One of my favorite memories from my childhood — and perhaps the first time I realized just how prevalent Finnish heritage is here in Michigan’s Copper Country — dates back to my early teenage years, a time when my mother would make all of my medical appointments, and then serve as my chauffeur while ensuring I arrived on time to said appointments.
On this particular summer day, it was time to set an appointment with the optometrist. The friendly receptionist answered the phone, and heard my mother say, “I need to make an appointment for David Maki.”
Receptionist: “Which one?”
My mother: “David W. Maki.”
Receptionist: “Which one?”
At this point, I was further identified as the David W. Maki from Mass City, and my appointment was scheduled. Then, the receptionist shared that in their system, there were six David Makis as patients at this particular optometry clinic. We all have heard the joke that Upper Michigan is the “Land of 10,000 Makis,” and that’s been proven to be accurate — or at least in the ballpark — on several occasions, including at one small vision clinic in the greater Hancock area. With a surname like mine, I’ve never been the only anything; at least not yet. But as you now know, I’ve been “the one.”
In Finnish America, particularly when it comes to cultural preservation or heritage celebration, it’s rather easy to blend in and retain anonymity. “Someone else’ will do it, or it won’t happen and nobody will say anything because it’s not Finns’ nature to complain. That can be comfortable, of course, but I’ve wondered whether we should do all we can to make celebrating our heritage more rewarding. It’s been well chronicled on these pages, surely even before I found a seat in an editor’s chair more than two decades ago, that the No. 1 concern of cultural preservation minded groups is the aging of membership and the sustainability of the organization. It’s not unique to Finnish-American groups and clubs, but it’s acute. We’re all aging rapidly (yes, even me, you members of the previous generation) and trying to recruit new members at a time when lives are increasingly busy and prioritization is challenging. The hurdles have been in place for so long we don’t even notice that when we’re trying to find folks to join us and help us, we’re doing so with the vibe of desperation, rather than anticipation.
We need to be mindful of our approach when trying to entice someone to become part of our mission. We’re not looking for worker bees — we’re looking for fullfledged members, and their friends. Whether it’s for this year’s Juhannus celebration, or for a gathering later in the season, I encourage all of you to find a place where you can be “the one” who takes a part of a festival, event, or even a meeting and makes it their own — both in content and context, as well as responsibility. Many hands do make light work, and many Finns (and friends of Finns) make for wonderful celebrations. Make it a point — your Juhannus resolution, if you will — to find your niche and become the answer to that question the eye doctor’s office staff asked several times several years ago.
Which one? That answer can be you.