ELY — When Lacey Squier first walked into the Ely Folk School to take a Cornish pasty class, she had no idea she’d spend the next several years helping transform a scrappy, part-time operation into one of the community’s most beloved institutions. Now, as she prepares to step down as board chair, she’s doing it the only way she knows how: with a party.
“My husband jokingly said, ‘The most Lacey thing you could do is throw yourself a party and impose upon people all of your favorite things,’” Squier said with a laugh. “I think he was joking. But I was like, okay, that’s the plan.”
The fundraiser dinner, scheduled for Thursday, Feb. 26 from 5-7 p.m. at the folk school, is equal parts celebration and civic statement. Squier, who also works for Boundary Waters Connect, has spent considerable time researching nonprofit leadership pipelines and says she wants the evening to send a message to people on the fence about getting involved in community organizations: Board service has a beginning, a middle, and an end — and that’s by design.
“I want young people to know you can join a board, serve, and make a difference, and then you can cycle out,” she said. “We want people to be engaging in leadership roles.”
Stepping into the chair role is Chris Clemens, whose own introduction to the folk school came through something considerably more fragrant than a recruitment pitch. Clemens and his now-wife had been spending time in Ely part-time since around 2016, and when they couldn’t find a house to buy, they rented an apartment above the folk school. One morning, the smell of something cooking drifted upstairs.
“Mary Louise Icenhour was making pasties,” Clemens said. “I’m a huge pasty guy. So, I just kind of hung out.” One conversation led to another, and eventually the board asked him to join, and he’s been instrumental in growing the school while serving as treasurer.
When Squier raised her hand in early 2021 to take on the board chair role, the folk school had two part-time staff and was only just beginning to operate year-round. Today it employs two full-time staff members, a 30-hour-per-week employee, and a part-time mercantile manager. Programming and budget have more than tripled.
The turnaround wasn’t accidental. Clemens identified an SBA loan program during the COVID recovery era, and the board made the decision to take on low-interest financing that gave the organization room to invest in staff capacity. That investment led to Lucy Soderstrom, who had started as an intern, being elevated eventually to executive director after longtime program director Betty Firth retired.
“A lot of our growth can be attributed to investing in staff,” Squier said. “Creating that executive director role and having Lucy in it has been indispensable.”
Clemens says the board’s posture has shifted accordingly. The early days of a working board that helped keep the lights on have given way to something more sustainable: a board focused on resourcing a team that can run and grow the school on its own.
Both Squier and Clemens spoke with obvious affection when recounting what the folk school has meant to the wider community. Sure, it’s a place to learn woodworking or baking, but it’s also a gathering point that seems to generate belonging almost as a byproduct. Squier described the school’s annual spring bonfire, held the Wednesday before fishing opener, drawing 150 people the first year it was held. Clemens recalled attending the school’s Thanksgiving potluck for the first time and finding 60 people there, then returning the following year to find 120.
“I’ve never known anybody to not have a good time hanging out with the people who are part of our community,” he said. “It wasn’t something I expected to draw so much energy from.”
For Squier, the departure is bittersweet but clear-eyed. She plans to return her focus to teaching, including the Slovenian honey walnut potica classes she prepared for by apprenticing under Icenhour, the same woman whose kitchen drew Clemens downstairs years ago. Squier learned the recipe directly from her, a born-and-raised Ely native of Slovenian descent, when Icenhour decided to step back from teaching during the pandemic.
“It is totally an honor to carry that baton,” Squier said.
Thursday’s party is open to all. Squier and her friends are preparing the dinner menu, and guests are invited to contribute whatever donation feels right to them in exchange for a free meal and good company. At 6 p.m., Squier will sit down with Soderstrom for a brief conversation before the evening winds down at 7 p.m.
Squier was emphatic that her departure from the board changes nothing about her relationship with the institution.
“I’m cycling off of the board, but I remain very loyal to the folk school. It is a cornerstone of my Ely experience,” she said. “I just thought celebrating local leaders is important. And yes, it is kind of on brand for me to throw a party for myself.”