here is our December interview:
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MINDY: I have been watching you build your health-minded community for women. Your Facebook group, Women of Grace & Grit, has grown to 1.4K followers! I remember a photoshoot in the early days of Grace & Grit when you were wearing this beautiful emerald green ball gown walking through this dirty construction zone, which was such a perfect embodiment of Grace & Grit. Can you tell me why you chose that name for your business? COURTNEY: I came into the movement world as a dancer, so it was all very grace-oriented. In
my 30s, I got into heavy weight training and a more evolved, gritty side of movement. I think movement has both a grace and a grit component, but it is also such a great metaphor for how I help women because when you are trying to improve your life on any level, you need both grace and grit. There tends to be these two extremes (one which says you need to love yourself and that is all you need, the other which says you need to push hard and apply a ton of grit). I believe that self-discipline (i.e., grit) is born out of self-love, and I help women find the sweet spot between the two. mon tan awoman .com | marc h/ap r il 2 02 1
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MINDY: What I love about your coaching method is that it addresses all the dimensions of health, including hormonal health and stress management. I heard you say on one of your podcasts that you are not interested in helping women pursue physical health at the expense of mental health. COURTNEY: Health is very multi-dimensional.
Yes, there is a physical health component, which includes blood profiles, hormonal panels, and all those things. But then you have emotional and mental health, relationship health, spiritual health, and environmental health. What one woman needs to focus on (which area she needs to recalibrate in) is unique to her. But what our culture has taught women is that if they want to improve their health, they need to focus intensely on physical health, and I think that is a huge mistake. Because, how can a woman really improve her physical health if she isn’t mentally in a good place, or if she is in a really toxic relationship, or she hates her career? We can’t dismiss those other arenas of health. Just focusing on building muscle mass or losing weight with no 86
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regard to the other areas of a woman’s life is such a detriment to women. MINDY: I think we share similar beliefs on this, but I want to give you a chance to say it in your words: which is more important, sleep or exercise? COURTNEY: I teach that there are five main elements to taking good care of your chemistry: sleep, eating a diet made up of real food, staying hydrated, moving your body, and managing your mindset. What comes first in all of that is sleep; because when you are sleep deprived, you will not have motivation to do any of the other things. Not to mention that health is fortified during sleep. Your muscle tissue repairs after strength building during sleep. Your brain caches out, your hormones settle down, your immune system is fortified when you sleep. Shorting yourself on sleep is one of the unhealthiest things you can do. MINDY: For women who feel they are ready to
start looking at the fat loss component of health, can you tell me more about the fat loss triad I have heard you speak about?
COURTNEY: I think it’s really important for can we start to look at calorie-cutting and more people to understand that weight loss is not the aggressive exercise. same thing as fat loss. “what our culture MINDY: I’m 42 years You can lose weight that old, so just heading into is valuable muscle tissue has taught women is perimenopause. What if you are not doing it recommendations do you properly. Extreme diets that if they want have for women in my and quick fixes are not the age group about hormonal solution for sustainable to improve their health? change. Diet culture tells us to lower our calories health, they need COURTNEY: As we and increase our exercise, enter perimenopause and and that is hugely to focus intensely menopause, you are losing problematic for a woman progesterone and estrogen. whose system is already on physical health, As those hormones decline, overly stressed. So, the fat your body is not as good as loss triad is to first focus and I think that is it once was at managing on mental health and the elevated cortisol (the stress reasons for pursuing fat a huge mistake." hormone). Stress comes loss. Next, we focus on in many forms, not just hormonal health because mental stress. There is also nutritional stress, if your hormones are out of whack, no matter sleep deprivation, too much or too little exercise, what you do with exercise and nutrition, your drinking alcohol, and dehydration. I teach women body won’t receive the message properly. Only to take stock of all the stressors in their life and after mental and hormonal health are addressed mon tan awoman .com | marc h/ap r il 2 02 1
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help them identify where they need to start cleaning up the most. They may need to clean up in several areas, but we can’t change everything overnight because that is not how behavior change works, so we have to decide where to start first. MINDY: I named my aerial studio in Kalispell “Levitation Nation” not only because we lift our bodies into the air during our acrobatic movement practice, but also because we help women elevate health and fitness. If you could give just one recommendation to women looking to elevate their health and fitness, what would it be? COURTNEY: 110% it would be to learn how to manage your thoughts and your emotions because it is the reason that you do anything. Thoughts are what creates your emotional landscape, and our emotional landscape is what either inspires action or inaction. If you have control over your thoughts and emotions, you can create anything you want for your life. I feel like my whole career, 20 years in the wellness industry, has led me to being able to say that with total conviction. Because, I just
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taught people how to move for years, and then I got really heavily involved in nutrition and taught protocols to promote fat loss, which worked… until it didn’t. I have realized that none of it really matters if a woman doesn’t have the skills to manage her thoughts and emotions. RESOURCES:
Grace & Grit Podcast: graceandgrit.com/podcast Grace & Grit Blog: graceandgrit.com/blog/ Grace & Grit (Free) Facebook Community: facebook. com/groups/graceandgrit MINDY COCHRAN is the founder of Kalispell’s Levitation Nation Aerial Studio, where the catchphrase “fitness is fun” is embodied alongside a culture of movement & women empowerment. Mindy believes that “The Real Levitation Experience” lies within elevating your health & wellness. Mindy loves to share the expertise she has acquired through her certifications as a personal trainer and life coach. For more about Mindy or Levitation Nation, please visit www.levitationnation.org.
IMAGE BY LINDSEY GARDNER
a ceremony as unique as your love.
SARAH HARDING humanist celebrant
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WELLNESS |
TAKE CARE the importance of regular cancer screenings BY MADY RIGG | KALISPELL REGIONAL HEALTHCARE
These safety measures have taken us through a whole year’s worth of life’s moments— birthdays, holidays, anniversaries. Each time we masked up or spent extra attention washing our hands, we became active participants in safeguarding our next big moment. Now is the time to take up our next mission to protect our futures. There has been a steep drop in cancer diagnoses in the United States since the start of the pandemic, but there is no reason to believe the actual incidence of cancer has dropped. Appointments for breast and cervical cancer screenings in March 2020 were down 86-94% compared to previous years across the USA. In one survey of women who typically follow screening guidelines, 27% planned to skip or delay their mammogram in 2020.1 Cancers that are being missed now will still come to light eventually, but at a later stage and with worse prognoses. Modeling the effect of covid-19 on cancer screening and treatment for breast and colorectal cancer (which together 90
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account for about one-sixth of all cancer deaths) over the next decade suggests almost 10,000 excess deaths from breast and colorectal cancer. 2 Now is the time to reverse this trend. This time last year, when the world knew little about how covid-19 spread, health care systems around the world put a halt on cancer screenings. There needed to be certainty that patients and staff would be safe. KRH quickly adjusted scheduling polices, screening protocols, rearranged waiting rooms, and enhanced how we clean. It is safe to get your cancer screening. Waiting can be the difference in the severity of the illness. Finding cancer early, before it has grown, spread, or is even noticeable, is when it is most likely to be curable. Talk to your primary care provider about which cancer screenings are recommended for you. If we can navigate a whole year wearing masks and missing hugs, we surely can make a point to get our regular cancer screenings. We all deserve the chance to protect our health and our futures. We never want you to miss the chance to be present for any of the life you want to live. Visit krh.org to connect with providers in our area for screening, cancer treatment, and more.
Survey: COVID Impact on Patients, Topline Findings: Wave2, June 2020 2 Sharpless NE “COVID-19 and Cancer,” Science. 19 Jun 2020: Vol. 368, Issue 6497, pp. 129 1
IMAGE PROVIDED BY KALISPELL REGIONAL HEALTHCARE
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or the past year, nearly every one of our conversations have been shaped by covid-19. Rightfully, each of our lives have drastically changed over the past twelve months. We have made sacrifices, navigated new challenges, built tremendous resilience, and journeyed through every bit of grief and joy. At this point, each of us can recite the precautions better than we could recite the pledge of allegiance in elementary school.
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Each time a woman stands up for herself, without knowing it possibly, without claiming it, she stands up for all women.
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