If you were to ask me a year ago today how I felt about boats, open water and the use of ferries as a regular form of public transportation, I would have begun shaking my head, gesturing with my hands, and saying “Nope. No. ABSOLUTELY NOT.” To say I wasn’t their greatest fan is an understatement.
This, however, did not prevent me from applying and accepting a two-year fellowship on the beautiful island of Islesboro. Did I know it was beautiful before my first day in September? Nope, I had never been there, but my immeasurable amount of Google searches suggested a flourishing rural community, breathtaking sunsets and all the tranquility I thought Maine should hold. I knew this is where I wanted to spend my next two years, and I wasn’t going to let my trepidations stop me.
Needless to say, I left West Virginia ready for my new adventure—that was until I pulled up to give my ticket to the ferry worker. “Down the center, Ma’am” has never sounded more frightening.
I quickly drove forward, thought there’s no way I wasn’t hitting the car in front of me and phoned my parents for moral support.
It was the longest 20 minutes of my life and no one warned me that we would be “bumping” our way into port—definitely the closest I ever want to get to having a heart attack. In my mind, we crashed and everything I had learned from watching Titanic would come in handy. What can I say? I come from a landlocked state and movies were all I had to go on.
Soon after, I had recounted my story to people and received chuckles and reassurances that everything would be OK. It wasn’t until I was chatting with a group of second and third graders that I really started to believe those encouragements. After telling my tale, one young girl quietly said, “You don’t have to worry; I’ve been doing this since I was a baby. I get scared sometimes, but my Mommy tells me those ferry guys really know what they’re doing.”
With those words, I now venture to and from the mainland like a pro, except when the wind is from the south. That rollercoaster ride is no laughing matter.
I know my reasons for being on Islesboro: to assist with connecting mainland resources to residents; to help provide a more sustainable environment for families to remain on island; and to make resources more readily accessible and centralized for parents and children. I can firmly attest that I am in the process of doing each of those and a bit more.
From compiling a working social services directory for public and professional use to providing individualized academic support to local students, I have been doing all I can to fulfill my role to the best of my ability. I even teach an adult education line dancing class and am helping to coach the ultimate Frisbee team.
However, I wasn’t prepared for what Islesboro would give me: a welcoming community that has quickly turned into a secondary family; a safe place to step out of my comfort zone and grow both personally and professionally; and a secure foothold to conquer my many reservations.
Although I hope that my work here will make a difference and the mark I leave will surpass my time on Islesboro, I know that the people in this community will go on thriving because like I was told, they have been doing it since they were babies and those guys really know what they’re doing.
Kendra Jo Marsh is an Island Fellow on Islesboro through AmeriCorps and the Island Institute.