Hartland
The Hartland resident has been teaching a twice-weekly “bone builders” class, along with Nada Pierce, at Damon Hall for the past seven years, as volunteers with the Retired Senior Volunteer Program (better known as RSVP). They also hold a line dancing program once a week.
When I visited the bone builders group on a recent Wednesday, DeVoyd was teaching it by herself that day. She greeted me and began sharing her experiences with the strength- and balance-building program.
“I was having all kinds of trouble with my knees,” she recalled before the session began.
The benefits of the bone builders program are well-documented, but I don’t want to get into them here. Instead, I want to tell you about what makes the program in Hartland so special.
To me, that’s DeVoyd.
Wearing a black-and-white stripped shirt with a flying witch pin that matched the bright orange flower in her hair, DeVoyd greeted each participant, many of whom have been attending the class on the same day for years.
“They make it so pleasant. That’s why I come,” Elizabeth Forberg, of White River Junction, told me before the about hour-long program began. (Later, when I asked her age, Forberg asked the group “What age am I today?” They responded “29.” Her real age is 77.)
Most of the participants are in their 70s and 80s. Bone builders is an approachable program: there’s no instructor shouting out commands, pushing people to go faster. It’s do what you can, as best you can.
“You name it, I’ve had the problem,” DeVoyd said. “This class keeps me going. You have to keep going no matter how old you are.”
That’s something DeVoyd presents to all her participants. No effort is too small, no exercise too minuscule to have some sort of positive impact.
And, as the class progressed, it was easy to see why people keep coming back.
Participants started in a circle in their chairs, doing warm-up exercises that included rotating their necks and shoulders. That’s where DeVoyd’s tone went from excited to soothing as she led each exercise.
“Now we’re going to the beach to pick up some stones,” she said during one stretching exercise.
“Reach for the sky and grow taller,” she said during another one.
“No singing,” she joked in a stretch that resembled the I’m a Little Teapot song.
Then the group walked around in a circle like they were walking a tightrope, with DeVoyd leading the way. First forward, then backward. “You must keep on going,” she said.
Between each exercise, a little conversation took place. “You have to have fun once in a while,” she said. And it was clear that this group was comfortable enough to do so. Topics included the weather and Northern Stage’s latest production. At one point, DeVoyd rushes over to me. “The other thing I love about this class is the socializing,” she said. “I love it, can’t you tell?”
And I could. I could see it on the faces of the participants and hear it in their voices. I could see it in the way no one skipped an exercise, even if they had to modify it fit their specific needs.
“We just want to do enough so we don’t hurt,” DeVoyd said at one point. This isn’t a class that focuses on battling aging as foe but on working to make the process more comfortable.
During one exercise that required balancing on one foot, Forberg looked back to where I was sitting outside the circle. “It’s hard to balance,” she said. I gave the exercise a try. She’s right.
The next part of the program involved ankle weights. “As you get older, it’s more difficult,” Forberg said — but she said it with a wry sense of humor, a what-can-you-do-about-it? nonchalance.
As DeVoyd gives instructions she sometimes closes her eyes and a sweet smile — I have no better word than sweet — appears on her face as she counts softly, soothingly.
She clicks her tongue when each repetition is completed, followed by a simple “OK.”
“Shake them out,” she said as the group concluded a leg exercise. Then, wasting no time, “OK, other leg.”
DeVoyd’s enthusiasm isn’t overwhelming or so perky that it’s obnoxious. Yes, she’s has done these exercises hundreds of times, but there is no strain in her voice. It’s peaceful, it’s comfortable, it’s content.
“It’s a very congenial group,” Jean Day, a Hartland resident who has been attending the program for all of its seven years, said as the session concluded. “We all laugh with each other. It’s a good group.”
White River Junction resident Loretta Parker attends with her husband, Jerry Parker. The program benefits them both.
“It makes us feel good after we do it,” Loretta Parker said. When I asked her age, she said she’s 78 and her husband is 84. “I’m proud of it,” she said.
Betty Robinson, 81, of White River Junction, talked about the state her body was in before she started bone builders. “She’ll tell you,” Robinson said, motioning toward DeVoyd. “I could barely stand up. I came here and now I can stand up and do everything,” she said.
“All of us will tell you it’s helped us in one way or another.”
And DeVoyd?
“She’s a super girl,” Robinson said.
People like DeVoyd should be celebrated in their communities — for their steadiness and dedication to the cause of helping their peers and inspiring them to keep at it.
“This is my life,” DeVoyd responded. “I love it and I’ll never get it up.”
And everyone who attends the bone builders program in Hartland should be grateful for that.
Editor’s note: Bone builders is held at Damon Hall in Hartland every Monday and Wednesday from 9:45-10:45 a.m. It is free to attend. (The program also is offered at several other Upper Valley senior centers.) For more information about the Hartland class, call 802-436-2336. Liz Sauchelli can be reached at esauchelli@vnews.com or 603-727-3221.
