“Yksi, kaksi, kolme, neljä,” I whispered to myself while skating laps around the rink. The ice beneath my skates felt like home, but this time, home felt different.
I was alone on the rink; none of my teammates or school friends, like Helmi or Juhani, were there. It was just me, skating endless laps, feeling untethered.
I looked around the rink as I skated. Coach Salo, my coach, was sitting on the bench, watching the way I glided on the ice. He quickly turned his focus away from me and into the wall.
The wall had the flags of Michigan, Finland, and the United States. There were portraits of the hockey teams, the Sisu Swans and the Jr. Sisu Swans.
I saw my portrait up there, labeled “KATIE NIEMINEN 34# – SIBELIUS MIDDLE SCHOOL.”
After what felt like hours, my aching legs finally carried me to the rink’s edge, where Coach Salo waited, hand outstretched, his grin tighter than usual.
“Remember, Nieminen. The championships are in two months.”
I nodded. “Got it. Thanks for the lesson.”
“Lesson? All you did was skate,” he laughed softly.
“Well, nobody else was here,” I mumbled. “Not even Daniel, who probably skips school in order to get here early.”
“I know the Tulen Valo kids arrive very late,” he responded. “I remembered you told me that Sinnikka Andersen and Azoulas Ezerkies showed up near midnight once.”
“When is the next practice?” I asked Coach Salo.
“Next Monday. It’s going to be with Sinikka, Daniel, and Azoulas,” he nodded.
After saying goodbye to Coach Salo, I took off my skates and changed into my regular shoes, the sneakers I had painted with Finnish flag colors and added matching beads in the laces. Ready to leave, I stepped out of the rink and into the hallway.
I walked down the halls of Sisu College, where I learned more than just how to play hockey; I learned who I am. It is the only Finnish-American college not just in Michigan, but in the whole country.
Even though I’m an 8th grader at Sibelius Middle School, Sisu feels like my real school. Sometimes, even other students assume I go here because I’m always around.
All my life, I lived in Haamusalo, Michigan. Known for its Finnish-American culture, invisible division, and great hockey players.
My home was ten minutes from Sisu, so I walked, passing familiar streets lined with Finnish flags and flower boxes. A few
I made a game of counting every place that made Haamusalo feel like the Finnish town it was as I walked.
“Yksi. Sisu College.”
“Kaksi. The Finlandia Foundation lodge is located near the local bank.”
“Kolme. The Laestadian church that Juhani and his family go to.”
That doesn’t count. That’s West Haamusalo territory. I felt my heart beat faster. I wasn’t “supposed” to be in West Haamusalo.
I started all over.
“Yksi. Sisu College”
“Kaksi. The Finlandia Foundation lodge is located near the local bank.”
“Kolme. The Finnish bakery that sponsors my folk art classes.”
“Neljä. Sibelius Middle School.”
That’s better.
I stopped counting when I arrived home. When I arrived, I saw my father watching a hockey game on his television, which was between Sisu and a Swedish-American college in Minnesota.
“You can’t let the Swans lose, they got Sisu. It is in their name,” he yelled at the television, watching as the hockey players glided through the ice.
I knew my younger sister, Kaisa, was asleep. I was going to tell my father that he couldn’t be that loud since Kaisa was only a 2nd grader and needed to sleep, but he seemed invested. If I told him, he would probably get mad at me.
I went upstairs to my room. I didn’t even change into my pajamas. I just tried to sleep.
Something feels off today. Coach Salo seemed distressed, not like himself. I also haven’t heard from Juhani, Helmi, or anyone else.
However, I couldn’t sleep. Coach Salo’s worried look was replaying in my mind.
I went downstairs to ask my father to turn down the television, until I saw what was on the news that night.
“LOCAL FINNISH-AMERICAN UNIVERSITY AT DANGER OF SHUTTING DOWN CULTURAL PROGRAMS.”
I went back to my room, and I still couldn’t sleep. My mind kept playing the news headline over and over again. All I could think about was “Local Finnish-American university at danger of shutting down cultural programs.”
When I woke up, all I could think about was the horrible dream I had that night. It was so horrible that I wrote it down in the middle of the night.
“I dreamed that Sisu got shut down. Coach Salo got fired, and Ms. Kiimamaa is unable to pay for the supplies in the folk art classes. In my dream, every Finnish-American kid in the town forgot about their culture, even Juhani and Helmi. And then, they burnt down Sisu to turn it into a mall.”
Luckily, it was Saturday. It was lauantai, as I remembered from Kaisa’s Finnish basics chart she got at Sisu. I could either stay at home with Kaisa or meet with Juhani and Helmi at the Finlandia Foundation lodge.
I decided to go downstairs. As I heard the tapping of my feet on the stairs, I glared at my father’s Sisu College diploma, which he received for his work in student counseling.
Kunnia Ari-Pekka Nieminen: joka valmistui Sisu.
Right next to it was my mother’s diploma from Sisu’s seminary. That one made me more emotional than my father’s diploma.
“I miss you, Äiti, you would have been a great theologian if you were still here.”
I read the diplomas over and over until it was stuck in my head, to remind me about how much Sisu means to us.
When I finally stopped staring at the diploma, I could hear the Sisu Radio, hosted by none other than Aino Salo, Coach Salo’s daughter.
“Hello, Tervetuloa and Jumalan Terve to Haamusalo Radio! We’re here to announce that in two months, the Jr. Sisu Swans will be competing at the Michigan Hockey Championships in Detroit with eight other colleges! We’re proud of our junior swans: Toivo, Emillia, Elliot, Katie, Mätti, Sinnikka, Aaro, Daniel, Azoulas, and Lynn However, we do have some sad news for those in the folk art and student club departments. Our Middle and High school folk art classes are running out of money, and two of our clubs, the Jr. Suomi Dancers and the Laestadian Student Association, have lost ½ of their funding. Tonight, we will host a volunteer night run by Ms. Kiimamaa, the folk art teacher, Elinn Gaup, leader of the LSA, and Coach Märkinen of the Jr. Suomi Dancers. The weather is sunny and perfect for the outdoors. Please make sure to meet us at the Sisu auditorium between 8:00 p.m. and 11:00 p.m.Goodbye, Hyvästi, and Jumalan Rauhaa!”
After the announcements, I walked down again. I saw Kaisa and my dad turning off the radio and sitting down to talk, but I decided to stay upstairs. After the announcements were over, there were two hours of Finnish music- the boring kind nobody likes. I usually wait until all the other main shows are over: the afternoon announcements, the Laestadian-approved hour, the kids’ time, and the Finnish-language news, until they play the good music. The good music was the Finnish folk music, where you can imagine girls dancing in their kansallispukus and boys playing the kantele. When I was younger, I remember staying up very late, my only motivation being the folk music hour on the radio.
“Good Morning,” I said tiredly.
“Good Morning? You woke up thirty minutes ago just to listen to the radio. I thought you disliked the radio?” My father asked, looking up from the radio schedule.
“The Morning announcements and the folk hour are the only good parts.” I joked.
I sat down at the wooden table, which contrasted with the home’s colorful and traditional look. Kaisa was sitting down, wearing her Moomin-themed pajamas and reading one of the Finnish children’s books we found at a thrift store.
Kaisa blinked and looked at me with a worried expression.
“You seemed sad yesterday, you didn’t even wish me goodnight?” Kaisa said innocently as she looked at me, still in my hockey practice uniform.
“Well, you heard the radio. Sisu is undergoing struggles that we can’t ignore.”
“Then how am I going to play with my friends?” Kaisa whined.
“Kaisa, you still have ten years of school left. Maybe those were false news on the television-”
Kaisa interrupted. “It’s not true if Aino Salo said it on the radio. And I know Aino Salo is a big meanie,” she yelled. “I’m telling my moomin plushies about this.”
“That was something,” my father responded. “Anyways, please don’t tell me you slept in your hockey uniform.”
“I can explain,” I told him, crossing my arms. “Coach Salo typically is very energetic, and usually Helmi and Juhani were there with me. Helmi plays, Juhani just watches due to his reasons, but it felt like the opposite. Coach Salo looked stressed. Nobody was there. It was just me. The halls were also empty. It just felt different. I spent all night tossing and turning, and when I finally drifted off, I had the worst nightmare about Sisu ever.
“Katie, I know you had a hard day. But are you still going to the volunteer night with Juhani and Helmi?”
I nodded. “Kyllä.”
“Well, get ready.” “I know, Helmi is coming over in a few minutes,” I replied, preparing to go upstairs.
“Helmi is the Laestadian kid who goes to Tulen Valo, right?” my father asked as he washed the dishes.
“No, that’s Juhani. Helmi and I go to school together. Remember?” I responded again, my voice barely audible since I was already upstairs. “I keep forgetting.” My father yelled.
I went back to my room, changed into my favorite hoodie. It had Finnish folk art motifs, the Sisu Swans logo, and my name in Finnish flag colors. After that, I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
While I was waiting, I started working on my next painting. The painting is of a dinner scene that features all of the important people in my life. My father, Kaisa, Coach Salo, Helmi, Juhani, my teachers, all of them are in the painting.
I was inspired by Kurbits’ painting, even though I was learning Finnish folk art. When I visited the Swedish-American Historical Society in Duluth a few years ago, I remembered how beautiful kurbits were. I loved the swirly lines, the abundance of flowers, and the pale colors.
That is what motivated me to sign up for Sisu’s folk art program. This is my 21st painting for the program, and it is currently my favorite painting.
I was working on Helmi’s part of the painting, which seemed to be the right time. I started painting Helmi’s blonde hair, as long as the Finnish coastline, and her kansallispuku from Pirkanmaa, which was as dark as a Finnish winter.
On her plate was karjalanpiirakka. She loves these Karelian pastries so much that she will eat as many as she can until her stomach hurts. Maybe Helmi will bring some for the volunteer night.
As I patiently painted the small details in Helmi, I heard a quick knock at the door.
“Who’s there?” I asked, quickly running to the door. As I opened the door, I saw Helmi. She was wearing the dress for her school choir concerts. She was holding a bag with the Sisu College logo.
“What’s up, Katie?” Helmi asked as she was digging through her bag. “At the Sisu bookstore, they have a new issue of Finngirl, and it has an interview with Kardemimmit!” Helmi squealed.
“No niin, I’m not a big fan of Kardemimmit, I prefer Enkel, they’re the perfect Finnish folk girl group,” I replied, looking at the picture in Helmi’s magazine. The cover read “FINNGIRL: THE FINNISH-AMERICAN GIRLS’ MAGAZINE” and had a picture of four girls with their kanteles.
“Also, Elinn Gaup bought it for me in secret,” Helmi whispered, giggling as she flipped through the pages.
I stopped Helmi’s hand mid-flip through the magazine.
“Helmi, where is Juhani? I haven’t seen him in a week.” I asked her. “Why would I know? He goes to that Laestadian school where there are only forty kids,” she responded.
“I know, he goes to Tulen Valo, where somehow, the hockey team is much better than Junior Sisu Swans despite it being just four players.” I laughed. “Have you seen Kalevi Laestadius versus Toivo Hämäläinen? Kalevi is three years younger yet much better than Toivo!”
“I don’t pay attention to hockey, unlike you,” Helmi told me. “I heard that Kalevi may be in the Sisu Swans soon, if his mom finally gains trust for East Haamusalo. I mean, some of us can’t go to the West without those restriction badges.”
I heard a knock on the door again. I ran through the fuzzy rug to open the door. A tall boy with light brown hair and glasses was there. He was wearing a dark red sweater that said “Tulen Valo Reindeer,” and black pants. He was wearing a badge on his left sleeve that read “LLC/SRK LAESTADIAN – ASK FOR RESTRICTIONS.”
“Hello.” He said. “I heard you were looking for somebody named Juhani Korhonen who lives in West Haamusalo. I’m right here.” He then sat down, asking us what was new in our lives.
“Why were you out last week?” I asked him. “You weren’t at the Finlandia Foundation lodge.”
“Well, I got grounded for something I did in Suviseurat THREE YEARS AGO,” Juhani yelled and crossed his arms. “And I didn’t even do it; it was my 9-year-old brother who did it.”
“What did you even do?” Helmi asked.
“It was the second day of Suviseurat, my younger brother was tired of listening to the services and was playing tag with three kids in the tent,” he explained. “One of the kids fell down, so my brother came and grabbed him and carried him to the kids’ tent, and because he was so strong, the kid got hit with one of the poles for the tents and had to be rushed to the emergency room. She got hit in the head badly.”
“Yikes,” Helmi responded. She was shuffling through the bag again, finding what looked like a little box.
“I made this with Sinnikka from Tulen Valo yesterday,” she said, dangling the little box from the top.
“It’s just a block,” Juhani smirked.
Helmi gently tapped on the box. Inside, there was a tiny sauna so detailed that there were even thin wool fibers to represent smoke.
“It’s the mobile sauna!” she laughed.
“That’s a mobile sauna for bacteria.” Juhani and I laughed.
Eventually, Helmi stopped us from laughing. She put her “mobile sauna” away so we could have a conversation.
“We need to talk,” she told us.
“Sisu is in danger. I heard it on the radio last night. I had a nightmare about it!” I told my friends.
“It is true, they talked about it at Tulen Valo too!” Juhani exclaimed.
“Volunteer night is approximately seven hours,” Helmi explained. “I’m two minutes away from Katie and five from Juhani. We can stay here until 6 pm, change and get ready, and then one of us can carpool.” “I don’t volunteer,” Juhani responded. “I have seven siblings, and most of them don’t even know either of you.”
“Guess I’ll do it.” I nodded.
“But what are we doing?” Helmi asked.
“Simple, I’m going to be at the folk art exhibition and the Sisu Swans vs Tulen Valo Reindeer. Juhani is going to be with the LSA, and Helmi is in the Sibelius choir, right?” I explained.
“I’m probably just going to stay at Sisu’s Laestadian prayer home, that’s where all the LSA kids are going to be.” He said.
After we knew where we were going to be, we finished our other plans. The snacks, the music, the speeches.
“There should be an entire table of just salmakki.” Juhani laughed.
“Too much salmakki isn’t healthy for you,” I responded.
“ I have a better idea, we should invite Kardemimmit to play kanteles with the choir.” Helmi chimed in. “There should be competitions where the loser has to eat suströmming!”
“That’s too far. What about the loser has to dance the Säkkijarven Polkka with Coach Salo?” Juhani added in.
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