First, I want to join my colleagues in welcoming you all to “Beyond Little House.” I’m personally excited about a web space that we can all share our collective knowledge and interest in Laura and her world.
When I’m asked about my interest in Laura, I often start with the personal story of my family connection to the Ingalls. No, I’m not related. But my grandparents knew members of the Ingalls family in the area of Webster, Wis., very well, and one of Laura’s cousins, whom I knew as Ruby Martin, introduced herself to me when I was a small girl, reading “Little House in the Big Woods” in her living room while she visited with my grandma Elsie.
At the time, my six-year-old brain had difficulty with the concept that the little girl in the books could have such an “old” cousin. But I grasped an essential fact: the girl in the books lived a real life, like mine, and that meant all the “names” I learned in my history classes lived, too!
What heady stuff!
As I grew older, I soaked up everything I could read or find about Laura and Mary, their families, and the family stories I could glean from my grandmother. Oh, the missed opportunities I mourn now! I played with my very own rag doll, whom I named Mary, because I was the oldest sister and a blonde, too; I learned how to sew and knit and crochet because Laura did; I made bonnets and wrote poetry (badly) and gave oral reports about Laura in classes; I argued with school librarians who insisted on classifying the Little House books under “fiction.”
And a funny thing happened: I began thinking that if this remarkable person existed, other remarkable women existed, too.
My school librarians introduced me to Elizabeth Blackwell, Helen Keller, Abigail Adams, Jane Addams, Elizabeth I, and Joan of Arc. I immersed myself in the biographies of women and in women’s words. I emerged with a single thought: These women lived, and these women lived extraordinary lives.
Did that mean that I could live an extraordinary life, too?
It all started with Laura.
We underestimate the need for young women to engage with and discuss remarkable role models. And for many of us, Laura was our role model. She lived an ordinary life, but she had the courage and the encouragement of her family to push for the extraordinary, and accomplished much. The strength of Laura as a role model can be viewed in the accomplishments of her daughter, Rose, who attained international fame and respect in her time, having both that courage and the encouragement of her parents.
So when we share our love of Laura, we share a love of women as role models, and I hope, we offer ourselves as role models. Our young women need them. We all need to see that we do live extraordinary lives.
Amy Lauters