I spent the majority of my academic career examining large-scale concepts and ideas through micro-level controlled experiments. Having to arrive at an answer for a question you’ve posed about an overarching theoretical concept is very daunting. You have to start small. It’s through specific experiments that you can begin seeing the larger picture.
Upon moving to Isle au Haut I thought this same idea would apply. I would be able to take what I learn in this very small, controlled environment and apply it to life on the mainland.
On the one hand, yes. I’ve been able to learn about town governance, interpersonal relationships, community and education in such an intimate way. This experience is allowing me come to a greater understanding of how such things work in the “real world.” But sometimes it works the other way. Sometimes the larger picture helps me appreciate the smaller one.
When I’m bogged down by island drama, when I feel like the only scenery I’ve seen for the past two weeks is the 1-mile stretch of road between my house and the dock, or when I feel absolutely suffocated by isolation, I pack a bag and spend the weekend on the mainland.
I recently had such a weekend. I opted to visit my boyfriend and we took a road trip down to Camden. We spent the day exploring and hiking around in Camden Hills State Park. It was from the top of Mount Battie that it hit me. I was sitting on the ledge of that great old stone tower looking out at Penobscot Bay. I could see almost everything—Blue Hill, Mount Desert Island, Swan’s Island, Stonginton, Vinalhaven, North Haven and Isle au Haut. I knew Great Cranberry, Islesford and Frenchboro were there somewhere, and I could even make out Matinicus.
You’d never know from looking at those islands from that great a distance that life exists out there. You’d never know that there are schools, community gardens, libraries and old beat up trucks. You’d never know how much planning goes into things like trash removal and recycling. You’d never know how even the simplest of tasks for a small business owner is made more difficult when you have to rely on a boat schedule.
It’s easy to get stuck in your own island universe. Seeing all those communities spread out before me was very reassuring and served as a good reminder that there are other islands and islanders. Suddenly the drama, the community struggles and the isolation didn’t feel so overwhelming. Instead, I felt a sense of pride.
Sometimes stepping back and realizing you’re just a small part of a much larger picture can do wonders for morale.
It all comes down to perception.
Megan Wibberly is an Island Fellow on Isle au Haut through AmeriCorps and the Island Institute.