I’m not one to cry. My go-to response is sarcasm. But every once in a while something does manage to move me to tears. This time it was an informal Isle au Haut town meeting that did me in.
Out of respect for the community and families involved, I’m not going to go into much detail. All you need to know is that a man who had harmed members of this community had finished serving his time in jail and moved back to the island two weeks ago. And after a week of whispers and anxiety, an informal town meeting was held so that residents could express their feelings and determine what course of action, if any, could be taken.
Given the nature of my job, I’m not allowed to voice an opinion about sensitive issues. I’m not supposed to be seen as taking sides. For those reasons, I opted to skip the meeting.
As usual, I hosted library hours this week. Ed and I chatted about the freak snowstorm we had that morning. He said, “But you know, dear, with that one-inch of snow covering the ground, I actually noticed the blades of grass poking up. I hadn’t looked twice at them before.”
But despite avoiding the meeting, word about its outcome spread quickly, as happens on an island. The upshot was that residents overwhelmingly wanted this man to leave.
There was nothing they could do legally, but they were hoping if they talked to him, expressed how deeply committed they were to their stance and explained why they felt that way, he might decide to do the right thing and go.
He did listen and two days later left the island.
To an outside eye it may not seem like a huge deal. People get together and voice opinions all the time. What makes this so special? And of course they should have asked him to leave. The choice seems very black and white.
But what it more complicated was that this man was a member of the community. He grew up here. His family still lives here. This is the place he has always called home. And that familiarity created a gray area, leaving many people feeling very conflicted. Do you support an old friend as he rehabilitates and help him transition back into society, or do you stand with the victims and ask him to leave?
On Isle au Haut this week, a group of people who in some cases won’t even acknowledge each other as they stand together at the mailboat dock banded together and said no to this man. They wanted better for their community. It seemed instinctive.
Yes, they were looking out for themselves, but they also were there to show support for a few island families directly affected by this man’s return.
When your town is made up of just 40 people, the presence of one person can have a very large influence.
You can’t avoid anyone out here. There’s always the very real possibility of running into that person on the boat, at our one small store or along our one road. By standing with these families, who politely yet firmly expressed their positions, very clear lines were drawn regarding what the island would and would not accept.
I am in no way advocating a real world “Survivor” scenario in which folks are “voted off the island” on a regular basis. But in this case, as one resident put it, the needs of the community outweighed those of the individual.
It’s been a long two weeks for the folks of Isle au Haut—and certainly for a few families in particular. You could easily have cut the tension around town with a knife. But with the pain comes the reminder that folks out here, when push comes to shove, will stand with each other. And that’s a heart-wrenchingly beautiful thing.
Megan Wibberly is an Island Fellow on Isle au Haut through AmeriCorps and the Island Institute.