The Island
The Hurricane Island Center for Science and Leadership on Penobscot Bay, Maine.
My ocean-themed summer travels had an incredible “false start” of sorts. Every year, the Marine Biology class I teach at CSW spends about 10 days on Hurricane Island in Penobscot Bay, Maine. It is a spectacular, unique little gem of a site for science, outdoor leadership, environmentalism, tranquility, and connection to our natural megacosm.
We arrive with 9-10 high school juniors and seniors, take away their phones and other distraction-inducing devices, and let them get to know “the great outdoors,” each other, and themselves, such that most of them had never done before. They learn about marine invertebrates of the rocky intertidal zone and conduct a multi-day data collection. They engage in rock climbing and outdoor leadership exercises. They participate in gardening, composting, daily chores, and sustainability practices that quite literally support the entire island community. And they still have plenty of time to explore this idyllic little island with its own history and mysteries. By the end of the trip, most of the students had all but formed their own sovereignty, declared the island theirs, and had to be dragged in vehement protest back to Boston.
The joy I feel both on the island and witnessing the students in the aftermath is difficult to describe. Though I provide intellectual prompts, safety, and opportunity, the island’s incredible program, combined with the lack of electronic devices, comprises the real magic. I’m not being a trite Luddite here. Take away social media, texting, emails, and other devices that disconnect you from those around you and...you connect with those around you. This was not a group of students who started out as friends or who came from the same social circles at the school, but by the end of 10 days, thick as thieves. Nor am I suggesting that everyone should ditch their phones at all times, but maybe some of the time. Not a groundbreaking notion here.
What I tend to further reflect on while on Hurricane Island is just how simple my needs truly are. When you rely on a very finite amount of solar power and have to choose between charging your headlamp and using hot water, when you’re responsible for hauling your own trash off the island, when your schedule is dictated primarily by the sunrise and sunset, you think more deeply about what constitutes “need”. Going back to my “normal” life, I see so many redundancies, inefficiencies, and ways in which I am thoughtlessly wasteful. A new goal of mine is to be more mindful about my day-to-day “needs” and pare them down.
On my upcoming trip, I am eager to see how “needs” appear in the daily lives of the women I meet and learn from in the Salish Sea, Jeju, and Zanzibar. How do they get up each day and go to sleep each night? What resources do they think about the most throughout their day? What are they least concerned about using? Which needs weigh most on their minds?
I depart on June 21st for Seattle, and I feel that my 10 days with my intrepid students on Hurricane Island have already put wind in my sails and a spark in my mind. It doesn’t take long after returning from the Island each year for me to find myself talking like Jack from LOST….
