You’ve probably never heard of Joan Levy Earle. She was my unsung hero. I would have written IS my unsung hero, but Joan passed away a few weeks ago. I discovered her obituary recently when trying to reach her.
Joan Levy Earle
To many, Joan was a painter. To others, Joan was a writer. To me, Joan was a safe harbour in the storm that raged often in my household when I was a child. An alcoholic parent is never a good thing.
My first encounter with Joan happened shortly after my father brought home an unexpected gift - a shiny spanking new baton. I was eleven years old.
“Someone is teaching baton twirling,” my dad said. “Maybe it will be something you like.”
But like was not the right word. Love was the right word. From the moment my father took me to a nearby public school’s gymnasium and registered me for baton lessons with Joan, my world brightened.
joan levy earle
Please understand, there were at least ten others in my age category. Joan had many students of different ages. Still, each Saturday morning, her class felt like a glorious event where I was one of a chosen few.
During my time as a novice baton twirler, I regarded Joan exactly as she remained forever: beautiful, poised, passionate, creative, calm, and kind.
Me. Not your ordinary majorette corps.
Eventually I became one of Joan’s senior majorettes. We weren’t your average majorettes. Joan didn’t allow us to be average. She meticulously choreographed our routines. Dance moves were one of Joan’s specialities.
We performed on television shows for children. Over the Christmas seasons we entertained the elderly in nursing homes.
Joan Levy Earle
Me. Front and centre.
Under Joan’s coaching, though she was only in her twenties, our majorette corps participated in many competitions and productions staged in the auditorium of our community’s largest high school. Costumes were sewn, makeup was applied, and encouragement reigned.
Joan’s creativity didn’t wane as the years pressed on and little girls like me grew and left majorettes to march on to other interests … boys, for instance.
She pursued her passion as an artist and wrote remarkable books about the people she loved and lost.
Last year, I discovered my childhood locket in an old wood chest. On one side of the locket I’d inserted a photo of John Lennon. On the other side, I’d inserted a photo of Joan.
My two idols.
Joan got a kick out of this photo when I sent it to her.
So here’s to you, Joan Levy Earle, for a life well lived. You were full of love and grace. You made me a better person. You made me smile.
You made me feel good about myself as a chubby pre-teen …
… and helped me become a healthy teenager.
You instilled in me the self-confidence I sorely lacked. You were the ideal role model.
I still have my majorette boots.
Their red tassels fell apart years ago.
Joan, I am so glad we reconnected. It gave me the chance to tell you how special you are, and how memorable you will always remain to those of us girls lucky enough to have you in our young lives.
This is a poem by Joan, exactly as written when she was twenty-two. It was printed on the inside cover of one of our majorette show programmes.
Our Happiness
When you are aware that your life has been enriched
By thought, word or deed
Has gained beauty, excitement, intensity,
Then feel, enjoy and remember
The moment will never come the same again.
If the day is dull but you are smiling;
This is Happiness.
If your body is physically upset but you know no pain;
This is Happiness.
The air is cold and damp but you sense only warmth,
Your flowers wilt and die but you feel no sadness;
You have Happiness.
Happiness is personal; it must be free to live.
It cannot be measured by money or time.
It is the new understanding of your Soul,
The sparkle of your eyes, the smile on your lips.
It is the sun after the rain,
Birth after pain;
Touch after thought.
- Joan Levy