Wednesday, October 28, 2009

The First Two Months and All That Jazz: Installment I



(entry started 10/26/09, finished 10/28/09)





First of all, thank you to everyone who wrote me little notes in the comment section or via email about how much they enjoyed reading my last entry. I'm keeping this blog primarily to have a place where I can spill all my thoughts on everything that happens during the course of this IslandWood journey, but I also wish I could bring everyone I love here to share this incredible place with me, so knowing that you're reading my words and enjoying them is the next best thing.

Since I spent the whole last entry writing about the physical place of IslandWood, I feel like I should try to summarize what I've been doing here since I arrived on August 26th. Wow, today is October 26th. I just realized I've been here exactly 2 months.  In some ways it feels like it's just flying by. I already know that when the time comes to leave this place, I'll look back and wonder where it all went.  It will be one of those years that slips through my fingers like sand and I'll just have to scramble to catch as many seashells as I can as it goes by.  On the other hand, however, it feels like much more than 2 months have passed.  We've done so much and I've already learned so much that it seems impossible that it all fit into just a little over 8 weeks. Mind-boggling, in fact. I literally just counted the weeks on the calendar over and over again thinking I must be making a mistake somewhere since there's no way for it all to have fit. But it's true. 2 months. 8 1/2 weeks. 62 days. Countless moments of discovery.

The theme of the first week was "Sense of Place". It was a time for us to figure out where we had come, why we were here, and how this place was going to cradle our year of growth as educators and people. We did solo walks along the trails guided by notecards with inspirational and thought-provoking quotes, questions to ponder, and small actions to take, such as touching moss and counting the bird calls we could hear.  We were led through the forest blindfolded to touch various leaves, taste berries, wrap our arms around tree trunks, feel the soil, and other experiences excluding our sense of sight. At one point I was led to a small lean-to fort that had been made with sticks propped against a large Douglas Fir tree. I felt around blindly and figured out what it was then found the entrance and crawled inside.  I sat there with my back against the trunk imagining the small fort around me.  The staff ended the activity by leading us to a clearing among tall cedar trees, laying us down while still blindfolded, and sprinkling sticks, pieces of bark, and cedar sprigs on our bodies.  In the silence that followed, it felt like we were getting a glimpse of what it might feel like to return to the earth someday when our lives have been lived to their fullest.



The theme of the second week was "Making Connections".  Our 'Natural History & Ecology' and 'Classroom Management' courses started, both focusing a lot on small group discussions, interactive projects, and brainstorming sessions.  The grads come from a wide variety of backgrounds, and those backgrounds began to come out of the woodwork during the class discussions as people talked about different experiences they had had while teaching public school, doing scientific fieldwork, working at summer camps, being part of co-ops, living on the streets of Seattle, being in the army, being home-schooled, working at bike shops, rehabilitating wild animals, and hailing from all parts of the U.S. As I began to get to know my fellow grads both in the classroom and out, I got more and more excited about this eclectic group of people I was going to be spending the next 10 months with.



During the second week, we also got to know the rest of our IslandWood family a little better at the 'All Staff and Grad Picnic'. We traversed the grounds on a geo cache hunt in teams then ate catered Mexican food while the sons and daughters of staff broke open piñatas and made ice cream in ziploc bags filled with ice and rock salt. That weekend brought an intensive Wilderness First Aid training, which counted as Wilderness First Responder re-certification for me. The 16 total training hours were chock full of acronyms to help us remember treatment protocol (ABC = airways, breathing, circulation & R.I.C.E. = rest, ice, compression, elevation), practicing bandage wraps on each other, and lots of fake injuries, blood, and symptoms that we had to treat in outdoor scenarios. It was a lot to re-learn and remember in two days but I passed my re-certification practical skills exam and written test, so I guess I could save someone in the backcountry if it came down to it.  I hope....

During these first few weeks, there was a prevalence of blackberries along the trails, beside the roads, and around the graduate commons so we all had perpetually stained fingertips, ate homemade blackberry jam, and watched the fawn triplets and their mother nibble the sweet berries off the vines.


The third week was a blast. Since we here at IslandWood are big believers in experiential learning, what better way to learn how to teach IslandWood curriculum to 4th-6th graders than to be the students ourselves?! So that week, we split into groups with staff instructors to simulate a condensed School Overnight Program (SOP) week, so for four days we got to be the kids!

We cranked the Floating Classroom to the middle of the pond to take water samples.

We collected water invertebrates to inspect under microscopes.

 We hiked down to the harbor to look for crabs and measure the tidal changes, we did a scavenger hunt at the cemetery, we learned the ABCs of the ecosystem (Abiotic, Biotic, Cultural), made a model of the watershed, did mind-maps in the Treehouse and the Learning Tree, ate in the dining hall, sang songs at campfire, and slept in the bunk beds in the student lodges on-campus.

  It was a full and exhausting week but very fun since we were experiencing so many aspects of IslandWood that we had only heard about, but now were living! Plus, it was one big grad slumber party the night we spent in the lodge since we're never all together at night since some grads live off-campus and even those who live on-campus are split up among cabins and the grad lodge. I slept in a room with Ally, Lindsey, and Minna, who are three off-campus grads. It was interesting to talk to them as we drifted off to sleep that night about our reflections of the program so far, our hopes for the year ahead, and the differences between on and off-campus living.

The following weekend, I had my first big excursion into Seattle.

I stayed with Katya in her little studio apartment and helped her adopt a cat from the Humane Society (who now has a wonderful new home with Hillary, the IslandWood graduate program coordinator since Katya couldn't keep her).

I went out to dinner at an open-air Mexican restaurant with Yitka, then we went to Gasworks Park to see the cityscape at night. As we stood in the grass chatting with a homeless man who had struck up a conversation with us and taking pictures of the silhouettes of families and friends enjoying the night on one of the hills, we glanced up at the night sky and saw the longest, brightest shooting star we had ever seen! It started on one side of the sky and shot across the darkness with a brilliantly bright tail trailing behind and fell almost to the horizon! It was so long that we heard the exclamations of people all over the park as others pointed it out to them.  Later, one of my professors told me that he had read in the newspaper that it wasn't actually a shooting star and was really a Japanese satellite at the end of its lifetime crashing through Earth's atmosphere!



Sunday morning I went out to French brunch with Rachel, who I haven't seen for three years.


Then Katya and I explored Pike Place Market, had delectable corn-on-the-cob Ecuadorian style with fresh cheese, and generally wandered around the city getting to know Capital Hill and Downtown Seattle.

Katya and I finished the weekend off with fancy drinks at the Tex-Mex restuarant her boyfriend works at then booked it back to the apartment so I could catch the ferry with Sarah.

I came back to the island that evening and went apple-picking with Minna, her daughter Anneli, and Ally the following morning. Minna's dad owns the Northwest College of Art so we strolled around the college's old estate land, picking wormy apples, unripe pears, and sour crab apples and climbing cedar boughs. It was a nice casual way to get to know all of them, plus I got a bagful of fresh apples and pears out of it!


The next week, we were split into the cohorts that we'll be in for the whole fall quarter, Cohort A and Cohort B. The cohorts have now have been given a variety of nicknames, such as (in A & B order) Cohort H2O (due to the torrential rainstorms that have occurred their teaching weeks) & Cohort H1N1 (due to swine flu sweeping through our cohort), Cohort "My golly, there's something really incredible going on here" (I have no idea why) & Cohort Survivors (due to us surviving swine flu, a horrible car crash, and an owl attack, respectively, all within the last month). Cohort A's mascot is the Unicorn and Cohort B's mascot is the Tiny Horse (long story... stemming from our Natural History class on tracking). I'm in Cohort B and there's definitely some competition between the two cohorts, although it's all playful. As you can see, a tiny horse is not afraid to take on a huge unicorn. ;)


Anyways, that week (Sept. 14), we were split into our cohorts. My cohort spent that week learning about our liaison duties, observing a liaison visit at a school in Seattle (which turned out to be my liaison school, Roxhill Elementary!), getting our UW orientation since we're technically also UW grad students, having more 'Natural History & Ecology' and 'Classroom Management' classes, and then rejoining Cohort B on Friday for training on how to use and debrief the Teams Course with kids. The Teams Course is a low ropes course with element names like Nitro, Islands, Mohawk Walk, Whale Watch, and Spiderwebs, all involving some challenge for a team to accomplish by working together. For instance, on Mohawk Walk, the team must get all members from the beginning to the end while tightrope-walking a foot off the ground between a few trees by holding onto each other and dangling ropes. The kids learn a lot about teamwork from the Teams Course and sometimes magic can happen with groups you never thought could work together but somehow pull through and form a bond that lasts the rest of the week.
(a small section of Mohawk Walk)


That weekend, most of the grads and many of the education staff went camping on Dungeness Spit, up near Sequim. I carpooled with Ilya, Minna, and her adorable 2-year old daughter Anneli.  A major bridge was stuck open on the way up, so we sat in traffic for a couple hours and then later got lost while trying to find the campground but we had a blast joking around and walking Anneli up and down the side the road while waiting for the bridge.




I ended up starting to get sick the first night of camping, so I went home the next afternoon instead of staying the whole weekend like originally planned, but it was still fun with a boisterous group around the campfire the first night and a blustery hike along the ridge above the spit the morning before I left.

I spent the next few days with a moderate case of swine flu, being the fourth grad to come down with it. It  spread like wildfire, especially in Cohort B, and about half the grads ended up coming down with it at some point.

When I finally started feeling better, I joined in mid-week to shadow IslandWood alumni who had come back to teach a week of SOP so that we could see what a real SOP week is supposed to look like with kids and an experienced instructor. The alumna I shadowed was named Corwine and she was great! We figured out that we had actually met briefly last January when I toured campus and she had shown me her cabin, which turns out is Sarah's side of my cabin this year! Corwine had a real knack for working with the kids. Our group was from St. Thomas independent private school and consisted of very smart, goofy, creative kids. Corwine, Greta (who was shadowing with me), and I had a lot of fun with our St. Thomas kids and it was fantastic to finally be in the field with kids! My first experience with an actual SOP campfire was wonderful. The kids performed all the songs and skits, and they were hilarious! I sang, cracked up, and cheered, and then was contentedly reflective during the closing slideshow of pictures of the kids exploring IslandWood all week. I learned a lot from observing Corwine, although I wish I had not been sick because I missed out on a couple days of shadowing her that I think would have been very valuable.



That weekend, I went into town for a bit with Susie and Greta while the weather was still nice to experience the Farmers Market and Mora's infamous ice cream, which seriously deserves the reputation. I had one scoop of sabayon (marsala wine and egg custard) and one scoop of Mexican chocolate on a gluten-free cone. Blissfully delicious!


And that concludes the first installment of my 2-month reflection! I've already written the second installment, but I didn't want to overwhelm you by posting a single entry that would take ages to read so I'll post the second installment in a few days.

Thanks for reading, everyone!

As always, I love hearing your thoughts and feedback, so please don't hesitate to drop a quick comment.

Love to all,
Zoë








Wednesday, October 14, 2009

IslandWood is Home

Since the moment I arrived, I've wanted to put my thoughts on my life here into words.  This place has affected me so profoundly even though I've only been here for exactly 7 weeks today.  The time has simply flown and I can already sense that a piece of my heart will remain here no matter where the rest of my life takes me. IslandWood has become home faster than any other place I've lived in my life outside of Portland.

I'm living in a cabin on the edge of the forest. A mother deer and her triplet fawns often come graze and nibble blackberries in the meadow in front of my cabin.


All around are towering Douglas firs and Big Leaf maples, which are currently swaying precariously in the high gusts of wind that are accompanying the torrential rain storm we've been having today. But oh wait! Patches of blue are now wafting overhead between puffy gray rain clouds. Even though I like autumn with its fiery leaves floating down to earth and the dried cornstalks propped against porch railings and piles of big orange pumpkins heaped at farm stands, there's always a part of my that clings onto the sunny flip-flop carefree weather of summer. I never want to say goodbye to the days of swimming in rivers, barefoot beach walks, sunny harbor kayak explorations, and late-night campfire gatherings, even though I know it's just for 7-8 months. So as much as I love the sound of rain on my roof as I'm falling asleep and puddle jumping, I can't help but smile as periwinkle blue sky and bright sunshine push through the storm.


(the left side is mine)

Ah, but I've been distracted. Back to my cabin. The front faces southwest so the afternoon light streams through the large picture window and higher row of three smaller windows, warming the interior of my cabin with a golden glow. When the sunshine comes in at just the right angle, it hits the mini disco balls I've hung from the rafters and sends dancing sparks of light swirling around my room, sometimes to a dizzying effect. I've decorated with lots of bright colors—reds, turquoises, oranges, yellows, blues, and pinks—so that I can walk into my room and step into an exotic land out of the rainy pacific northwest rainforest. I tucked all sorts of inspiring and memory-provoking mementos high and low, including photos of those I love, the Ecuadorian flag, the parasol I got in Chile, my Indian tapestry, soul collage cards, prayer flags and framed Z, O, Ë photos from Audrey, my "Always Evolve" painting on a wood cookie from Lili, my afghan my mom made me freshman year of collage, an Otavalo tablecloth, and lots of cards, letters, and images that I've received throughout the years. The furniture that came with the cabin is all made from Red Alder branches and saplings from IslandWood's land and is well crafted to show off the bark and varying colors of wood. And to top off the room, I have a small lemon tree that my mom gave me as a cabin-warming gift in a bright yellow pot on the side-table next to me. For the first month I was here, the lemon tree was blooming and filled my cabin with the sweet scent of lemon blossoms. Now, the blossoms have fallen, but a bouquet of sweet peas from the Bainbridge Farmers Market is perfuming my cabin nicely.







I moved my bed up to the loft where I tucked it next to the window. Now when I lie in bed, it's like a treehouse because I gaze out into the leafy branches of Red Alders on the edge of the forest behind me. In the mornings, birdsong from amidst the branches greets me and sometimes at night the loud hooting of barred owls echoes through the darkness. The cabin's water heater if up in my loft, and I've grown to be comforted by the tick-ticking it makes when it's warming up as it means hot showers and warm radiative heating from pipes in the floor.




The cabin building is divided into two halves, kind of like a duplex. I have one side and my cabinmate Sarah has the other. We have separate entrances and separate living spaces and lofts, but share a bathroom, to which we have separate doors. Sarah and I get along quite well and agree on the living expectations of sharing a space. We're very similar in many ways but also have taken different paths to get to IslandWood, so every conversation with her brings reassuring confirmations but also new insights and ideas to mull over. We've had a few cozy movie nights and a couple nice cabinmate dates. The first was out to 122 Winslow, a small fancy restaurant in town where I had the best salad of my life—a warm smoked trout salad with apples, bacon, potatoes, and balsamic onion vinaigrette.  The second cabinmate date was to the Treehouse Café, a little spot in Lynwood with a warm ambience.  We perched on tall chairs tucked in the back and talked over blackberry crisp and the dreamiest soy caramel steamer of my life. I like having my own space in the cabin, but I also really like having Sarah so nearby. We both need to spill our thoughts on the day's happenings some evenings when we come home so it's nice to have someone I trust, respect, and enjoy to do that with. We've both expressed that we're very excited to get to know each other more and I can't wait to continue to do that!




About 200 feet along a skinny path from my cabin is the Graduate Commons, where I share a kitchen, living room, study, and laundry room with the 15 other grads who live in cabins. Sounds pretty hectic, and sometimes it is, especially during dinner or breakfast rushes, but most of the time it's not too bad because we all eat at slightly different times so usually there are only 1-2 other people preparing food at the same time as me, while 1 or 2 others eat at the dining tables or hang on the couches or use the computers in the study. There are three fridges and plenty of food storage closets so we all have our own shelves, so that's not a problem. Plus, there are two stoves, two ovens, two microwaves, two toasters, and two sinks, so it's rare that there's an appliance someone needs that's too full to be used. The kitchen can get pretty messy but everyone seems to pitch in a fair amount to do general tidying and we all have assigned Commons jobs that rotate every two weeks. Even when it gets messy, it's not too irksome since I don't have to live there. I can always do some cleaning then escape back to the peace and order of my cabin. It's nice to have two different parts of my home, though. When I feel like being social, I can go to the Commons. If I need some time to chill by myself, I can hang out in my cabin. It's a good balance.





There's also a vegetable garden next to the Commons, so I've enjoyed fresh cucumbers and tomatoes, and others have harvested a lot of chard and kale. I also try to hit up the Farmers Market in Winslow on Saturdays if I can to stock up on other local fruits and veggies. I love fresh produce!



IslandWood itself is beautiful. Beyond words. There are 255 acres of gorgeous temperate rainforest, cattail marsh, bog, pond, ravine, and meadows, and miles of trails. But it's not just land; there are venues to use scattered about that kids helped design to add whimsy and exciting learning experiences. On the edge of the bog, a treehouse wraps around one of the tallest Douglas firs at IslandWood.

 




A bird blind perches on the shore of the marsh, with eye slots cut out at two heights so both adults and children can watch the red-winged blackbirds, kingfishers, wood ducks, and herons without the birds noticing their presence.




Stretching about eighty feet above the ravine is a suspension bridge that, although very sturdy, sways and bounces with excited kids on it. The floor of the bridge is metal grate so the kids can lie down and gaze through the holes at the stream at the bottom of the ravine, while feeling like they are levitating in the air.




Although kids helped design all of IslandWood, one of their most creative contributions was the floating classroom on Mac's pond. It's a square wooden raft with benches along the sides that detaches from the dock and can be moved along two underwater wires into the middle of the pond by students turning big metal cranks. Once in the middle, the kids can take water samples by lifting hatches in the floor.




Over 150 high, reaching above the treetops is the canopy tower which was just completed this year. I've heard watching the sunrise from up there is magical, although I have yet to do so myself. In one of the side ravines is the Learning Tree, which is a classroom on stilts, parallel to the tree branches with a deck encircling a hexagonal classroom with big windows and skylights.




On the edges of IslandWood's land are a historical cemetery and Blakely Harbor. Although not technically IslandWood property, these are great venues for teaching the kids about Bainbridge history. The cemetery has headstones dating back into the 1800s, some in Japanese and some clustering in familial groups with tiny headstones for babies.  There's a Jewish section with piles of smooth round stones placed upon the headstones. There are also two graves of native women who had converted to Christianity and wanted to  be buried in a Christian cemetery but were denied because they were native and so were buried right on the other side of the cemetery property line in the shrubbery on the edge of the forest.




Blakely harbor is a fun place to take the kids. It used to be the site of the largest mill in the world and still has all sorts of remnants and evidence of this, such as old water-worn bricks, the base wood beams of the mill buildings, and the skeleton of the electrical plant. The kids to get guess what happened there, then we show them a video of the mill's history when we return to campus. They also get to explore, climb on rocks, and seek out scurrying crabs.






The main campus itself is incredible. All the buildings are LEED gold-certified or higher. For those of you who aren't in the environmental spectrum, that means that they're all very sustainably built. Think sheets of solar panels on the roofs, a living machine to recycle wastewater, big windows facing south to collect light and heat, radiative floor heating, composting toilets, sustainable and/or recycled materials used, etc. And the best part of how sustainable the buildings are? All of the workings of the buildings that make them so sustainable are openly viewable instead of hidden behind walls so that the kids can see and learn what's happening. The main campus buildings are: the Dining Hall, the Admin building, the Learning Studios (where my graduate courses take place, the prep room for teaching is, and the microscope labs and classrooms for kids are located), the Welcome Center, the Art Studio, the Great Hall, Bluebill Cove (conference hall), and four lodges for kids and other guests to stay in (Invertebrate Inn, Birds Nest, Mammals Den, and Ichthyology Inn). Besides being sustainable, all buildings are beautiful and put off a very homey vibe.
Admin Building


Dining Hall


Art Studio


Learning Studios


Ichthyology Inn


The dining hall staff cook incredibly delicious food. As a grad, I only eat in the dining hall when I'm teaching the school overnight programs I am so well-fed during those weeks! They mostly make comfort food so the kids don't get homesick, which includes dishes like pancakes, bacon, sausage, fruit salad, and muffins for breakfast; sandwiches, chips, fruit, and cookies for lunch; and roast turkey, mashed potatoes, tacos, pizza, veggies, brownies, and homemade ice cream sandwiches for dinner. Sounds like pretty general camp fare but even though the dishes are common, the way the kitchen makes them is not. They use as many local and/or organic ingredients as they can and really put effort into making the food good. They don't think, 'Psh, it's just for kids, it doesn't have to taste good.' They value the kids just as much as anyone and really put effort into it. Plus, they pay extremely close attention to any dietary restrictions anyone has, which means that I don't have to skimp at meals just because I can't eat gluten! They've made me gluten-free pizza, polenta dishes, rice bread, gluten-free muffins, portabella mushroom pizzas, flourless chocolate torte, and chocolate mousse! I'm so grateful!



There's also a garden on campus. It's much, much bigger than the graduate garden since it used to both educate the kids and to provide some of the food used in the dining hall. It has a beautiful fountain, a cob oven, many beds full of lettuce, herbs, pumpkins, garlic, kale, chard, sunchokes, cauliflower, broccoli, beets, sunflowers, apple trees, bay leaf trees, jasmine vines, blueberries, cranberries, squash, peppers, nasturtiums, onions, comfrey, tomatoes, potatoes, and so much more! There's also a very high tech greenhouse that self-monitors everything from ceiling covers to ventilation slats and is filled with plants that prefer warmer climates like papaya, ginger, cactus, and stevia, which is so yummy! Just a teensy piece of stevia leaf fills your mouth with a strong sugary flavor! Not only do the grads have full access to the garden next to the Commons, since we maintain that one, but we're also welcome to help ourselves to the plentifully growing goodies in the campus garden too.






And I can't forget about the Friendship Circle! The Friendship Circle is where the kids and instructors all gather every morning for songs and an introduction to the day, and is also the place where Wednesday night campfire takes place, almost entirely filled with kid produced songs and skits, with the grads opening and closing the campfire with traditional African drumming. The Friendship Circle is a place of lots of music, smiles, and laughs.


(at Wednesday night campfire, there IS an actual fire,
this picture is from a morning gathering)

IslandWood is wonderful. I just can't get enough of the seas of ferns, the huge yellow Big Leaf maple leaves drifting to the ground, the rainbow of hemlock needles tucked into the crevices of roots, the spotted banana slugs plugging along, the fluttering Red Alder leaves spotting the canopy, the symphony of bird songs weaving through frog croaks, the nonchalant gaze of a black-tailed deer as she looks up from her munching, the barnacles polka-dotting every rock and brick at the harbor, the owls, bald eagles, ospreys, and great blue herons that grace us with their soaring presence, the towering Douglas Fir trees, the graceful Western Red Cedars, the funky-looking mushrooms that pop up overnight, the hammering of woodpeckers and sapsuckers ringing through the trees, the coziness I feel in every building especially my cabin, and above all the freshness of the air, pure and rejuvenating.





That's all I'm going to write for now because this entry is long and it's late. Hopefully this gives you an idea of my world right now. I'll write about the people I share this world with and everything I've been doing in it in the next entry or two. For now, just know I am happy and picture me in all the places I've just described.

Love to all. I hope you too are happy wherever you are.

Thanks for listening.

~Zoë