The Journey
Welcome to The Journey, a space where Mary McKSchmidt shares her transition from business executive to advocate, photographer, poet, and storyteller. Here, she invites you to walk alongside her as she explores life in the Great Lakes region, its beauty and fragility, and the bonds that connect us all.
Remember Schoolhouse Rock?
It took lead contaminating the water in Flint and destroying the dreams of several generations now facing neurological disorders, learning disabilities, heart and kidney disease, and reduced fertility . . .It took Michigan-specified testing, adopted in...
Yellow
For Phoebe (“Miss Febb”) BurnsPerhaps it was the translucent effect of the sun on the petals of its namesake’s drooping head that caused her to pause. Perhaps she, too, felt her shoulders lift in the sun’s light, shedding, for that moment, memories of her husband’s...
Building a Bridge of Understanding
Sunday morning, I walked down the pier to our boat, looking forward to escaping the news and recharging my spirits. To my dismay, hoisted up the forestay of a neighboring sailboat, was a Trump 2020 flag. All people in this country have a right to their opinion....
Finally, good news!
One would never know it doomscrolling through the headlines. Too many crises. But thanks to the “Three Things Thursday” email from Lisa Wozniak of the League of Michigan Conservation Voters, I learned that effective August 3rd, Michigan will adopt tough new...
Her Heart Was in the Sugar
It would be heavenly if she could seeher children on the front yard again,glance at them through the windowabove the sink as she fills the housewith the sweet smells of her baking;if, when she called them for dinner they came running, knowing what...
“Blow a Kiss to Bicycle Bob”
It would be heavenly if she could seeher children on the front yard again,glance at them through the windowabove the sink as she fills the housewith the sweet smells of her baking;if, when she called them for dinner they came running, knowing what...
I Want to Be the Stem
In a book rich with metaphors, award-winning English teacher Eric Stemle describes how to listen—not just with one’s ears, but with a mind that savors every word, with eyes searching for the unspoken, and most importantly, with a heart that is non-judgmental and...
Only When the Seed is Broken
“So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the heart,” Billy Collins concludes in his poem, Names (for the victims of September 11th and their survivors).On Sunday, May 24, The New York Times listed all 100,000 people in the country who, at that time, had...
We Cannot Forget the Dam Disaster
One photo showcases the legacy left by our parents, a generation that insisted on legislation that protected our water and air, endangered species, and held those who polluted with hazardous waste financially responsible for the cleanup. The other tells the...
Sequel: Surviving the Spring of 2020
Despite the garlic mustardmarching as an army across the dune,or the herd of ever-grazing deer,or the clawed paws of the squirrelsscampering from tree to tree, this morning, among the crumbling leavesof last year’s memories, I discovered a trillium, nudging me...
Why Toilet Paper?
I want to write a poem about the fox or the robin the turkeys or the moon or even the radiant colorsof last evening’s sunsetbut all I can think aboutare those empty store shelves knowing at some point I will get down to that last rolland nowhere in my boxes of...
I Want to Write a Poem
I want to write a poem about the pearly white pants of the Dutchman, flashing spring’s arrival across the crinkly-brown of winter, but last month . . .It was reported there were 62% more facilities in the Great Lakes region in “significant noncompliance” with the...












