Snow and Peace
by Zevida Germain
It's the night after the first big snowfall of the year, and the school yard is scattered with snow forts, most of them just small snow chunks piled on top of each other, but probably castles to their creators. Some of them are broken and scattered, a job done by the middle schoolers who dropped by before us. I stand in a smallish castle with a little snow table at the front, and leaves, pine cones and all sorts of other goods hidden under piles of snow, a little makeshift shop. Nearby, Evelyn Nickerson is rebuilding the biggest snow fort, pilling snow boulders and moving massive snowballs probably as big as the people who rolled them. She tells me about her old snow forts as she works.
“We used to build forts in winter, but they got banned,” she tells me. “We threw ice chunks at each other because the snowballs wouldn't hurt the other kids enough. We colored the ice red with food coloring, too. Sometimes the teachers couldn't tell if the kids were bleeding or not.” Evelyn chuckles at that, knowing she’s rebuilding a war fort that will see many more battles before spring. The rocks and pine cones in the shop are probably for putting inside snowballs too. Snow forts are not places to make family-friendly childhood memories, but a war zone.
“We used to build forts in winter, but they got banned,” she tells me. “We threw ice chunks at each other because the snowballs wouldn't hurt the other kids enough. We colored the ice red with food coloring, too. Sometimes the teachers couldn't tell if the kids were bleeding or not.” Evelyn chuckles at that, knowing she’s rebuilding a war fort that will see many more battles before spring. The rocks and pine cones in the shop are probably for putting inside snowballs too. Snow forts are not places to make family-friendly childhood memories, but a war zone.
Evelyn’s memories reinforce this. “It was just like a dictatorship, I swear. We had different roles, like Leaders and Builders and Soldiers and Traders. Everyone would bolt outside to protect their forts and destroy others' forts.” My younger sibling, Aydin Germain, jumps in to tell their experience.
“We’d bring out water bottles and fortify the snow and ice with boulders so no one could destroy them," Aydin said. "It would freeze and by the end of the winter everything would be super slippery with ice.”
They mimic slipping and falling on a patch of ice, and we laugh.
“We used to slide on the ice with our shoes when we were very little!” Evelyn adds “But that got banned when I got older. And playing with snow has been completely banned at my little cousin's school! They can’t even pick it up.”
it seems Snow Fort wars are going to be a thing of the past, another fun thing gone thanks to over-protective parents. Aydin tells us that at their school, if snow is in the air for even a second you get in trouble. It truly does seem like the anarchy of a good snow fort is just destined to become a dying memory as more and more restrictions get added every year.
But the fire is still alive in those who’ve experienced them, and it’s still a hot topic outside of Canterbury on mornings when the snow is fresh on the ground. We stand in a circle sharing our stories of war, glory and snow with stories that echo each other more and more. And of course, some students had different ideas of winter fun, as Meghan Gillingham tells me.
“I used to eat snow. so much. It was like my dinner.” She laughs and goes on to a story about defending her old snow forts, and I know the spirit of that childhood winter fun, as violent and wild as it may be, is still alive in her.
“We’d bring out water bottles and fortify the snow and ice with boulders so no one could destroy them," Aydin said. "It would freeze and by the end of the winter everything would be super slippery with ice.”
They mimic slipping and falling on a patch of ice, and we laugh.
“We used to slide on the ice with our shoes when we were very little!” Evelyn adds “But that got banned when I got older. And playing with snow has been completely banned at my little cousin's school! They can’t even pick it up.”
it seems Snow Fort wars are going to be a thing of the past, another fun thing gone thanks to over-protective parents. Aydin tells us that at their school, if snow is in the air for even a second you get in trouble. It truly does seem like the anarchy of a good snow fort is just destined to become a dying memory as more and more restrictions get added every year.
But the fire is still alive in those who’ve experienced them, and it’s still a hot topic outside of Canterbury on mornings when the snow is fresh on the ground. We stand in a circle sharing our stories of war, glory and snow with stories that echo each other more and more. And of course, some students had different ideas of winter fun, as Meghan Gillingham tells me.
“I used to eat snow. so much. It was like my dinner.” She laughs and goes on to a story about defending her old snow forts, and I know the spirit of that childhood winter fun, as violent and wild as it may be, is still alive in her.