Nancy Jorgensen

CONTACT:
Nancy Jorgensen
Address: 1707 Blackhawk Trail, Waukesha, Wisconsin 53186
Email: Nancy.L.Jorgensen@gmail.com
Website: https://nancyjorgensen.weebly.com

BIO:
Nancy Jorgensen is a Wisconsin writer, educator, and musician. Her most recent book, co-written with Elizabeth Jorgensen, is a middle-grade/young adult sports biography released in October 2022: Gwen Jorgensen: USA’s First Olympic Gold Medal Triathlete (Meyer & Meyer Sport). The team also co-wrote a 2019 family memoir, Go, Gwen, Go: A Family's Journey to Olympic Gold (Meyer & Meyer Sport).

Nancy is an award-winning high school choir director. Her production of CATS was named best musical in America by USA Today, and she is the author of two music education books, Things They Never Taught You in Choral Methods (Hal Leonard) and From The Trenches: Real Insights from Real Choral Educators (Heritage Music Press). She is a poet and essayist writing about music, equality, family, aging, and education. Her work appears in Parks and Points, Ruminate, River Teeth, Wisconsin Public Radio, CHEAP POP, and elsewhere.
Twitter: @NancyJorgensen
Instagram: @Nancjoe
Facebook: Nancy.Jorgensen.7

PUBLICATIONS:
Gwen Jorgensen: USA’s First Olympic Gold Medal Triathlete (Meyer & Meyer Sport); link to purchased signed copies: https://www.booksco.com/signed-copy-gwen-jorgensen
Go Gwen Go: A Family’s Journey to Olympic Gold (Meyer & Meyer Sport)
Things They Never Taught You in Choral Methods (Hal Leonard)
From the Trenches: Real Insights from Real Choral Educators (Heritage Music)

Poetry

On a Morning in Crater Lake National Park

We walked gravel paths
outlined in borders
of timber-wood, winding
our way through white fir,
white pine, western white pine,
close to the drop-off
of a ravine.

He was three years and fearless,
skipping ahead with Aunt Elizabeth,
escaping the path to dart among shadows
and rough-bark trunks and the edge
of a ravine.

He crouched behind a boulder and
whispered too loud.
I spied his blond head.
Where are you? Where are you?
I pretended to be afraid he was lost
when I was only afraid he was too close
to a ravine.

He ran to me and
I inhaled the beauty
of his hair and chin and
the elegance of nature’s perils.  

Originally published in Parks and Points