Crumbs and Clutter in an AirBnB: Thoughts on a Well-lived in Space

I recently watched a short video where someone pointed out how many popular TV shows of late have been promoting a very clean aesthetic for their characters to live in. Whether it’s an apartment or a house, the scenes look like they plopped the characters into an AirBnB rental (a place where the goal is decidedly for it to feel lifeless and temporary so you can spread your stuff around for a bit). The person pointed out that in the 90’s the aesthetic for things, in movies especially, there was a lot of clutter and attention paid by set designers to make things look lived in. See below: HGTV teen bedroom vs. Kelly Kapowski’s bedroom from Saved by the Bell.

Kelly Kapowski's bedroom in Saved by the Bell.


There’s probably a whole different blog post waiting to be written breaking which genre of shows are doing this modern Martha Stewart magazine clean home or what mediums lean more toward it. That’s not what I’m trying to get into here.

Taken at face value, if the “no clutter look” is an actual trend, what does that say about what they are trying to project on to these characters’ lives? My teens would call it minimalist-maxxing. These characters don’t have a favorite trinket passed down from their grandmother on display or a piece of art on their fridge that their niece made them. These characters also must have a scheduled weekly house cleaner, always put things back where they found them, or never live in their home to make it dirty. It’s almost as if the clean space is the only thing that can regulate them. I believe you can have a clean home and still display what matters to you, but these shows seem to be saying something about the actual values and interior lives of the character beyond “clean spaces are good”.

One person put in the comments of the video that perhaps they were doing it to cut down on continuity errors (i.e. having a shot where a soda can was on the table and then next scene it’s magically disappeared because it was shot on another day) to which someone else replied, “My whole life is a continuity error with children! I put a remote down in one room and the next day it has moved to another room.” So true, Mr. Internet Commenter.

That got me thinking about what makes Maple Key Tutoring unique. Every week I, and my tutors, get to visit lived-in homes to discuss big ideas and the everyday-ness of life. I am thankful when I see a few cheerios on that floor that haven’t been swept up. I love seeing a handful of leftover party decorations on the table where the family had a big celebration with friends and family the night before. There are stories behind the mess, stories I get the privilege of hearing and connecting with each week.

It makes me feel like my imperfect life, and a life with a larger family, can be normal.

And judging from the feedback we get from our families, they appreciate the no pressure attitude our tutors come in with. If anything, we give full commiseration with what didn’t get put away or tidied up the way we would have wanted before the demands of the day creep in. That’s what makes our program feel so relational… because it is on every level! Any business can be transactional, but we work hard to steer away from anything other than supporting interdependence. When two of my dear friends unexpectedly passed away within a week of each other this past February, what a blessing to come to a table with crumbs each week and respond with my own crumbs when asked “How are you doing?”.

We need many diverse voices in our lives and the lives of our children and that starts with one untidy household at a time.

Grief Has No Timeline

Grief is not a topic I usually write about on this blog, but on February 4th and 13th I lost two very good friends to unexpected medical events. Both were moms in the prime of raising their boys. Two women who genuinely loved working with children and embracing them unconditionally.

The one I wanted to highlight here at Maple Key is our own tutor, Michelle Haddock who passed away after a severe asthma attack. She was able to be with us for the first week on the farm this year and wrote responses to all the students’ journals. She faithfully tutored one of our students in poetry, creative writing, and literature at the downtown library every week and loved her special connection with her.

Before she came to work for Maple Key, we got to know each other through our work at a local small library. I knew Michelle and I were going to be good friends after she was hired when she began talking about all the children’s literature she enjoyed reading. We would chat all the time about the programming we were working on along with all of our visions for the future of the library. She co-wrote the grant we were awarded in order to bring gardening to the library. Every day she had so much joy, knowledge, and humbleness in her spirit that she freely gave to others in her life. The other tutors at Maple Key and the library are still in deep mourning over her encouraging heart no longer being with us.

Here is what the library posted on its Facebook page:

It has been a difficult few weeks figuring out moment by moment how to manage deep feelings of loss while comforting others in the same loss. You just hug, cry, make a meal, write a condolence card, send a text to your other hurting friends and do it all over again the next day. That’s all you can do when you still can’t get your mind around the absence, the loss of what could have been.

Michelle loved to write and read and reflect. Our co-worker remembered she had started a blog to capture some of her greatest joys — her own children. Her post for her oldest son on his birthday beautifully explained her whole heart:

I have continued to fail you, over and over and over again…. and you forgive me, over and over and over again. You have the most resilient and forgiving spirit of any person I have ever met. Perhaps, it is simply because you have no choice. Walking two newbie parents through life requires one to have thick-skin, to survive all their missteps. But what is so precious about your forgiveness, as I watch you extend it to others and feel it given to myself….is that it is done so completely.  Once you decide to forgive, the slate is washed clean. My hope for you as you enter this new part of your life- the part where many of the hurts that you will carry through the rest of your life will occur- is that you keep that superpower of yours, to forgive with your whole heart. 

My other hope for you is that you will know, that you know, that you know….that you are worthy. I hope that you retain your tender heart. I hope that you keep your fiery spirit. I hope you never, ever forget that you are desperately loved. 

Michelle also loved poetry, so I am concluding this post with one of the best of them — Mary Oliver

“Starlings in Winter”

by Mary Oliver

Chunky and noisy,
but with stars in their black feathers,
they spring from the telephone wire
and instantly

they are acrobats
in the freezing wind.
And now, in the theater of air,
they swing over buildings,

dipping and rising;
they float like one stippled star
that opens,
becomes for a moment fragmented,

then closes again;
and you watch
and you try
but you simply can’t imagine

how they do it
with no articulated instruction, no pause,
only the silent confirmation
that they are this notable thing,

this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin
over and over again,
full of gorgeous life.

Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,
even in the leafless winter,
even in the ashy city.
I am thinking now
of grief, and of getting past it;

I feel my boots
trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart
pumping hard. I want

to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.


We miss you so much, Michelle.