TO THE POINT

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Thanks,
Libby

Nothing beats the smell of bicycle chain grease in a Maine winter. My hands are charcoal colored, a byproduct of my work and play from the afternoon. I look around me and I see over thirty bikes, some in good condition, and others in need of repair. This bike shop at Chewonki did not exist a year before, until my current Natural History teacher, Peter Sniffen, thought that it would be a better use of his basement of his house to convert it into a bike repair shop for the entire community. Yes, nearly the entire faculty lives here on campus, a characteristic that opens up so much more opportunity for student-teacher relations and fun weekend activities. Anyways, I spent almost seven hours of my time in the bike shop this weekend because I had just gotten cleared by bike aficionado Peter to work in the carefree basement whenever I wanted to.

My passion with bicycles did not start here but Peter’s effort into his bike shop has instilled a new love of bikes in me. Today when I was working on bikes that are lent to students to go on casual rides around the Neck and to go to Shaw’s, I could not help but thinking how much I was learning while working on these bikes. I educated myself about the kinds of brakes different from my own brakes and I admired the simplicity of some retro bikes that Chewonki owns. And that is what this place is all about: learning because you want to.

The most liberating moment of the day was when I fixed a cantilever brake on a decade old Schwinn. The day before I had looked over the brake and played with the parts for twenty minutes, deemed it was not fixable, and moved on to other bikes. Today, Peter encouraged me to look at it again, also not knowing if the brake would ever work. He left me to my own devices and I stepped back to take a general perspective. I soon deemed that I could adjust the brake in a way that I had never thought of before. The Schwinn is in perfect working condition now. I hope that my efforts will give others the chance to experience the feeling of self-empowerment these bikes have given me.

-Callum McCulloch, Woodside, CA

Every other Friday, instead of going to a regular Natural History of the Maine Coast class, we spend the hour at our phenology spots instead. The phenology project is where we go to a spot chosen on Chewonki Neck alone and without the distractions of homework or music players, and completely absorb ourselves in our surroundings. Each person is doing something different for their phenology projects; for instance, I am writing poetry, Maxson is taking the entire hour to scream and record how that feels, and Clarkie is recording species accounts. Phenology is my favorite part of the week. It is a learning experience unparalleled to any I have had before. I love the feeling of being entirely alone in the wilderness and wholly immersing myself in its processes. I feel like, sitting on my rock, looking out at the water, I am really a part of this world. At Chewonki, our teachers are always teaching us about the natural world. We have learned the names of trees and birds, everything from white pines to striped maples, and black capped chickadees to the barred owls. But during phenology, the natural world teaches us.

On a field trip a few weeks ago, while learning about succession, Peter Sniffen told us to really think about the story of the land. What happened to it? How does it react? What is happening to it now? At my phenology sight, I have the time to answer these questions. Being at my phenology sight I realized that our stories are multilayered and wonderful, but they are also final. And that’s what’s beautiful about the story of the land: it is unending, unrelenting, and forever energetic. Life at Chewonki is kind of like that too- the memories of the semesters before us seem to linger in the air; they affect us in ways we do not even realize. For instance, when we maul wood, this wood is stored for next year’s spring semester- Semester 46. The cycle is continuous, and each semester supports semesters after them, even though these semesters are, to us, faceless and nameless. In nature, things work similarly: the cycles work off of each other and with each other. And largely thanks to phenology, I think we are all beginning to realize the wonder and power of that fact.

-Charlotte Allyn, Hastings-on-Hudson, NY

There are a few key topics on every Chewonki semester student’s mind and one of them is sustainability. And how could it not be? We see the solar panels, we go to the bio-diesel plant, we chop our own wood, and we see how the CEE has been shaped and constructed to work with its environment. Every Thursday morning, instead of heading to the science lab for Natural History, every semester student heads off, during their respective blocks, to the CEE for Sustainability class. And although it’s a shame to miss a Natural History class, learning how we can be a sustainable society is fascinating and relevant.

Last week the sustainability topic was about passive solar heating, so our class divided into groups of three or four and built ourselves quaint little cardboard passive solar houses. Cassie, Katie, and I quickly rummaged through the pile of collapsed cardboard boxes for the best one. We pulled out a small white one that looked like it hadn’t been through too much and got to work. Cassie started cutting numerous windows in what was to be our south-facing wall, and Katie and I insulated. Moments before Tom Twist had informed us that insulation was the key to keeping in the sunlight absorbed through the windows and we thought it was best to honor that idea in the making of our cardboard dream house. We rushed through putting on double thick windows, curtains, a giant sunroof and an awning for cloudy days, to see other groups’ masterpieces. One group had created a solar shower another was completely triangular and another had a window make up an entire wall. By having this hands on experience, everyone was able to thoroughly grasp the concepts behind passive solar and the notion that a house needs to be warm in the winter and cool in the summer and this can be achieved in a house solely by working with the environment being built in.

Wednesday this week Tom and Jason formed a miniature solar housing development of our creations in front of the barn for everyone to see and test the temperatures within with a special laser thermometer devise. Some of the houses clearly worked, quickly reaching the seventies or higher, while Cassie, Katie and my house stayed the solid 43 degrees of the outside. We blame this on the fact that we didn’t have time to actually attach our sunroof/awning, and the house got a little breezy, convecting out any warm air we had managed to draw in through our windows—a large problem but easily fixable.

This project was a great example of the way we get to learn interactively here everyday.

-Erica Lehner, Holderness, NH

I woke up today and ran to morning gather. After an inspirational quotation was read we all headed off to our morning chores. For me, this meant weaving and spinning wool from the sheep on the farm. At 7:15, I headed down to breakfast for a delicious, varied meal. Soon it was time for farm talk where we learned all about the farming process here at Chewonki. When that was over, with less than five minutes to spare, we set out for our first classes. The morning went by surprisingly quickly, my classes filled with everything from Cuban rap songs to a sustainability tour around campus. Mouthwatering smells wafted across the dining room as we gathered around the tables. Plato read another quotation and we learned that we were eating farm meat for lunch that day. We began to clean a little later, barely able to stand our stomachs so full. We move quickly, work program is starting soon. We all break off into our different groups; in the next two hours everything from cleaning the dining room, to cooking tonight’s dinner, to clearing the trails will get done. I amble into the woods, happy to be able to take advantage of the uncharacteristically early spring weather. When that is finished we have school meeting; today we are discussing gender roles. Finally, we have dinner, we are all ravenous despite the huge lunch we had just hours earlier. We eat leisurely, but soon it is time for study hours. We are particularly studious this evening, studying for both a math and science test the next day. When we finally returned to our cabins we were exhausted. We sat by the fire discussing the various occurrences of our day and waited to be checked in. When we finally crawl into bed sleep comes immediately, and we rest preparing for the next very full and interesting day.

-Dahlia Sevy, New York, NY

Every day is long, but every week is short. This is the feeling caused by the Chewonki schedule. The orientation seems like yesterday, and I suddenly realize I am in March now, one month from the beginning of the semester. Even though, unfortunately, the wilderness trip has been canceled because the warmer weather caused some unsafe conditions on the icy lakes, we started another adventure on campus because of the huge rain storm. We were out of electricity, internet, and phone line connections for one week. However, I was surprised how much I enjoyed the period. It became one of the most unforgettable parts of my Chewonki experience.

When the curtain of night fell down, we lit candles for dinner and study hours. I swear it was one of the most “romantic” dinners I had in my life. Peoples voices were relatively quieter. Also, the holy night and the darkness helped people calm down and gave us a better atmosphere to sit down and focus. Moreover, I had a few great conversations back at the cabin because there was no light. All the members sat around the woodstove, talked about their feelings and experiences at Chewonki, and we even discussed more about the ethics of life.

Even though it was really dark, it pulled everyone much closer. We opened the gates of our hearts and communicated with other people. Even though we were out of electricity and stayed away from technology, we got a better chance to know each other. How amazing it was!

-Haoyun (Evan) Zhou, Chengdu, China

Last week, Chewonki Neck enjoyed a lengthy power outage, as a result of rather a lot of rain. I found the driving rain and strong wind soothing, as they pounded the Neck for a solid day. Tramping out to Hoyt’s Point multiple times that day was well worth the muck and stinging rain. The view was stunning—and not only because the wind was so strong it forced my eyes shut. I am unused to being in such close proximity to the water, and find it fascinating to walk down there whenever I have time so as to appreciate it in as many states as possible. I don’t trust it the way I trust the woods though. Woods and fields are familiar to me. Although I know that I do not know even close to everything about them, I trust trees and shrubs and grasses and vines. I don’t trust the water. Its beauty is not lost on me, but I do not feel at home in or on it, the way I feel comfortable on the land. Water is always changing, moving, altering itself and the life within it. The constant motion makes it difficult to familiarize oneself with it. In the sunlight, it glitters, sparkles concealing its contents like a decorator crab finds things on the ocean floor to conceal its ungainly body. The water makes me uneasy in the sunshine. In stormy weather, I can be comfortable in my mistrust of it. I no longer feel like it’s trying to make me trust it. The grey uneven surface invites me to distrust it, and so I feel entitled to do so. Standing out on Hoyt’s Point, turning my face to the wind, I felt the rain stinging my cheeks as the wind drove it into me. I felt exhilarated and acutely alive. The shore is always beautiful, but I find it most appealing in the storm.

I walked out to Hoyt’s Point again today, to see what it would be like after the constant rain and battering winds that took down the 11 trees that fell on our power lines last night. The forest that I walked through on my way felt muted, as though it were in an exhausted recovery from the violence of yesterday. Stepping through the break in the trees, down over the rocks to stand on the sea grass exposed by low tide, I beheld a view so serene it could have been a still photograph. The water, too, had been changed by yesterday’s weather. It was not serene in its usual fashion, when I feel as though it’s secretly mocking me. Rather, it was still, as though someone had hit a pause button. A few small ripples moved over it. Canadian geese and American black ducks flapped and soared through the living still photo. It was nearly silent, save for the calls of the birds. As photographs go, it was a meditative one.

While I stood there in the sea grass, I was seized with a moment of acute appreciation for my experiences thus far at Chewonki Semester School and for those I know are yet to come. The way I am bonded to the other participants of Semester 44 is different from the way I am bonded to any other classmates I have had. Sharing our lives here, together, knowing that we only have 4 months, has made us open up to each other more quickly than we might under different circumstances. That openness has enabled us to forge friendships of a different sort. Every morning I wake up excited to see what the new day will bring, and every evening I fall asleep feeling as though I accomplished something with my day.

-Deirdre Shea, Litchfield, CT

Some people say Ranch House is the most loving cabin on campus (or at least, I say so). Last Thursday was the ultimate display of “R” Love, a day that started, in fact, in the middle of the night at 3 am. It was Charlotte’s birthday, March 4th, and it was the only birthday that our cabin would have this semester, so the 5 of us who aren’t Charlotte decided to go all out. We had made clues for a day-long scavenger hunt that would end in a Ranch birthday card. We originally started the birthday card tradition with Colvin’s birthday last month, and got such positive feedback that we decided to continue it for every student. But of course, Charlotte’s one of us, so hers had to be different. Wednesday night we went around hiding clues in each of her classes, putting the card at the end of the hunt, and generally got pumped for the following day.

Katie, our cabin mother, came and celebrated our communal birthday with some tea, vegan cake, rock-hard vanilla bread, and Oreos. We had a photo shoot to document all the love in the air, and only reluctantly let Katie go back to her house. But the night was far from over—a few days ago Dianne had graciously donated party decorations, so at 3 am, when the birthday girl was sure to be asleep, my alarm went off and the rest of us got up to throw streamers all over the rafters and her bed, trying to keep quiet. We were used to stumbling around in the dark from our recent 5-day power outage, but I guess we weren’t quite stealthy enough, because Charlotte woke up and asked what was going on. Melissa assured her that we were only stoking the fire (yeah, all 5 of us), and we went back to bed as silently as we could.

At 6:20 am, the festivities continued as my alarm went off again and Ali got out her iPod, speakers, and blasted theme music. Josie didn’t need to press her snooze button even once before rising, and we all made to sure to jump on Charlotte before she had a chance to get up. As we headed toward the Hilton to get ready for the day, bringing along our music, Maggie commented on how nice it was to actually be up before the bell, with everyone starting the day together. We had been the first cabin to do farm chores, and for those two weeks our mornings were similar – early alarm, music, hustle out the door to grab the compost on our way to the farm. Maybe we had all been secretly missing getting up before the sun, because as early as it was, we began the day as a unit, just as we end it every night—full of love.

-Delger Erdenesanaa, Milton, MA

It’s hard to imagine that only a few days ago we were shivering while walking from building to building and that we were watching a light snow fall during our morning classes. Today is better than almost any summer day with a cloudless blue sky, hot sun, and birds chirping. Everyone is taking advantage of this unusual March weather to spend the day spread out on the new porch outside the Wallace Center. We all have papers to write, research to do, and species accounts for science class, but no one seems to want to work much on this beautiful day. Most people have changed into more weather-appropriate clothes, such as shorts and sunglasses, and even some sun screen has been applied.

We’ve had a very busy weekend here at Chewonki, one of the fun events being roller skating last night in Topsham, ME. We dressed in bright, crazy clothing to prepare for the “roller disco” and had an early dinner so we could have lots of roller skating time. We arrived in two mini buses and a van, and people were already giving us and our costumes strange looks as we walked inside. Some people got roller blades, but most of us went for the old-fashioned roller skates, and we clumsily made our way to the roller rink. It was packed with people and our large, colorful group stood out in the crowd. We were among young kids who clearly came to Roller World every weekend, teenage couples, and adults. We skated around and around the rink, singing, dancing, and holding hands. There was one scary moment when a little girl had an asthma attack, but Ben, who is a certified EMT, stepped up and coached her through breathing until the ambulance got there. Our group stayed until closing time, and despite our sore feet, we could have stayed longer.

This morning we were joined by Bill McKibben, a well-known environmental activist and author, who started the website 350.org. He sat at my table for our brunch of crêpes, eggs, and a fruit salad, and we talked about wilderness, cross country skiing, and environmental authors. He then gave us a talk on his work, 350, and what we can do to get involved. He showed us pictures of many of the countries that had participated in 350 Day last October and encouraged us to let our schools and friends know about the upcoming day this fall.

It was a very interesting and fun weekend culminating in the most beautiful day we’ve had so far, and we hope that we can spend all future weekends here outside.

-Hannah Perkins, Lincoln, MA

“Guys, it’s 6:30. Time to get up!” Jessica says, softly and quietly enough so as not to damage our tired ears. Waking up is the only time I ever doubt where I am, and even then, it’s only for a moment. Emily and I have a vicious morning cycle commencing with each of us waiting for the other to get up first. Neither of us are morning people, but once we’re out of bed, we can’t help but laugh. We’re up before the sun. Usually we sing, loudly and jarringly, all together while we dress. Several layers later, we all walk out the door, out of our cozy cabin, and the crisp outside air greets us. Emily maintains that it’s going to snow two and a half feet today, just like it was supposed to yesterday, last weekend, and the week before that. “I’m telling you, two and a half feet!”

At morning gather, Evan shares a Chinese poem and translates it for us all to hear. We all huddle together in our circle until he finishes and then head to chores. I pull out my weathered chart and head to each building to record the progress of each alternative energy source. It’s light out now, but the sun still isn’t up, so I have to wait before recording the solar panels on top of Gordy or the Gatehouse. After I’ve recorded the data, I head to the sustainability office, where Jason and I have been making graphs for each energy source. We work on this until breakfast, plotting the savings of each machine, comparing how efficient they are, estimating the amount of propane that’s been used since August. Walking over to the Wallace Center, the sun is rising, but the day has already begun. I look forward to the day, look forward to tomorrow, and look forward to being exactly where I am.

-Lydie Blundon, Somerset, VA

February 14th. Wikipedia defines this day as Valentines Day, the annual holiday celebrating love and affection between intimate companions. On Sunday the 14th, this is exactly what a group of us did…but we did it Chewonki style. What is Chewonki style Valentines Day? Well I’m glad you asked. After a brunch of eggs, fruit and mixed berry muffins, which a group of us woke up early to prepare for the community, Lynne, one of the teachers here at Chewonki, stood up to announce that she and her husband and son would like to invite anyone who was interested to spend Valentines Day down on the river with them ice fishing. A group of nine or ten of us eagerly signed up and after finishing dish crew and making sure that we had plenty of hot chocolate for the day, we piled into the van. Ten minutes later we were pulling our sled full of food and equipment out onto the river.

We worked together to set up traps and took turns hammering through the foot of solid ice. One of the trickier parts of making the holes was trying to scoop the chunks of ice out of the water with our ice ladle before it froze again. After the second or third hole, we had it down and we flew through the rest, thoroughly enjoying watching each other hack through the ice, which seemed to have a mind of its own.

As we waited to see if any fish would come to our traps we played baseball on the ice. Our ball was made out of duct tape and our bases were stray articles of clothing, but that didn’t make anyone less excited to play. We broke up into teams and began to play. Home runs, although hard to hit, were fairly easy to get because as soon as the ball was hit far enough, it was difficult to move quickly over the frozen ice. I have never really been someone who likes to slide in baseball, and the thought of diving at a base had never really appealed to me, however with a sheet of ice to run on and balls moving quickly towards me I soon found that sliding was not necessarily a choice in our version of baseball.

After baseball we broke up into smaller groups. Some of us went on a walk down the river, exploring the different little coves and sliding on the patches of slippery ice, while others stayed by the traps and watched for any signs of fish. On the way back from the walk that some of us took we saw everyone crowded around one of the holes and realized that we must have caught our first fish. As soon as we realized our traps had worked we started running, as fast as the ice would permit, back to check out the fish. It was small but you would never have known with the level of excitement that everyone showed when we saw it. As we all crowded around the fish and listened to Lynne describe what kind of fish we had caught, I realized what a perfect end to the day it was. Callum later said how cool it was that a teacher would enthusiastically invite students to come ice fishing with her and her family. I completely agree and I think I can safely say that the chances of this happening at my school back home are next to zero. Watching a football game from crowded bleachers or standing in a packed gym at a school dance just doesn’t give you the same feeling of enthusiasm and adventure that an experience like this does.

-Jessica Nichols, Lincoln, MA

At the end of last Saturday night, Amy Rogers said, “This was not the type of night that you could possibly explain to anyone who isn’t here.” Well, this is exactly what I’m going to attempt to do.

Every Saturday night, a different dish crew plans the activities for the evening. This Saturday was our dish crew’s turn. Per the suggestion of our friend Evan Zhou, we put together a night in the honor of the Chinese New Year. Everybody at Chewonki is from a different background and has had different experiences that enable us to build a rich community where we can learn from each other. Evan is no different; he has been in the United States since his sophomore year and his family still lives in Chengdu, China. With his help, we were able to put on a great New Year’s celebration—Chewonki style.

Keeping with the Chinese theme, everyone dressed up for our dinner of fried rice and dumplings as the animal for the year in which they were born—roosters and monkeys. After dinner, Evan gave a presentation on the different Chinese New Year traditions, taught us some simple Chinese characters and a few steps from a Chinese dance. After a chopstick tutorial, we tested our new chopstick skills with a pudding eating contest. I was starting to feel as if the festivities were winding down, but then the chicken fights began. Chicken fights involve each contestant putting their legs through the arms of a large sweatshirt and putting the sweatshirt on over their head, forcing them into a squatting position that’s absolutely hilarious for spectators. The two “chickens” battle each other by trying to knock the other one down. We all gathered around to watch our friends make fools of themselves trying to combat each other while strait jacketed in sweatshirts.

For our grand finale, we formed a quasi-dragon out of bed sheets and made our way to the waterfront, relying on each other to find our way. When we arrived we all shouted out into the dark night. We then took a few minutes of silence. I looked out over the water that shimmered in the moonlight and thought about my experience at Chewonki thus far. I couldn’t believe how fast three weeks had gone by. I thought about how I was now best friends with some girls who, three weeks ago, I didn’t even know. I thought about the cold, and how I was no longer apprehensive about it. I was more focused on the scene: the moon, the water, the trees; everything was just so peaceful.

-Maggie Nelson, Smyrna, GA

Gordy Hall (in warmer weather last semester!)

Gordy Girls are officially “Off the Grid.” For the past two days we have been starting to conserve our energy as well as produce our own energy. Before Gordy was switched off the grid, we received our power from the grid in the Center for Environmental Education. But currently, since Tom Twist and Jason Chandler switched us off the grid our cabin receives its energy from the solar panels on the roof and Hubert, the battery pack bike.

So far 20-30 minutes of biking on reasonably sunny days has kept our cabin’s electricity up and running. Once it snows and the solar panels are not in direct line with the sun we will need to bike even more in order to produce enough watts to turn on our lights. This is where we need to put in more effort to stay sustainable.

But in my opinion the effort is, and will be, worth it. I look forward to knowing that my cabinmates’ and my effort (sweat) on the bike will lead to contributing to the amount of energy we are able to use. Yes, the feelings of accomplishment will feel good as we turn on our lights. But my biggest excitement comes from knowing that my cabinmates and I worked hard to produce the power in order to allow for a sustainable cabin on Chewonki Neck.

-Lindsey Sinicki, Peak’s Island, ME

For the first time, I experienced frost. Living in a concrete jungle, I had never woken up to a thin blanket of small white crystals lining the grass. I walked out of my cabin and into the early morning cold to admire the white ground. My cabin mates all rushed out of the cabin, eager to make their first tracks on the frozen tundra. It was so exciting. I thought nothing could be prettier.

Then came the Saturday night which I will never forget. At around 6 o’clock, it started to snow. Big, fluffy snowflakes fell to the ground. After dinner, Ben, my math teacher, made an announcement saying that each cabin had to get a shovel so that we wouldn’t slip on our cabin steps. Michelle and I also got two shovels for the CEE. Without any gloves, we trod through the already thick and fluffy snow. We stopped and watched the white snowflakes against the black sky. After admiring the snowfall, we continued our walk towards the illuminated building. When we reached the boardwalk, we got ready to shovel, and in unison, we started to push. Without saying a word, we walked side by side, sometimes chuckling and sometimes listening to the trees whisper to us.

It was 7:30 p.m. We had been shoveling for twenty minutes. Our hands were turning purple and we were getting tired. The snow kept falling. We were scheduled to meet for Game Night at 8:00. We looked behind at the work we had already done. It looked like we hadn’t even shoveled. This was quite disappointing, considering we were very cold and we had been working for quite some time. We continued down the boardwalk and ran into Claire. We greeted her with shivering lips and acknowledged the fact that we were about to run into each other. I learned that it was Claire’s first time shoveling snow! Because of that, I left her a strip of snow along the bridge as thick as the shovel so she could get a satisfying run with the big tool.

Chewonki in the snow was gorgeous. I wish that everyone got to experience it. It was like you had stepped into the wardrobe in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. Walking with my new friends, holding their hands and dancing in the snow– I could not have asked for more.

-Mia Ritter, New York, NY

It was the last night in my cabin and it didn’t feel real. It was Gordy Hall’s last discussion in bed. It was the greatest. I told Gordy girls some more things about me and I felt relieved. I felt relieved that I have seven girls that would be by my side forever. From that last night I knew that I would encounter these seven girls in my life again no matter where it be. The food, fun, music, love, and laughter we shared will always be in my heart and thoughts forever and always. The last night on the floor in front of our Christmas tree was the best night I could ever ask for with all of my new brothers and sisters. The last day was tears. But for the first time in my life these tears were different. These tears were tears of love and joy. Tears of reassurance, that our book would remain unfinished. These tears let me know that the Semester 43 friendship would continue to grow outside of Chewonki. Semester 43 you taught me how to love like no other, you taught me tons of emotions i never knew of. I love you Semester 43 and I can’t wait for our June 2011 Road Trip. xoxoxo

Forever and Always til the Wagon Wheels Fall Off,

B.Ritt aka Dr. Love lol

-Brittany Reid, Boston, MA