By Brayden Beardsley

Having grown up in a rural town in Maine, I feel that I was sheltered from the world until I grew older. The first time I ever realized that not everyone saw things how I did was when I was six years old in Rennys. A man walked into the store carrying a small bag and was asked to leave it at the front of the store. I looked up at my mom who was also carrying a small bag, and asked her why the man had to leave his bag at the front of the store and she didn’t. She responded that some people don’t trust people who are black and that she didn’t have to leave her bag at the front of the store because the man working at the store was something called prejudice, a term a didn’t understand at the time. All I knew was that the man had been treated differently for some reason and that was wrong.

For me, my world view means how I perceive what happens around me based on my outlook and values; much like the “lens” that we talked about during our first Human Ecology class. Even from a young age, I had very strong values and morals because the aspects of my life that have affected my world view are what I care about the most. Collectively, my parents, Akihisa, Biruk and Eden, and Tom and Brandon have all worked accidentally or intentionally to shape my lens in which I view the world through.

One of my most vivid memories of Akihisa (our exchange student from Japan) was when we were just sitting on his bed talking about anything that came to mind. He told me about the differences between our cultures; how no one ever hugged anyone else (even family members), how when you reached five years old, you couldn’t use the flavored toothpaste anymore or cry unless you were physically injured, how everyone was an atheist but they all believed in ghosts, how pigs were said to say “boo, boo” instead of “oink, oink”, the list went on and on. I realize now, especially after our Histories class on the Nacirema tribe that was actually describing America, that it is very easy to judge a culture at a glance and be slightly ethnocentric, but to truly understand it, you have to delve deeper, as I was able to do with Akihisa after staying with him for a year. I’d like to think that I have a more cultural relativistic view of the world after the experience and I now consider him to be another brother and was able to see him again for the first time in four years this past summer.

After Akihisa left, we adopted Biruk and Eden fromEthiopia. To this day, that trip that I made has been the most influential experience of my life. Seeing people who weren’t struggling to stay afloat as we Americans put it, but actually struggling to stay alive really struck me. I saw sewage running through the ditches in the street when we were in the capital of the country and children whose bellies were enlarged because of malnourishment and had flies resting on their eyeballs, not their eyelids, their eyeballs. When I went to meet Biruk and Eden’s parents with my mom and found out that the reason they were given up for adoption was because the parents couldn’t provide for them and pay for the HIV medication, I felt that we were both a gift and a curse for the parents. But then I saw the so called “president’s” gardens which required enough clean water every day to keep an entire city healthy. This social injustice and poverty caused a paradigm shift in me. I had always heard of poverty stricken countries but had never experienced it myself, and when I did, I realized that the rest of the world needed help. This past year, I was lucky enough to participate in a project based learning assignment where we raised awareness and over five hundred dollars as a class of twenty students, to benefit the Wide Horizons For Children Organization, the adoption agency where we got Biruk and Eden from.

During the first week in Literature, we discussed a section of Omeros where it reflects on the pain and sadness the characters feel while chopping down the forests. I think this ties perfectly into Leopold’s quote, “We can be ethical only in relation to something we can see, feel, understand, love, or otherwise have faith in.” These values and virtues that can be seen in the two texts are where I think that my parents and chosen extended family (Tom and Brandon) have really had an impact on my worldview. They have been the ones who have taught me the differences between right and wrong, have shown me virtues, and have always been there as people to look up to when I need an example of what it means to be a good person. From them, I have sculpted my moral values and have chosen to have a consistently positive outlook on life. Although they are there as guides, they don’t force me to believe anything and don’t argue that I’m wrong if they see something differently than I do. Although my dad is Christian and my mom is an atheist, they have let me chose what I want to believe and have answered my questions without bias rather than saying that one way or the other is better. They are the ones that have shaped the lens in which I view the world.

From coming to The Island School, it may be too soon to tell, but I don’t think my worldview has changed, if anything it has been enforced. People here aren’t struggling as much as they are in Ethiopia, but they aren’t exactly flourishing either; they need a helping hand to get them on their feet. While I hated doing the swimming exercise last week, and have been struggling to enjoy Omeros, I’ve tried to stay positive and at least learn from them to become a better, more rounded person. I still hold the belief as the young boy in Rennys that no one should be treated differently based on something so insignificant as the color of a their skin and I hope to continue to reinforce the worldview that I have created and perhaps even complicate and expand upon it while here at the Island School.

Franchesca Bethel:

Listen to the sounds you cannot hear. The ones your eyes can transform into vibrating echoes of music.

Clank Clank Clank! A tiny metal stick bounces violently against the walls inside a rusted yellow cowbell, and makes a clanking sound that creates a beautiful harmony with the bass of the goatskin drums. You would never expect two distinct sounds, clanking and booming bass to harmonize so well together, but they just do. Whistles and horns are played along with the clanking and booming, and still the sound is perfect. Your ears are too small to hold the sound. The vibrations escape your ear canals and start to send electric shocks all over your skin until the booming from the drum turns to the booming of your heart and that booming becomes the same rhythm which your body receives blood. That collection of vibrating clanks, booming, horns and whistles is the sound of Junkanoo, the sound that is echoed throughout the history of the Bahamas. The sound I heard when I was oriented to my culture.

In the Bahamas, Junkanoo is a celebration that was started many years ago. It is a celebration that was originally an expression of freedom. In the Bahamas, and possibly other parts of the world, slaves were given a day off from labor, the day after Christmas. We call this Boxing Day. On this day off slaves would take cowbells and shake them all throughout the day to commemorate their temporary liberation. With the cowbell shaking came dance, and with dancing and cowbell shaking eventually came drums and costumes, and if you skip a few decades ahead you can come to where we are now, into this massive celebration of what is now our Bahamian culture.

On Boxing Day at six o’clock in the morning anywhere besides Bay Street,New Providence becomes a ghost town. The people of New Providence and visitors from other places flock to downtown to see this beautiful festival of music and dance. The drum players, the cowbell shakers, the horn blowers, everyone wears a brightly colored costume that has been paper-mâchéd from months in advance. Any color that you can name has been pasted onto a costume in the Junkanoo parade. There is no limit to the type of costumes that Junkanoo performers wear or carry. It is truly amazing to admire the handy work of the crafters that take their time to design and create these amazing costumes. If an old English knight’s armor were made from an interior of cardboard with an exterior of organized paper-mâché clippings, he would fit perfectly into Junkanoo. When I went to my first Junkanoo parade I felt oriented. I remember being right on the side of my Dad jumping up and down dancing with the bass of the drums and shaking with the clanking of the cowbells along with thousands of other proud Bahamians.

When we first arrived to downtown Nassau that Boxing Day morning it was quiet and felt strange, people were everywhere, but if you closed your eyes you couldn’t tell that other people were there. The bleachers were full. Everyone was squished, right next to one another. It felt awkward to be so close to strangers, I felt very out of place and questioned my father for bring me to such an event. It was cold and I was miserable, I slumped into my seat, sure that this event was stupid and pointless. Little did I realize how fast my mind could change. Once the crowd in the side bleachers saw the first Junkanoo marcher enter the street it set the people wild.  Never in my life had I heard or seen so much action and at first this made me feel more out of place. The loudness was overwhelming. People were roaring but a roar of pride. They were moving but only because the music sent shocks up and down their spines causing them to dance like they had no control over their muscles. Once the music jammed into my own ears, I felt oriented. I felt at home, I felt the culture run through my body like it was always there to begin with. I felt the passion from the lungs of the horn blowers slap me in the face in the form of melodies. I watched the performers in the street send the dancers in the bleachers wild, like a match setting gasoline a blaze. I blended into the dancing crowd and we all became a moving unit, slaves only to the clanking and booming of the Junkanoo music.

My first Junkanoo experience truly oriented me to my culture. At first I felt so out of place, but now I cannot help but feel completely at home when I hear or see Junkanoo. I realized that I belong to this culture, and it belongs to me. Every year since that day I celebrate Junkanoo like I was the first slave to commemorate freedom through music and dance. That is my definition of what it means to be oriented to a place. Whether it is through the introduction culture or experiences in nature or some other way of connection, to find your sense of belonging is to be oriented to a place. During my first two weeks at The Island School, I have been swallowing and digesting things that I have put in my mouth before, such as kayaking, scuba diving, camping, running, snorkeling, swimming and many other awesome activities.

During the first week in this familiar place, all the Island School students gathered as three groups to socialize and hold interviews with ‘people with a past’ here in Eleuthera, Bahamas. I felt at home, because we had the amazing opportunity to sit down and speak with two very interesting Bahamians and a man that came to this country to find a better way of life. Listening to these people speak made me feel like I was listening to my family speak, or people from my community back in Nassau. I feel like this part of my orientation here at The Island School related to the mission of the school that talks about the creation of an intentional community. Being completely immersed in conversation with these people made me feel a greater sense of community. Another way I saw this part of the mission statement being demonstrated throughout my orientation was during my advisory time, when I had the chance to hear more personal stories, about my now mini family here at the Island School.

At this school sustainability is very important. It was one of the first things that I noticed, because you can see the wind turbine spinning from miles down queen’s highway. We also use rainwater, and solar panels as natural resources. Those are some of the big ways the Island School has taught me about sustainability but I have also learned other steps in sustainability, like taking navy showers to lessen the amount of water I use. I have also noticed that the great teachers here help to provide the students with entertainment in our free time, like how Emma, Christie and Brady played games with the girls in the dorms on our first few nights here. I feel like in away that modeled sustainability because it showed us that we don’t have to being using our laptops or other electronics for fun.

After Scuba week and our three day kayak, I feel like not just myself but everyone here has already developed a more intimate sense of place, just like the mission statement of this school says. Gliding on the crystal clear shallow waters of Eleuthera, in my kayak I couldn’t help but to feel the same emotion I felt the moment I heard Junkanoo, but this time it wasn’t a very shocking orientation, due to the fact that I have been kayaking in the Bahamas before the three day kayak. I also felt a great sense of place when I was thirty-eight feet below the surface of the ocean, near Tunnel rock. I have been scuba diving before as well, but that still does not lessen the beautiful feeling orienting feeling I felt under the water.

To be oriented is to be brave enough to try something new. It is the process of transitioning from your old ways into a newer experience. My orientation to The Island School has been the definition of the school mission, and now I understand the mission in a deeper sense. One that I feel more comfortable with and I doubt that will ever change.

Jack Martin:

Orientation is defined as the adjustment or alignment of oneself or one’s ideas to surroundings or circumstances. While this dictionary definition is useful to gain a basic understanding of this concept, orientation is an extremely personal process that is different for every person. The Island School orientation week forced me to step both in and out of my comfort zone by having me participate in activities that I felt comfortable in, as well as those that I never had tried before. Learning to SCUBA dive was completely unlike anything I had ever done before and was not always a comfortable process. Contrarily, the camping we did while on our kayak trips is extremely familiar to me and I have spent a lot of time in the backcountry. The orientation week at the Island School connected to the school’s mission by allowing me to create a sense of place in the community, as well as making me conscious of my limitations and abilities as an individual.

The Island School’s orientation week accomplished its mission to create a community that is “cognizant of its abilities and limitations” by pushing me away from a feeling of comfort. My first experience with SCUBA diving required me to step well out of my comfort zone into the completely foreign, underwater world. The journey to certification literally took my feet out from under me, and required me to practice skills that made me very uneasy at first. For example, I struggled with clearing a flooded mask because I had not only lost my ability to stand and breathe normally, but I had lost my sense of sight. My instructor, Jason, encouraged me to stay calm, and before long, I was a master at this particular skill. The dive profile exercises required me to understand that the oxygen tank is not unlimited, and with the fun of SCUBA there is also serious danger. By participating in new activities I was provoked to not only understand my limitations, but also discover abilities I possessed that I was unaware of. As expressed by the concept of the Johari window, a strong community is made up of individuals who are fully self-aware and that know their place within the group. As each member of the community learns more about his or her self and those around them, their circle of trust expands and the intentional community is strengthened. By having everyone participate in SCUBA certification, our experiences overlap, and our knowledge of each other begins to grow. Each member of the community becomes more comfortable with their surroundings because of the struggle we share, and each member is allowed to further discover how they fit into the school community. My experience learning to SCUBA dive allowed me to become cognizant of my limits and abilities and as a result helped me to find my place in the Island School community.

Kayaking in Southern Eleuthera allowed me to establish a comfortable position within the community because camping is something I enjoy. This section of our orientation week connected to the school’s mission of creating a sense of place because we were physically immersed in our surrounding environment. Additionally, I felt this section of the school’s intention in a very personal manner because the three-day kayak trip was well within my comfort zone. While on our trip, I volunteered for the task of building a fire to cook our meal for that night. Although the physical process of making a fire is simple, the experience allowed me to showcase a skill I had learned outside of Eleuthera, and as a result I further strengthened my place in the community. The kayak trip contrasted my somewhat anxious experience in SCUBA because I always feel at home in the backcountry. No matter how far I am from my physical home, the backcountry is my querencia; or the place I feel most comfortable. Although I had always felt this coziness while camping, my introduction to the concept of querencia allowed me to further my understanding of my love of nature. In this way the school’s orientation week allowed me to enjoy one of my favorite activities even more. The relaxed attitude I assume while in the back country allowed me to reflect on my experience in SCUBA, and come to understand my place as a student with a unique experience in the school community. The school’s orientation week not only provided me with the opportunity to do something I love to do, but introduced me to the concept of querencia and how being at home is not physically being in a specific place.

The process of orientation week as well as writing this essay further strengthened my belief that orientation is unique to an individual. Although all 48 students participated in similar activities, no one person’s experience was identical. Each student brings a set of beliefs and experiences that is completely different from anyone else. While the school can set up various activities that encourage orientation, orientation is hardly a structure, formulaic process. Everyone’s journey to orientation involves a combination of trying new things and sharing their personal experience with the rest of the group. Our school’s mission is realized by the intentional unity we create during orientation week. 

by Chris Foote

So what?  It is hard to say when I’m still learning so much about this world and my self.  When first considering what to write on for this assignment, I was at a loss for words.  Then, as I looked out onto the pristine, blue ocean, the last line left Ashley’s mouth and lingered in the air: “When he left the beach the sea was going on” (Walcott, 325).  This triggered something deep in my mind, and I thought of all I have learned here.  First, I thought of the complexity of the life underneath the monotonous waves on the surface and its surfaces; then, of how that life is threatened by fisheries today.  I thought of Tito’s dilemma, the Mexican Fisherman who we learned about from Brady, and understood how he was conflicted between his family and the sea; of Hector’s burial, the swift, the sea-almonds; of the empty Spanish bottle landing on Cotton Bay after a long journey at sea. And at that moment, I realized: I am invested in my education.

For my entire life, school was to write an essay, turn it in, get your grade, forget it.  This was successful, until I touched down in RockSoundInternationalAirport.  It hit me a couple weeks in that I was thinking about the homework I worked on, not just mindlessly skimming Sparknotes on Macbeth so I could finish the new episode of “White Collar” before lights out.  For example, as I navigated through the confusing waters of SCommon and stumbled upon our first Omeros reading, I thought I knew the game like the back of my hand.  Open the book, circle some words, underline the first and last line of each section, scribble some remarks on the side, and your done in 15 minutes.  Soon, to my surprise, my mindset was altered by the many fascinations of Omeros. I found myself taking more time on each reading and really understanding what I wrote in the margins of the tattered novel.  This mindset brought me to a new place both academically and personally.  In both Histories and Literature Harkness discussions, I began to develop my skills as a facilitator.  I was able to step back from discussions and look at the bigger picture, and I felt more connected to each discussion, being both contributor and leader.  As a result, my investment in the classroom grew.

Just as I have evolved in the classroom with discussions and annotations, my investment in this environment has grown immensely as I’ve been here.  Since the first walk through the Inner Loop with Joseph, when I learned about mahogany and how to open a coconut, I have learned of this place and the services that it provides.  My project group and I created a Human Ecology project that I am passionate about.  60 feet under, a black grouper drifting aimlessly through the water in front of us while fixing tiles to dead coral with the sole purpose of awareness, I could not ask for a more inspiring project.  To be able to understand just the tip of the iceberg that is the awe inspiring environment that surrounds The Island School is not enough, I want others to feel the passion that I do.  That is not only the purpose of my Human Ecology project, but of much of the work we do here, as well.  It is so that I can return to my sending school and help others understand what I learned here: that we, as humans, are stakeholders in this earth, and that, in my opinion, we need to appreciate the power and complexity of nature if we want to live sustainably.  My vision is to carry my investment from The Island School to the world outside of this miniature paradise.  I will return to school as a meaningful stakeholder of the earth.  A stakeholder that not only respects and understands his environment, but one that gives back to it, as well.

My education here has taught me the importance of being a part of the environment.  On another long night of Marine Ecology homework, I was in the middle of a complaint concerning the length of an article when I turned the page and read: “It changes the role of Homosapiens as conqueror to plain member and citizen of the community” (Bohnsack, 7).  This quote reminds me of the importance to reach out.  I thought of the Settlement Day and DownIsland, and how experiencing the new culture of a community outside of The Island School made me feel more connected to Eleuthera and The Bahamas.  At first, I was out of my comfort zone, but my comfort only increased as I learned more about the areas I visited.  I now realize the importance of that type of domestic tourism.  By travelling to different places nearby, I was able to recognize and be a part of such vibrant diversity on a small island.  One of the forms of responsible tourism spoke to me in this regard: “[Responsible tourism] Makes positive contributions to the conservation of natural and culture heritage and to the maintenance of the world’s diversity” (Goodwin, 22).  Though this is concerning all sorts of tourism, it reflects how I have learnt to treat domestic tourism.  After seeing so much diversity on DownIsland trip, I see the incredible range of culture in such a small area, and I want to continue to explore places I thought I knew with the mindset of the “conservation of natural and cultural heritage.”  This connection to various cultures taught me how to become more invested in a place by showing that broadening my horizons on just a 3-hour car ride is just as meaningful as a 12-hour plane ride.

There are points in my life that I now realize I took for granted.  For example, two summers ago, I worked at a summer camp for those less fortunate than I, a culture foreign to me at that time.  The kids I met there were so different than I, I was intimidated.  I volunteered there for 6 weeks, and I did not get to know the students well until the end of my time there.  Once I put our differences behind me, I grew closer to my students faster than I have anyone else.  Now that I have learned the importance of cultural relativism, and to look at similarities instead of differences, I wish I had acted with a more open mind.  In the future, I will explore new cultures that I had looked over before.

So what?  My IslandSchool experience has given me a reason to be invested in what I do.  I feel that what I have done here has taught me to continue to be a part of my work, both in school and out of school.  This investment will drive me through the rest of my schooling and the remainder of my life by supplying passion and interest to my life.  As I look out onto the ocean, Walcott’s final verse spinning through my head, I will forever be reminded of all I have accomplished here and all that it has taught me.

by Ryan Schendel:

My parents always told me it started when I was four years old. According to them, we were sitting on a plane on the way to North Carolina, and I turned to my dad and asked him a question. Apparently, it was a basic question like, “Where are we going?” and “How big is this plane?” In the number of times I have heard this story from my parents, they always exaggerate more and more, but as I have been told, by the time we had landed, I had asked them hundreds of questions over the course of two hours. My dad always told me how exasperating it became, but he and my mom were glad that I turned out to be a curious boy.

I have been asking questions throughout my entire life. I always look at the world as a great wealth of information that I can learn about through asking. My teachers at school tell my parents every year that they’re amazed at how inquiring I can be and how often I ask questions, even if it eventually bothers them. My grandmother, who used to be a high school English teacher herself, has always told me, “Don’t stop your questions. You can always learn something new, you just have to ask.”

Reflecting on my life before The Island School, I came to believe that I arrived on Eleuthera because I was curious. My sister embarked on a semester in 2010, and she returned home as someone who I did not recognize anymore. She had changed in positive but drastic ways, and seemed to be extremely happy in regards to her time here. I wanted to know why. I did not want to only hear her stories about The Island School. I needed to come here and experience it myself.

Arriving on campus, something that I picked up on rather quickly was that questions drove this program. I felt comforted by the fact that we were encouraged to be curious. I knew this on our first academic day, where we were told to make a list of what we had learned and questions we still had. Even more, I saw this on our first day of research, when my advisor Ian Hamilton told our group that it was up to us to ask a question about lemon sharks, and then formulate a study behind that question. I truly felt that my curiosity would help me here more than anywhere else. Even if someone were to only look at the campus; at all of the innovative designs of sustainability that have developed here over the past thirteen years, they would understand that each of those systems were creating by someone asking, “How can we live better in a place?”

The Island School allowed me to ask questions about the world around me, not only in the community, but also in each of our classes. In our first Histories class, Emma told us we would be exploring many aspects of anthropology, ethnography, and tourism. However, she did not start the course with teaching us. Instead, she asked us a question. “What is culture?” She wanted to know what we thought culture was, or how we would define it. After having a long discussion, our class realized that culture was a term used to encompass so many different aspects of a society, and it did not have any real concrete meaning. I began to comprehend that we were just taught a lesson in Histories class completely through the use of asking a question and then continuing to ask questions. This was a pattern I began to notice in all my classes that continued throughout the entire semester. In Human Ecology, Rob asked us in our first class if we knew any common paradigms. We began to list a few, including how the world is flat, and that the universe revolves around the Earth. He shifted it into a natural resource perspective, including fresh water, fish stocks, and energy supply, and I again realized that we were in the process of being taught through asking questions. I wanted to know how studying old paradigms related to learning about solutions to global issues. I realized that by analyzing how old paradigms shift over time, I could apply the same idea of shifting ideas to current global perspectives. I knew my own worldview about the significance of overfishing, the misuse of fresh water resources, and conservation of energy definitely shifted even after that first day of class. One aspect of Human Ecology that always kept me interested throughout the semester was the fact that I, as a student, had the task of asking questions and learning about each of these issues so that I could come up with my very own solution. By asking more and more about the specifics in each unit, whether it be how much fish stocks have actually declined, or what percentage of water is privately owned in the world, I was gathering real information to apply to a solution. My questions had a new purpose. They were no longer just out of curiosity, but their answers were leading to more questions and shaping my worldview.

This idea continued to the end of the semester with our final Human Ecology projects. We were told to ask, “How can we live better in this place?” or “Where is there an issue of sustainability on campus?” Through asking myself what I felt needed to be addressed on campus, doing my own investigating, and talking to Sam about resources, Crystal about Aquaponics, and Marie about Aquaculture, I finally settled on addressing clothing on campus. After talking with Bernadette and Jake, I asked myself “How can our clothing become more sustainable?”

Looking back, I see my curiosity and comfort with asking questions as an individual strength to bring to group projects. I especially felt this during our Oral History Project. Talking with Henry and Victoria, I learned a lot about conducting ethnography. What I feel like I personally gained from that experience is that in a semi-formal interview, it is always helpful to be truly curious in whatever I’m researching. Whenever Henry or Victoria responded to one of our questions, I quickly found myself with a new question about their response. This kind of conversation builds off of itself and, at least I believe, develops into a very successful ethnography. Asking questions helps reveal more and more information, and reveal biases and the effects of Positionality. I feel as though my group experienced some of these aspects during our interviews. However, even with these limiting factors present, by asking more questions to other Deep Creek residents, it helped us determine the entire story, instead of focusing on a “single story,” of politics, religion, and history of South Eleuthera. Histories class has personally taught me to always ask questions, to never accept a story as the sole truth, to recognize that there are always biases present, and to keep everything in perspective. Applying these tools back home, I’m sure I will have a very unique experience in my History class next semester.

I have always felt strongly that in Omeros, the journeys that Achille, Plunkett, and Walcott embark on, to discover knowledge about life and their own beginnings, are all connected as parallels to each other. What I mean by this is that each character seeks to find significance in their questions through talking to sources of wisdom; whether that is Walcott talking to his father or Omeros himself, Achille traveling to Africa to discover his ancestry, or Plunkett scouring pages of documents to find meaning in his family lineage. I find these journeys to all be symbolic and related to my own journey here at The Island School. I’m sure I wasn’t considering it at the time, but I came here with questions not only without answers, but also without significance. Back home, I had been told that sustainability was important to consider and care about, and I wanted to, but I didn’t know why. I came here wondering to what limits I could push myself, and learned that my own limits are never truly my upmost potential. I learned from our Super Swim, Research Projects, Omeros, eight-day kayak, Solo, and so many other experiences, that I can always swim a little harder, learn a little more, push myself a little farther, and most importantly; ask more questions. Just like Walcott, Achille, and Plunkett learn on their own journeys for knowledge, one question can always lead to another. I learned at The Island School that this process of questions building questions is the only way to learn as much as you can. A quote from Omeros, that I believe reinforces this idea comes from Walcott as he reflects on his journey for purpose, “It was an epic where every line was erased yet freshly written in sheets of exploding surf in that blind violence with which one crest replaced another with a trench and that heart-heaving sough… however one read it, not as our defeat or our victory; it drenched every survivor with blessing”(296). I see this passage as a representation of my journey at The Island School. I am aware I will come away from this semester with good and bad experiences, and still unanswered questions. However, I personally see all of those encounters and all of those questions as learning experiences that I will hold with me forever.

When I was in Second grade at Greens Farms Academy, my teacher told my parents that she was concerned with the amount of questions that I asked in class. She expressed how she was confused with my lack of understanding of each subject and my necessity to know more. I have carried that comment with me my entire life, even to my semester here at The Island School. What I have learned from my experiences here is that questions are not an aspect of education; they are the main component of education. Whether or not that idea applies to my sending school back home, I now know it applies to everything later in life, and I have personally gained more confidence in my curiosity. I have learned that my grandmother was right; the only way I’ll ever receive the answer I’m looking for is by asking. The Island School has shown me the significance in questioning; how it is vital to so many different processes, whether they be designing a scientific study or assessing a global issue and finding solutions. My hope for what I take away from this program, is that my curiosity can be a gift, and I should begin using it.

Prompt:

1.  What does it mean to “marry your heart to your right hand?” (Omeros 72). Who lives this way? Do you? Should you?

Abby Anderson:

When I talk to my grandmother, she often tells me about weaving. She has been weaving for most of her life, was the President of the New Hampshire Weavers’ Guild, and goes to weaving conferences around the country where she shows her work and sees others’ work. In her little two-bedroom house, she dedicated an entire room to weaving, filling it with her loom and supplies. When my grandmother talks about weaving, I notice an important quality in her voice that perpetuates her love of weaving: passion. To find one’s passion and to be passionate are two goals that many people strive for throughout their lives. This passion makes up the essence of what it means to “marry your heart to your right hand,” (Omeros, 72).

People who “marry their heart to their right hand” feel passionate about their work or their interests. In Omeros, Achille shows his passion for fishing in comparison to his job on land, “There was no sun, he was sure. No scorching gunwales where the hot oars idled, no sea with its bleached sails,” (Omeros, 48). While working on Plunkett’s farm, Achille remembers all the aspects of fishing he loves. As a result, he returns to a career in fishing. Achille’s longing for the sea overtakes him and makes him realize he should return to life as a fisherman. In this way, Achille reminds me of Nehemiah, who for part of his life worked on land in the tourism industry. He later returned to fishing because he felt passionate about his fishing career, and continues to fish at the age of sixty-four. Both Achille and Nehemiah’s love for the sea compels them to “marry their heart to their right hand” and work at sea instead of on land. People should “marry their hearts to their right hands” in instances such as these because they allow individuals to combine their passions with a way to provide for themselves.

People should also follow their passions when preserving their rights and others’ rights. Last year on student council, the sophomore class decided to organize class participation in The Cots Walk, a walk against homelessness in Vermont. The activity remained optional, yet about ninety percent of our class came out to support the cause. In this way, our class united against something we all thought of as unjust. By supporting an organization that we felt passionate about, our class “married our hearts to our right hands,” together. In the documentary Flow, women inIndia protested outside of a Coca-Cola factory instead of going to work and earning a living. The company shut down or privatized their mechanisms for collecting water. Also, the company advertised toxic waste products as free fertilizer and distributed to the surrounding people. The women in the documentary protested to protect the right to clean water for themselves and others. By supporting a cause they felt passionate about, they “married their hearts to their right hands,” and tried to solve a problem that devastated many people.

Others should encourage people to follow their passions. In Omeros, Walcott’s father encourages him to write, like he did, because he recognizes the value in one working with what they feel passionate about, “Measure the days you have left. Do just that labor which marries your heart to your right hand: simplify your life to an emblem, a sail leaving a harbor and a sail coming in,” (Omeros, 72). Walcott’s father explains the importance of using every moment one can to do what one loves. Also, the sail leaving then coming back to the harbor represents one challenging themselves and moving outside their comfort zone to embrace their passions, but always remembering their home and the value of home as a passion. As a result of his father’s encouragement, Walcott pursues poetry and writes Omeros, which helps him connect with his passions and live out the ideal his father instilled in him.

When thinking about whether people should “marry their hearts to their right hands,” I immediately thought people should always pursue their passions. However, after giving more thought to the matter, I realized this might not always be the case. In Human Ecology class, we watched The Power of Community: How Cuba Survived Peak Oil, a movie about how Cuba coped with the Peak Oil crisis in the 1990s. In this situation, the people ofCuba had to learn how to live differently, and make sacrifices to help Cuba become a self-sustaining country. In this situation, people had to create individual farms and bike and take public transportation instead of driving individual cars. In this scenario, people like my great uncle, who feels passionate about collecting and driving cars, would have to sacrifice his desire to “marry his heart to his right hand” for the good of the greater society. Also, people throughout Cuba had to spend less time pursuing their passions to provide food for their families and communities. In this circumstance, people should not “marry their hearts to their right hands,” because one must prioritize their needs, their families’ needs, and their communities’ needs for survival above their passions, a tough realization because I have never had to prioritize survival over passion.

After analyzing how and why other people do or do not “marry their hearts to their right hands,” I started to examine how this concept applies to my life. I feel privileged to have the chance to follow my passions. Dance allows me to follow one of my passions. I have the opportunity to take classes and dance on teams and at recitals. This valuable privilege allows me to perform in front of others and showcase my passion. When people have the time and means to “marry their hearts to their right hands,” they should take advantage of this luxury. Personally, dance has fostered discipline, grace, and teamwork within me. These aspects help make me who I am. I have the opportunity to follow my passions, a privilege I should take advantage of.

Passion has a thrilling connotation, which people want to experience for themselves. I realized passion is a luxury, one that I should take full advantage of whenever I can. I need to try to “marry my heart to my right hand,” more often. I can do this by working harder in dance classes, and increasing my effort in the elements I do not enjoy, such as adagio. I can also live out my passions by spending more time with family and friends, and cherishing every moment I have with them. The fact that I have the opportunity to “marry my heart to my right hand,” means that I should seize these opportunities, because many people would love to have the luxury I feel so privileged to have.

Mattie McAlpin:

It is only human to express the way you really feel but true fidelity to a cause is only found in those who are selfless. The quotation “marry your heart with your hand’ (Omeros 72) essentially means to devote and invest your life in something you have passion and love for. To me it seems difficult to give this complete devotion without living a privileged lifestyle weather that is in wealth or education. But you are truly blessed if you can live your life working for what you are passionate about.

In Human Ecology class we watched a documentary film called Flow, a film on the global water crisis. I feel it is obvious that in order to create a film as persuasive as Flow there must have been a team of incredibly devoted passionate people surrounding the issue.  Every interview and statistic was out to hit a nerve of the viewer. Flow sparked a variety of raging emotions in me ranging from compassion to anger to stupidity. The fact that over 2 million people die a year from water related diseases, made me cringe. The evidence that 1 out of 5 children in Bolivia die before the age of five because of their drinking water, makes me want to cry. And the biggest element of surprise was that  we as a planet spend over 100 billion dollars a year on bottled water when it would only take about 3 million dollars to provide every human being on this earth with fresh, clean, pure water. This made me want to change the world. The credits began to role and I could feel a current of emotions consuming my every thought. I was willing to make a change, and with this change I wanted to make a difference. It is these emotions that allow one to become passionate and with passion comes dedication and commitment to what you love. I am sincerely ready for change, and Flow inspired me to already begin the brainstorming process for our Human Ecology final project. I am blessed enough to study here at The Island School along and have a say in the direction I decide to take my education and occupation in the daunting future. I look forward to working toward a rewarding impacting goal rather than a pay check at the end of each month, although I know realistically that is a difficult path to pursue.

I feel that the author of Omeros Derek Walcott does what he loves because his goal in life is to give the voiceless a voice.  The voiceless brought him where he is today and this is giving them the credit that they truly deserve. He feels purpose in his heart and all the abuse of the past is what has shaped what he has become today. History belongs to the author and Walcott very beautifully channels his compassion and frustration of the past into a poetic representation of his emotions. Too many people live life trying to tip the scale their own way but it is clear that Walcott does his work for others while still gaining self-benefit.

I am a member of my local Unitarian Universalist congregation and through this have become a part of organizing and participating in a youth program for local teens. This is where I feel my purpose. I believe it is incredibly important to be aware that youth will soon be the future and that young students should be given that chance to address, discuss, and expose themselves to a variety of concepts and important issues that we as a community face.  As a group we address racism, sexual orientation, immigration laws and a number of other conflicting concepts.  I find great importance in my own exposure to other thoughtful open-minded students and I hope that one day I can make a difference in minimizing oppression and educating the youth of my community. In participating and organizing this program I have felt closer to the concept of “marrying my heart to my hand” but I am confident that I have room to make an even larger and more effective impact on my surroundings and generations to come. I feel that everyone in life should be standing on the side of love and working to better there community in any area that seems to spark their passionate nature.

Ideally everyone should be able to get out of bed every morning to do something that they love, something’s that keeps them driven, and something that allows them to feel belonging. But I feel there are very few people who are fortunate enough to live so successfully. Great success often comes with serious sacrifices. I hope I can make a difference in this big hectic world. Its not about my name being left behind, its about what I left behind, who I impacted, and what lives I changed for the better.

Prompt: What does it mean to have roots? How do roots and ancestry affect one’s understanding of self and others? How do they affect sense of belonging to a place?

Will Gold:  What it means to have roots can mean many things but what they all lead up to is today.  Roots are what give today integrity.  Your ancestry, where you’re from and how you came to be where you are today are all part of your roots.  Roots give you the strength to face tomorrow with the same sense of hope that you had for today. They create your worldview and who you are before you even know what hit you.

To some, having roots is to know and understand their family lineage.  Mr. Pinder (the man my group was assigned to interview on Settlement Day) would say,  “Roots are your father, your father’s father and your grandfather’s father and so on for as long as you can remember.”  When we asked how he thought this effected who he was today he said “It doesn’t affect who I am it only affects who you think I am.”  This implies that roots can be a way to stereotype people based on success and that society often judges people differently according to their roots. Is it an honor or prejudice to be standardized by your roots?  I suppose that all depends on where you came from.

In research class we explored the idea of shifting baselines. Shifting baselines is where your expectations are different due to history.  I think this term also shows relevance in family life and historical roots. Every family has its own view of what it means to be successful and what it means to fail.  What one family classifies as success, another classifies as failure. This affects individuals on how they view themselves. To Mr. Pinder this is what came to mind when confronted with his roots, but how can it not? In a world where success and happiness are thought to be closely intertwined, roots can be nothing more then a standard that you place on yourselves and others.

For me it is an honor, I am proud of my ancestral roots and if that means what they did, I could only hope to live up to that standard. My mom runs her own business and my dad is a mechanical engineer. Both of my grandfathers were very successful. My Grandpa Gold ran his own dentistry practice and Grandpa Willett is the president of a ski area. I think the standard set for me is high and as these being my superficial roots I hope I can meet the expectations that have been placed on me to succeed.

These roots are important to me and I plan on upholding them but what is even more important to me than what they did is how they did it.   My grandfathers and parents all operate with honesty and integrity.  They have lived their lives based on one fundamental principle: love.  This is what I most emulate about my roots.  In Omeros Walcott explains how his father’s and his will have fused together. “ I appeared to make your life’s choice, and the calling that you practice both reverses and honours mine from the moment it bent with yours”. (68) This is what Walcott’s father says and it shows how values can be passed down through roots at such a deep subconscious level that they can become “one voice”(68).

It is the morals that I have been taught by family and upbringing that have made the biggest impact on me.  That’s what I like to think of as my root system.  Though my earlier ancestors have an impact on me by influencing my grandparents, they are not as crucial to me and hold less direct value of who I am. I believe that the examples they have shown and the lessons they have taught me are a big part of who I am.  The more we talked to Mr. Pinder the clearer it became that he is the same way. His grandfather instilled a sense of hard work ethic that carried with him his entire life. After growing up in poverty and working hard every day just to get by, he continued to work hard and was able to support about twenty-one children and maintained his life goal of being self employed. My ancestors’ morals like treating people with respect, fairly and kindly have been passed on to me through exemplary actions.  For me it always means more to me as a lesson when you see people displaying the actions they preach to me when they don’t know I’m watching. I want to be most like my Grandpa Willett. He is the rare type of person where there is always a tint of love in his voice.    This is how my roots have shaped me to become who I am today and who I strive to be tomorrow.

I also feel deeply rooted in Montana.  What makes me feel so connected to Montana is that the majority of interaction with all the people I love is based around activities that immerse you in Montana’s most beautiful country.  Whether it’s hunting in the fall on horseback way up in the mountains with my father, fly-fishing throughout the rivers of Montana with my friends and family, eating home cooked meals in my grandparent’s homey lake side cabin, skiing my grandfathers local ski resort and literally having my whole family up there, running the bird dogs, or out at the lake with friends escaping the summer heat, it all strengthens my love for Montana.  In Omeros when Philoctete is trying to make peace between Hector and Achille he says “they had a common bond between them: the sea.”(47) He is saying that because they both are deeply rooted to the sea that they are more alike then they think.  Having a strong connection to a place binds us to it and one another creating a root system that becomes a part of who you are.

Mr. Pinder has left and come back to the Eleuthera many times due to his roots.  He was raised here and the island has become such a part his lifestyle that he always comes back.  “I like the island life its free-er.” He said this to us when he was talking about his childhood and all the things he loved about the island.  I feel that I will be like Mr. Pinder though I may leave Montana it will always be my home. Just like island life is apart of Mr. Pinder, Montana life is apart of me and will always be deeply rooted in my heart.

My roots are a spider web of people and place creating what I call home.  They help me understand who I am by giving me guidelines on morality that now lay intertwined within my own heart.  Montana life runs through my veins giving me a home to always fall back on.  It also teaches me about beauty and what’s important in life.  My roots that have become a part of who I am and give me the strength and confidence to reach my full potential for success and happiness tomorrow.

Francisco Diaz:  What does it mean to have roots? The first thing that comes to my mind are the roots of a tree and how similar they are to my idea of “roots”. Roots are a tree’s beginning and they provide everything it needs to survive; roots provide the tree with support, nutrients and stability. Much like the roots of a tree my “roots” or where I come from provide the foundation for who I am and all that I do. Roots can be my family history, where I come from or even the connection I have with the places I have lived in. Roots are essential to what a man can do in his time here on Earth, without roots you have no beginning and without a clear beginning reaching a goal is almost impossible. Roots also heavily influence your worldview and how you interact with the world. This sense of roots is what brought great people like Edrin or Marco back to their home even after having great opportunities elsewhere. In our interview process for settlement day we learnt many things about Bahamian culture but only Marco mentioned in detail what roots meant to him.

During our settlement day interviews Marco discussed this idea and expressed an opinion I strongly agree with. When asked about the importance of family, Marko gave a complex answer about the importance of not only his family members but his home town “I could do wondrous things out there in the world, but if don’t take care of my home-base it’s worth nothing.” This whole idea of giving back to where you come from gives to the importance of roots in, not only Marko’s, but my life as well. Marko has realized his goal by moving back to his place of birth and opening a small shop where kids from the area can come and buy whatever they want without having to go to a nightclub. I hope to one day be able to help my “home” community in the same way Marko has. I have struggled with this goal because I have trouble identifying one “home base” as Marko would put it. In my lifetime I have lived in 5 different countries and gone to over 11 different schools. This has led me to have a different opinion than most on where and what I consider my home.

This constant change of location let me, in a way, grow roots and become familiar with many different places. Having a sense of belonging to so many different places makes the whole idea of home very difficult to define. Although I have lived in many places I only call Colombiahome. I think this is because I have the strongest roots or connections with it. It is the country I have lived in for the longest, and although it is not where I was born, all of my family was. This is why when someone asks me where I’m from I say Colombia, and not New Jersey, Florida, Argentina, Missouri, Illinoisor Venezuela. I think this opinion of myself as Colombian not only influences my life’s goals but my worldview as well. Viewing Colombia, as my home is why I want to one-day return to do for my “home-base” what Marko has done for his. In Omeros Walcott represents the importance of family and ancestry for a person’s roots through Major Plunkett’s obsession with his family history. He paid so much attention to his history he even gave his family tree a name, “ances-tree” (Walcott, pg. 87).  Although my connections to places are strong, my connections to the people I love and value are much more important to me. I was reminded of this by seeing Ebrin’s master grafting techniques, when we visited his farm. The fact that you can take one plant’s roots and use it to grow another plant in a non-ideal environment amazed me.  It is also a perfect representation of how another place’s roots, the people, can be used to grow a strong “plant” in a new place.

Seeing life this way is what allowed me to easily adapt to living in all new places so many different times. I think this view that picking up and moving has completely changed the way I see physical places and the people I interact with as well. Now I see people more as small roots I hold all over the world, while I see places more like the soil that these roots are in. The soil or location is essential to the roots survival and in my case their importance. Now I realize that the more roots I have in one place the more I can identify with that place. My view of roots and their importance is very different from most peoples. This is why I hold the people I care about so dearly because in many ways they are what make up my home.

Without my ancestors or the important people in my life I would not have roots. Without roots I would have no beginning and ultimately no end goals. This realization is what makes me want to give back not to the pace I come from but the people I care about who would benefit from it. This why Ebrin returned home to farm in Eleuthera, even though he had a job as an artist for an advertisement agency in America. This is why Marko decided to come back to Eleuthera and not only start the first bio-diesel program in The Bahamas but create a safe place for kids in his home settlement. This is why I want to one day be able to give back to the people who in many ways shaped and formed me to be all that I am and will be.

Prompt: Why is the sea valuable? Discuss different individual and cultural perspectives on the sea. Consider how your life experiences, as well as your learning in Histories, Literature, and Human Eco have impacted how you understand the value of the world’s oceans.

Mac McDonald:

My paddle dug into the muddy waters of the Mekong Delta, as I maneuvered amongst the floating homes. The children waved from the doorway of their school. Their school pitched in the ripples made by our canoes. The plastic jugs and Styrofoam, keeping the structure afloat, grumbled and moaned. Behind them I could see the desks, world maps, and chalkboard. Underneath the homes lay a world of sustainability. Giant nets filled with fish created the possibility of all this happening by creating an income for the village. Observing this world and perceiving how they utilize the sea through transport, income, religion, and as a base for their home, completely changed my thoughts on the ocean. I was able to realize how diverse the value of the sea truly is and in how many ways it can be manipulated for use.

The ocean is everything. It provides a livelihood and culture. The sea is a majestic world that yields jobs and a way of life. Nehemiah, a local fisherman and one who lives off the wealth of the sea, states that he enjoys nothing more than fishing in the waters of Eleuthera. Looking to the fiscal side of The Bahamas, the attraction to all tourists is the ocean and “tourism represents more than 50% of the annual gross domestic product, making tourism the largest single contributor to the country’s economy” (Buchan 2000, BEST 2002). Not only does the ocean subsidize fishing opportunities, but it also supports whole communities, including restaurants, local shops, and local guide companies. Like Nehemiah, it provides a way of life as well. In a reading on Bahamian culture, the culture is depicted as “it’s conch, it’s fish-and-grits, it’s Junkanoo…” (Bethel_ On Culture p.17) This quote connects to Omeros, as the characters’ whole way of life is based around the ocean. Walcott states, when defining culture, “Man is an animal suspended in webs of significance he himself has spun” (Clifford Geertz). Considering Omeros, the characters made the ocean a significant part of their life, therefore part of their culture. It provides a way of transport as well as a spiritual connection.

Personally, the value of the ocean is much like it is in the description of Bahamian culture, for Nehemiah, and in Omeros: it’s a way of life for me. The experiences I’ve had on and around the ocean have taught me more about myself then most other experiences I’ve endured. I have grown up sailing all my life on the Atlantic, off the coast of Fire Island. When I was young, I did not think twice about the worth of the ocean, not appreciating anything it had to offer. Last summer one of my best friends and I raced a 420 at a regatta about five miles away from Point O’Woods, the community where I live. We raced for about six hours, but when it came time for the tow back, we were told that it was too rough and windy for a tow and that we would have to sail back. By now it was about3 o’clock and the winds and waves had drastically picked up. It was blowing about 25 knots with waist high white caps. I was skippering and my friend, Will, was crewing, which required him to be out on trapeze holding on for dear life to a tiny metal cable. About one hundred feet offshore, we capsized. Will was thrown under the sail still attached to the trapeze, while I was chucked from the boat’s side. We both came up and were ok. We flipped the boat back up, struggled back in and made eye contact. We were going to conquer the water; we were going to overcome it. As soon as we made that decision, the boat started sinking from the waves crashing over the side. I yanked at the main sheet and pulled with every ounce of strength propelling us forward and the water out of the boat. I yelled at Will through the wind and crashing waves to get back out on trapeze or else we’d flip again. He clipped himself back in, but we hit a wave and he swung around the forestay and cut open his lip and leg. Meanwhile, his weight shift caused us to capsize again. Once again, we shinnied back into the boat and kept going. I had to hold the rudder with two hands as the water tried to rip it out of my hands. After three hours of sailing, capsizing twelve times, and multiple bruised body parts, we finally beached the boat at Point O’ Woods. Multiple times throughout the journey we wanted to give up, but we had conquered the sea. The value of the experience given by the ocean and the challenge provided a feeling that we both will never forget – having the knowledge of being down or behind and knowing that I am able to persevere and push forward.

In Omeros, the fishermen hold the ocean to such a high standard that the trees, in which they make the canoes out of, are referring to as gods. “The fisherman shouted…the gods were down at last” (Omeros p.6). Nowadays we hold the ocean to as high of a standard as it was back then, which is why regulations have been enacted. The government feels that the value of the ocean needs to be protected. Much like the conflict of industrial vs. nature in Omeros, there is a conflict amongst the government (industrial) and the fisherman (nature). In a documentary highlighting the point of view of the fisherman, the fisherman believe that the authoritative powers are overwhelming the fishing industry with too many regulations. They believe that “you can’t have every type of fish in the ocean at the same time” (Fisheries Documentary – Histories) and that data is collected in some box somewhere. The fisherman felt as if the regulations were completely unneeded, as they did not see a decline in fish. Talking to Nehemiah, a local fisherman who holds the sea to the utmost honor, believes that these regulations are needed. Nehemiah grew up into a fishing family, and couldn’t stay away from his true calling. He has three boys, and wants them to have the ability to fish the same fish he grown up harvesting. Nehemiah has seen a decline in fish, but since the regulations, he has noticed a steady comeback. Nehemiah has such admiration for the sea because of the value, which is the fact that it does provide for his family, community, culture, and country.

The ocean is everything. It provides a livelihood and culture. The sea supplies communities with a way of life. The value is close to me as it has enlightened to me of learning a life lesson of knowing that I am able to power through anything when pushed down or behind. It provides the people of Omeros with the culture of food, transport, and spiritual meaning. Amongst Bahamians, the ocean represents everything – their income, their sustainability, and their philosophy. Fisherman and government alike hold the sea to the highest esteem, but there is a loss amongst communication of what needs to be done. “We helped ourselves to these green islands like olives from a saucer, munched on the pith, then spat their sucked stones on a plate, like a melon’s black seeds” (Omeros p.25). The green islands are a reference to the sea, and if we keep helping ourselves to the olives, all we could be left with are the piths.

__________________

Lauren Maida:

How can a tangible presence that withstands time, geographical changes, millions of cultures and people, and has a personal meaning to every individual be valued? The sea has a relationship with everyone, even if one has never seen the rolling waves or felt the sea breeze, the sea brings breezes, weather, and a new opportunity for a whole new world to be explored.  The sea is this presence, and what makes it so valuable for me is that it connects me to the Mayans, Jesus, the Lucayans, Gandhi, Brad Pitt, and my family hundreds of miles away right now; World War II, the Nautical Race Around the World, the Trojan War, and my best friend sailing on the Barnegat Bay without me every Sunday in May.  The sea is valuable in many different ways, emotionally, monetarily, metaphorically or physically, but no matter which of the former applies, every living thing on Earth has a relationship with the sea in some way, fostering the need to conserve the sea for future generations.

The sea’s value comes partly from its ability to connect the past to the present, influencing the future.  Since time began, the sea has played a huge role in the culture of society.  The sea is a reoccurring theme in the New Testament, something especially emphasized in church last Sunday with new Christians being baptized in water on Easter. Especially this week on exploration time, I found a Lucayan artifact of an old conch shell with the top worn down, probably used for opening other conch shells for their meat, on my walk of Boy’s Dorm Beach.  Not only did it amaze me that I was touching something that the original Eleutherans had touched hundreds of years ago, but how we were so connected with the sea through our use of it.  Our connection to all of these different points in history and cultures helps reinforce for me that we are all equal, something we talked about in Histories this week.  If we all call upon the sea and immerse ourselves in it, how can we not help but have an ethnocentric view? Whether I am an Egyptian farmer waiting for the sea to flood my field and produce fruit or aNew Jerseyteenager who finds her only total escape by sailing the sea for hours on end, our cultures are linked and a mutual respect is formed by our understanding of the value of the sea. I have no idea the hardships of an oppressive government or the tension brought by a life completely dependent on nature’s bounty, and he knows nothing about growing up with a high expectation of achieving, experiencing, learning, and being better than everyone else in society like I have grown up with, but we have the common link that otherwise leaves us as strangers.  I realized that when I’m just hanging out on the beach and swimming on our run-swims, I’m not alone and I have no ownership over this outlet.  The sea is a piece of every person that has interacted with it, connecting all people together through a single medium.

Also, a really reassuring thing for me, being so far away from my family and best friend for an entire month during difficult times at home, is that the ocean feels like a second home to me.  When I am feeling overwhelmed by constant socialization that is The Island School or the freak-outs of feeling so disgusting and salty all of the time after morning exercise, my solo spot is the bench right behind the dining hall, giving me an uninterrupted horizon as far around as my peripheral vision, just the ocean.  I can’t remember a time when the sea wasn’t there for me; I am pretty sure it is the only thing that has listened to me sing Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” the whole way through with the world’s worst singing voice and the only one that will sit with me for hours in complete silence when I just get too tired of the burdens of life.

After reading about Achille’s personal reflection and realization that maybe Helen is not worth free diving to the sunken ship for treasure, I felt like Achille and I had a similar relationship with the sea. Achille is explained in the midst of his epiphany when Walcott says, “their coral eyes entered by minnows, as he hauled the lobster-pot, bearded with moss, in the cold shade of the redoubt,” showing that Achille takes a step back from his relationships to understand them, coming to the conclusion that his intentions for Helen are not as definite as he thought they were.  Sometimes my enthusiasm and fast-pace clouds me from really reflecting on my personal feelings and thinking through decisions I am making, but being surrounded by the sea allows me to calm myself down in devastating situations and look at the big picture of my life. For example, this summer I became really overwhelmed about colleges and what I wanted to do in the future, and it literally enveloped my mind constantly.  My personal therapy was to get away from my family and friends for an hour a day and float in the ocean.  For some reason, I was able to calm the triggers of anxiety in my mind and start to believe myself when I said that I was secure and I didn’t have to worry.  Looking back, this was a really important journey for me to go through before The Island School because it allowed me to open my more negative emotions that I don’t like to talk about.  Before that, the worst emotions I had experienced in my entire life originated from a sad Taylor Swift song after a boy I liked started dating a freshman in the fall, so my emotional state had changed from oblivious to engulfing in a matter of months.  Now I can continue to push myself in dealing with that other part of my mind, accepting that a person cannot be happy all of the time, and learning how to embrace hardships. Hopefully after Achille consistently keeps reflecting on his true emotions with the sea, his character will develop and become more level headed when it comes to fighting over Helen’s love with Hector, reflecting aspects of my emotional IslandSchoolexperience in Omeros. With that part of me opened up to the world now, I am excited to see how much more I can learn about myself and see how my therapeutic relationship with the sea grows with my discoveries of not only myself, but also of different perspectives of the sea.

Growing up summering on the Jersey Shore, the ocean has always been a coveted part of my summer that I missed the most when I left for school in the urbanized Princeton community.  On theJerseyShore, everyone’s perspective of the sea is similar, mostly entertainment, relaxation, and sport, but in my first month in TheBahamasI have been exposed to so many different kinds of Bahamians and their view of the sea.  Meeting Nehemiah and learning about his story, he encompassed many different perspectives of the sea.  As a child, the sea was a family tree for him, tracing his father and his father’s father back to fishing in the sea, but as he got older he saw the opportunities the sea brought for a family.  After going to Nassau as a young adult, he found his passion for fishing as a sport and then having a family he saw how fishing provided flexibility and a good living to sustain his family.  When talking with Nehemiah on the Cobia out to the spearfishing spot, I could see how fishing and the sea has become a part of his life that he does not appreciate as much as an outsider, but the gleam in his eyes when he told me about the 564 pound grouper he caught showed undoubtedly that this man encompassed so many parts of the sea in his own soul.  His value to the sea was like liquid gold, but the vision of him fishing as a small child in The Bahamas with his father brought his romanticized view of the sea that I was creating in my mind back to reality; back to a man with a spear in a bucket ready to hunt down a spiny lobster for a boat full of students anxiously awaiting his almost magical sea instinct.

The sea is so valuable because it relates people to people, place to place, and culture to culture.  The reason the sea is so valuable is because it cannot be valued in one currency.  The sea is worth 10,000 hugs to me, $200 a barracuda for Nehemiah, 300 conchs a season for the Lucayans, and 3 months of reassurance for my parents that when they look at the rolling, cobalt blue waves of the Jersey Shore, I am looking back at them from the turquois surf of The Bahamas and saying through my grin, “I’m right here!”

Prompt:  What is your worldview, how did it come to be, and has it been changed or challenged since you arrived at The Island School? 

by Lucy Cram:

I sit on the girl’s dorm deck looking out at the stars that shine more numerous and brightly than at home orNew Jersey, and the soft breeze drifts across my face and legs and I feel peaceful. The twinkling specks in the distance take me back to a spring morning ten years ago, when my father woke me up atfour a.m.to watch a meteor shower. I remember half sleepwalking to our dock, all the while wishing I were back in bed; however, as soon as I saw the shooting stars speed by me in such numbers, I was awake and happy. My dad has always tried to pass his love for the little things in nature along to me. Whether it is a ten-minute bedtime story about a fiddler crab, an emailed picture of the eagles nested near my house, or a paddleboard adventure around the marsh, he has always managed to make me look closer at things in life and show me beauty in just about anything. My father has always been a significant factor in the way I view and think about the world, but not the only one. Because I am still shaping the way I see the world, tons of things still have great effects on me: daily encounters, family, friends, strangers, classes, places, and global events.

Before one can understand my view of the world, he or she must understand where it comes from. I grew up along the marshes of Bluffton and went to school along the beaches of Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, a place that invites numbers of tourists each year to come build sand castles, climb up the Harbour Town Lighthouse, and most importantly buy a Salty Dog t-shirt. While they are extremely important for our economy and for my friends and my amusement, it has become extremely difficult to watch the influx of tourists create the demand for cheap villas and developments that destroy the land, my home. I have always hated to see my small town transform into strip malls, cookie-cutter homes, and see small businesses turn into chain stores, but it was not until I came to the IslandSchoolthat I fully realized the situation. In literature we discussed The Rediscovery of North America and Omeros, which both discuss the environment in different tones from what I am used to. In the latter, Walcott writes of Philoctete with “dew filling [his] eyes” as he “cut down them canoes,” and though he is sad to have to cut the trees down, the trees “feel not death inside them, but use” (p. 3,7).  Though it is an extremely different situation from mine, it is similar in the sense that we both hate to see the diminishment of our surrounding environment, but see that there are economic uses for the resources as well. This does not make it okay or by any means more sustainable, but as Lopez phrased it in The Rediscovery of North America, “we have made so extreme an investment in mining the continent that we cannot imagine stopping” (p. 45). It is something that we see as a problem, but can see no end because shifting our comfortable lifestyles would be a nuisance for some and an incredible burden for those who rely on the resources to make ends meet.

The destruction of the environment has become second nature to not just the tourists visiting, but me as well. In Histories the class discussed the poem “We and They” by Rudyard Kipling, who tries to bridge the gap between we, “All the people like us,” and they, “every one else.” I realized that my friends and I, the locals, had always seen the tourists, “they,” ignorant and destructive. How could I criticize the tourists, when I myself travel far and wide and use others’ resources? Before coming to The Island School, I always saw The Bahamas as a beautiful vacation spot, where people from all around go to relax and have a good time, but I never considered the people actually living here. For example, the conch fritters I ate the other day came from the diminishing conch population around the island, but had I not been taught about this ever-growing problem, I would not have realized I was doing anything wrong. So, now after “cross[ing] over the sea” I see “We as only a sort of They.” I had unknowingly been hypocritical about the people visiting my home, and while they should step back and think about their impact on my home, I need to do the same for places I visit.

In Human Ecology we considered some of the world’s great paradigms: the world being round, a heliocentric earth, and that climate change exists; and talked about what brought them about. They mostly came from acquisition of new knowledge, from collected scientific data to a conversation, and experiences, like a trip around resort ruins or a trip around the world. After gaining new local intellect and experiencing all that this Island has to and used to offer, I have come upon a personal paradigm, where I no longer think that change will come from worrying about your personal environment or condemning those that visit. It must come from communal efforts and local and global knowledge. Those that live on the land must teach, and those that visit must learn. I believe that if everyone were to do this, then great strides could be made in the conservation of the world my father taught me to see in such great light.

_____

Paul Henderson:

When considering what my worldview is, I must first come to a conclusion on what exactly a “worldview” is in the first place. The only definition provided to me reads as follows: “the framework of ideas and beliefs through which an individual interprets the world and interacts with it.” Before this very moment, I have never considered myself as ever having a “framework of ideas and beliefs” at all. I certainly know I have opinions and ideas, but never before have I really thought of them with the organization that the word “framework” implies. In fact, I have always imagined my ideas as an erratic pattern of beliefs, as opposed to anything that resembles order and consistency. The reason I seem to have had this belief about myself is that I have ideas that never entirely line up with any political party, religion or anything of that nature. I prefer to choose ideas I agree with from all different groups, and form my own opinion in that way. However, now that I consider it, maybe this strategy for formulating my opinions is a framework of ideas. Maybe all my ideas are related to each other as opposed to being separate entities. The subject that relates all of my opinions together, I think, is logic. Now, I understand I may not always be the most logical of human beings at times, as I can make pretty dumb decisions. However, in regards to most of my opinions and my worldview, I have used my sense of logic, however limited, to formulate these.

A good reflection of my worldview would be my views on politics and religion, as they are both opinions that shape my daily life. As far as my political views go, I am both Liberal and Conservative, and maybe a little Libertarian. I consider myself to be somewhat of a melting pot of what I believe to be the best, and most logical, of all these ideas. As far as religion goes, I was raised Christian, but using my sense of logic mentioned previously, I have come to my own conclusion about how I view the world. I am not religious anymore, but that is not to say I am not spiritual. I have done quite a bit of research in school and on my own on atheism as well as Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism and others. Just as I have done for my political views, I have taken ideas from all mindsets to formulate my opinions. My beliefs now are that just because I would like to believe there is a man in a white beard watching over us making sure I’m going to be all right, that should not make it anymore true. I think that if God is up there, why in the world would be create such terrible things that exist in the world today, such as disease and famine. At the same time, I feel extraordinarily lucky to have the life and privileges that I have today, and that gratitude is felt towards someone, even if I am not sure who or what that is. It’s all very confusing to me.

As I said before, prior to writing this piece I never before considered my worldview with the lens of having any sort of order. Now that I think of it though, classes at the Island School have helped me consider this worldview without even realizing it. The curriculum forces me to grapple with real world issues and this in turn makes me think about my opinions constantly. Without knowing it, I have slowly been coming to a conclusion about my worldview over the last few weeks. For example, in History we have been learning about interviewing and the personal histories of people in the Bahamas. Yesterday as we went into Rock Sound, I had a chance to encounter a friendly Bahamian family. Though they were very welcoming and nice, I found that they were very Christian, and many references to the Bible were made during our conversations. One particular point was brought up that farming should continue in the Bahamas because God told Adam to farm the land in the Bible. Though I did not necessarily agree with what they were saying, my “melting pot” mentality that I seem to have applied to myself really helped me find the sense in what they were saying. No, I do not think that the adventures of Adam and Eve should effect our decisions to farm the world today because no, I don’t think Adam and Eve were real. However, I am able to respect their opinions and therefore attempt to find the good in the message that the family was saying. I can respect spirituality and motivation, and that was certainly the sense I was getting from this family, even if I did not agree with everything they said.

Human Ecology has also had me consider my worldview by introducing me to the term “paradigm shift.”  Looking back, I have experienced many, many paradigm shifts throughout my life that have changed the course of actions I have taken. These can range from moments as small as the revelation of the existence of Santa to far more recent moments like failing to keep up with my classes at school right before I came to The IslandSchooland having to get myself in gear. I believe the second situation is one that truly describes how I have had to change how I see the world. If I had written this paper two months ago, it is likely I would have mentioned how incredibly lazy. That is not to say this part of my is gone, but my second semester this year was a wake up call that I needed to change how I saw everything, not just school. Though paradigm shifts usually refer to shifts in thinking of entire groups of people, it is moments like the one this year that make me look back on my former self with distaste and disbelief. Before taking Human Ecology, I had no idea that there was a name for such moments.

In Literature, the challenge that Omeros has offered me has been very significant to making me change my views. This is not necessarily a result of Omeros’ content, thought it is interesting, but more so by its difficulty. I have been forced to alter my study habits in order to allow myself more time to read it, and this, in effect, has forced me to undergo a great change. Even though we are very early in this book, the challenge it has offered me has been key to my growth in being used to larger homework assignments. Though this has little to nothing to do with the religious and political views I mentioned earlier in this essay, an important part of my worldview concerning schoolwork as been altered thanks to Omeros.

My worldview, though I may have never realized it before, does have some sort of order to it, and this order all already been effected this early in the semester by my classes. Human Ecology, Histories and Literature have all forced me to take a different look at situations that I have done so routinely in the past. Three weeks ago I had no idea what a worldview really was. Now, I am already finding out ways that it has changed. I guess that’s what the Island Schoold oes to you.

Last Weeks Prompt:  How has your experience within the Literature and Histories curriculum challenged the way you understand History and the past?

“Inspired by History” by Kate Maroni

I have studied history throughout my ten years as a student, yet one historical account remains the most prominent in my mind. My grandfather, Jacques Maroni, immigrated to theUnited Statesduring World War II because of the cultural oppression that existed inFranceat the time. He and his older brother were forced to leave their home at the ages of seventeen and nineteen. They both spoke very little English, which hindered their assimilation into the American education system. Eventually my grandfather was able to earn a spot at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and worked remarkably hard in the ensuing years. My grandfather has told me his historical background many times, and each time I am left feeling thoroughly impressed and exceptionally grateful. The emotions that are evident in my grandfather’s voice as he recounts his incredible life story allow me to appreciate the hardships that he has overcome in order to give our family the life that we have today. At The Island School, I have come to understand the reason why his historical background is so compelling in my mind. My grandfather’s story includes such powerful emotions, which enable me to better understand the level of difficulty he faced. Historiographers refrain from including emotion in their work in order to eliminate bias, however the reader is left without any real sense of emotion or personal account of what happened. The reader therefore is unable to grasp anything beyond the literal context.  There have been many moments throughout my Literature and Histories classes when I have felt especially inspired by history, and all of these moments have included profound emotions.

Plunkett from Omeros is a perfect example of how emotion and history are relevant to one another. Plunkett wishes that he had a son to carry on his family name, however Maud is infertile and consequently cannot provide children for Plunkett. “He set down his glass in the ring of a fine marriage. Only a son was missing” (Walcott 29). Plunkett spends a considerable amount of his time searching through textbooks, pamphlets and brochures in order to acquire a better understanding of his family history. Eventually after having visited the Military Hospital, Plunkett finds an entry from a book that causes him to become very emotional, “then he found the entry in pale lilac ink. Plunkett.  One for the lacy trough. Plunkett. His veins went cold…He had come far enough to find a namesake and a son. Aetat xix. Nineteen. Midshipman…Bless my unbelief, Plunkett prayed. He would keep the namesake from Maud” (Walcott 93-94). After having found out that his ancestor the Midshipman had a son, Plunkett instantly felt as if his world had been uprooted. In contrast to the lifeless textbooks that Plunkett had previously read, this historical account that was written as the actual history was occurring proved to be much more personal and moving.

Another particularly compelling moment in Omeros is when the author Derek Walcott and his deceased father Warwick have a discussion about how to best learn from our past, and how to ensure that future generations continue to benefit from such personal historical accounts.Warwick’s ghost relays the message that further emphasizes the importance of learning about history through people with a past. “…He had seen women climb like ants up a white flower-pot, baskets of coal balanced on their torchoned heads, without touching them, up the black pyramids, each spine straight as a pole, and with a strength that never altered its rhythm” (Walcott 73).Warwick is reinforcing the fact that it is Walcott’s duty to give a voice to his enslaved ancestors who were coerced into silence. “Look, they climb, and no one knows them; they take their copper pittances, and your duty from the time you watched them from your grandmother’s house as a child wounded by their power and beauty is the chance you now have, to give those feet a voice” (Walcott 76). Walcott has the opportunity through his poetry to recount the lives of his ancestors, “they walk, you write” (Walcott 75). Emotion is a pivotal aspect of poetry; therefore Walcott has the opportunity to create an enthralling account of the lives of his oppressed ancestors. Textbooks that strictly include factual information do not generate the level of sympathy within their readers that these women deserve.

On settlement day I was fortunate enough to meet Latisha, who spoke passionately about how the most effective way to learn about history is to fully immerse yourself in it. Latisha grew up in Grand Bahamas. She felt that growing up on the most developed island in theBahamasdeprived her of the rich cultural experience that is accessible to those that live on the outer islands. “On the outer islands you have history. The people will show you ‘this is where we did this.’ Home is just what they teach you in school, in Social Studies, if you pay attention. I find myself, now that I’m here on the outer islands, taking my time and looking at history and different things. As I learn, I show and teach my children, so that’s one of the reasons I’m glad they’re on the outer island, so that they’ll learn more about their culture through experiential learning.” Latisha found that studying history through textbooks in a classroom did not excite her; therefore she did acquire a deep appreciation for her culture’s history. However, when she moved to the outer islands and delved into the local community, she found that was able to gain perspective and understanding. Those that have inhabited the land in Rock Sound have established themselves as a part of the settlement’s history; therefore they are able to recall events with the emotion and individual perspective that history textbooks lack.

In the article “No Parece,” Edward A. Delgado-Romero discusses the oppression he was subjected to because of his Latino heritage. Both of his parents spoke Spanish, however “(they) saw their accents as a source of shame, and they made certain that their children would not stand out as different.” Edward’s parents consequently drummed any trace of a Spanish accent out of him. From an early age, Edward was under the misleading impression that he should be ashamed of his culture. Because of his traumatizing experience with cultural oppression, Edward spent the following years reclaiming his Latino heritage, as well as devoting his free time to outreach and retention efforts with minority students. Edward’s personal experience with his own culture’s history proved to be very emotional, and he therefore felt compelled to become an activist and work towards preventing ethnic oppression for future generations.

History can be told from many different perspectives and can be interpreted in many different ways. I have found throughout my time at The Island School however, that the most effective way to learn about history is from people with a past, because that way you are able to perceive their emotions. These emotions then resonate with you and enable you to empathize with them. The many individuals that I have been introduced to at The Island School, both through experience and literature, have felt a powerful connection to their own historical background, whether it be good or bad, because of the emotions they have felt pertaining to specific historical events. Understanding why people have felt the way they did can elucidate why certain historical events took place, and can also motivate you to help prevent oppressive history from repeating itself.