I had a fairly difficult time keeping things straight when I moved to Isle au Haut. I felt like every man I met was named Bill. I couldn’t get a grasp on some of the family histories (as the joke goes: we don’t have a family tree on the island, it’s a family wreath). But the hardest thing for me was separating what people told me about other people from my own experiences with them.
It’s inevitable that some folks will want to “help you out” by explaining every single rumor (true or otherwise) about certain other people. They think they’re doing you a favor.
While I am grateful to know things that are pertinent (for example, if there was a convicted murderer on island, I’d obviously like to know) others are just superfluous. People will warn you about this person and talk about the questionable decisions of another. Before you know it, you don’t even have time to make your own opinion of people.
Initially, I bought into it. I started avoiding this person because other people said I should. I would be friendly if our paths did cross, but our interactions were limited to a brief smile and wave.
I was certain this person didn’t even know my name. It took a run-in at a grocery store in Ellsworth for me to see how stupid I had been. This person and I bumped into each other in the checkout line. I was petrified. This person turned around and their face lit up as they said, “Megan! How nice to see a friendly face in the middle of the big city!”
I tried not to let my shock show as we continued carrying on a delightful conversation.
It was that moment that reminded me how immature I had been. I took my groceries and went back to the island with a new mindset. I was going to base my opinions of people strictly on my own experiences with them.
Did that mean I was OK with things that had been done in the past? Of course not. Did it mean that I agree with every decision every single person makes? Of course not. But no one is perfect—I certainly am not. Who am I to judge anyone for anything?
Maybe I’m naïve (okay, I’m definitely naïve), but I like to remind myself that everyone has someone who loves them. I opted to start following the Golden Rule and treat people the way I’d expect to be treated. I was amazed what started happening when I showed a little kindness.
Sometimes when people find out who I’ve had dinner with the night before, or who I was talking with at the store, I get “the look.” The one that says, “You really shouldn’t be doing that, I don’t like that person.”
And that’s OK. I’m well aware of why these people are divisive—if rumors are true, some things that have been done are incredibly hurtful. I would have a hard time forgiving had they been done to me.
We had a group of folks who are interested in moving to the island come spend the day with us earlier this week. I enjoyed meeting all of them—especially the 8-year-old girl. She and I clicked immediately. We spent time chatting about everything from American Girl Dolls to knitting.
At one point we were walking down the road and she pointed at one of these divisive people and asked, “What’s their name?”
I answered her.
The young girl responded with, “They look nice—everyone here is so great.”
Megan Wibberly is an Island Fellow on Isle au Haut through AmeriCorps and the Island Institute.