TO THE POINT

Making sun tea is strictly seasonal. It’s not like grapefruit or honeydew, which can be truck-loaded and shipped anywhere, any time. (Good) sun tea is only possible when the sun is strong and hot like an ox on a frying pan. Yesterday, it was finally sunny enough, so Tamothy helped me clip a mother-load of mint from the garden and I set off to the dining hall to find all the necessaries. Honey, a lemon, and teabags were in order. Once I got an old jar of jelly (no longer filled with jelly), washed and tore all the mint, squeezed out a long line of honey, and sufficiently diffused the teabags into the water, I was done with the active process of sun tea making. The next part, and probably the most difficult part had arrived. Just kidding! The next part was only to find a sunny spot and let my mason jar of sweet hope sit pretty for a while. So… I did! And right about three hours later, at dinner, I picked up my flavor container and set off to pour myself a lovin’ cup of sun tea. Let me tell you, all that steeping and marinating it did all by its self in the sun is what makes it great. Anyone can drink tea, but it really takes gumption and patience to make tea out of passive solar heat.
What a treat, what a treat.

-Stella Rosen, Bronx, NY

When I started to think about what your typical day at Maine Coast Semester would be, my mind went blank. Every day here is a new and wonderful experience, one that I could never get back home. Even the week days are unique in their own way. Only on Mondays and Fridays do we have a full day of classes; on Tuesdays and Wednesdays we end classes at lunch time and have work program for two hours where we get to give back to the community by helping out on the farm, with maintenance, or in the kitchen. On Thursdays we start our mornings with a farm talk where we get to learn about the new things going on at the farm, and then after lunch we have field trip where we get to have a hands-on experience which helps us to understand what we are learning in our Natural History of the Maine Coast class.

The weekends here are even harder to describe. Saturdays we get to sleep in a little bit later and then we have something called “A Sense of Place,” where we have all sorts of different activities. Every Saturday night, a dish crew gets to plan the dinner and an activity, like last night we had a cookout then played “lap tag” and then did an iron chef competition for the best desserts. Sundays are our only free days. We don’t have brunch until 10:30 and then dinner at 5:30 so the rest of the day is free to do almost anything like go for a bike ride, take a walk to one of the points, or have a jam session on the porch of the farm house. One thing we do have every night, except Saturdays, is study hours and then check in at 10, except Saturdays it is at 11. Coming back to my cabin every night after study hours is probably my favorite time of day because that is when I get to hang out with my awesome Gillies family. As you can see every day here at Maine Coast Semester is so special because everyone is different and I cannot believe that the days here are coming to an end because everyone has made a difference in my life.

-Elizabeth Hogan, Atlanta, GA

A lot has changed here on Chewonki Neck in the past two weeks. The weather has gone from freezing to extremely warm and humid. This beautiful weather is not only increasing the time we spend outside, but now there is a a whole lot more animal and bird activity. For example, the frog pond is filled with frogs that you can hear throughout campus, day and night. There also has been an increasing number of birds here on Chewonki Neck; when you step outside you hear a constant chirping from birds like the house sparrows, black-capped chickadees, and American red robins. Also the trees here have been blooming and starting to show their leaves, which has been very exciting and beautiful.

Since the weather has gotten a whole lot nicer there has been a lot more activities outside; people have been going on daily walks to the point and for the last couple of weeks there have been groups of people camping out around the Neck. Also today for the first time this spring Paul Arthur is leading a small group of MCS students on a day canoe trip.

-Noah Hillis, Encino, CA

I remember when I was first looking at Maine Coast Semester, before I had been accepted or could even believe I would come here. I read the blog, looked at the photos on flickr, read all the information, and filled my mind with the idea that MCS was a perfect world. Since coming here, I’ve realized the impossibility of this idea. Instead, I have truly experienced a coming of age that would have been different anywhere else.

It’s hard to define exactly what has meant so much to me - it could be arriving for the first time at Chewonki with the snow falling softly all around, feeling like I was about to embark on an adventure that would be important in my life. It could be the heart-pounding risk of expressing my deepest fears, or somehow finding the bravery to take the first step and do something hard for myself. It could be the joy I found from revealing myself to my cabin-mates and being accepted in return, or the fact that one day, I realized that I considered my cabin home. It could be the surprising, overwhelming feeling of loving those five girls so much, that I considered them both my friends and my family. It could be watching the snow disappear into muddy paths, and then seeing a daffodil for the first time, realizing that winter was over and spring had come. It could be going on my solo and working out my feelings on page after page of my journal, or the new understanding I acquired of people my age. It could be anything - finding my way through this part of my life, stumbling through fear and despair, and finding hope and bravery. It could be watching 38 other people my age do the same. It could be looking at nature in a completely new way, or making prints in art class of an image that I couldn’t get out of my head. It could be the music I always hear being played, or the songs being sung. I can’t choose one moment. I have been inspired and amazed by the bravery and the capacity to love of everyone here. I’ve discovered my truth, I’ve bared my soul, I’ve cried and I’ve laughed, and I’ve lived.

-Emma Fiske-Dobell, Brooklyn, NY

Music at Chewonki is awesome. There are so many opportunities to express yourself at Chewonki! I have picked up the banjo and guitar and piano and even singing since my arrival. My all time favorite is the banjo though. Coming from a town like Ossining you’ll be damned to hear a banjo over all the hip hop and pop influence. But Benji and Emily are so nasty at it! I get excited to hear new artists and crazy medleys. I tried to jump into banjo playing with confidence but I instantly had to ask Benji for some help. But now I can play songs and bond with all the other great musicians at Chewonki.

Decomposer’s (our a cappella group) is awesome as well. Being a guy in it, I have great chances to have my moments. I went in with slim to no singing experience at all. All I knew was that I had to try to sing just like everyone else, and after a week my singing was up to par with everyone else. On top of that, the music that we discover from each other is a very remarkable aspect of my time here. I came here solely influenced by hip-hop, and now I am finding influence from all random directions. I have reached out to a huge amount of new music and it totally changed the way I think. I guess as long as you keep your doors open at Chewonki you can find yourself in places you’d never imagine.

-Dillon Goetz, Ossining, NY

Last weekend was different than any other we have spent so far at Chewonki. Instead of the normal routine of Friday night study hours and Saturday night activities we have all become used to, each MCS student was sent to our own section of Chewonki Neck for a two night solo experience. We had been preparing for this all week, with lessons on setting up tarps for OAP and a school meeting about the purposes of solos. I knew some students who were dreading a weekend alone and some who had been looking forward to their solo all semester, while I was mostly excited to have some time to sleep after a long week of late nights thanks to a history paper and a hilarious and noisy cabin. We approached the weekend with a range of emotions, but I’m pretty sure we all shared a common hope that the good weather would hold out and it wouldn’t rain.

Out of my advisee group, I was the first to be dropped off. My solo spot was a small point of land across from Hoyt’s Point that poked out into the salt marsh. I said a last good-bye, went to look for a spot to set up my tarp, and the next time I turned around, the group I had walked over with was gone. I was officially alone.

In general, my solo was pretty uneventful. As we trickled back home on Sunday, each person I saw was filled with stories about the million ridiculous things that began to go through their head by the 30th hour they’d spent alone. I didn’t have many crazy stories to add—mostly I spent my solo sitting on a rock looking out at the salt marsh and thinking. I would like to say that I thought about meaningful, life-changing things, and I did do some of that, but I also have several journal entries I can look back at now where I discussed how much I love cheese cubes. I also have a particularly embarrassing page that is all Paul Arthur’s fault—the day before solos, he told me about a game he invented to stop yourself from being scared at night where you take one word out of a movie title and replace it with the word “poop.” Mature, I know. But by the second day, sure enough, I had a whole journal page covered in a list: Dead Poop Society, Poop in Pink, O Poop Where Art Thou?, A Poop Called Wanda, Poop By Me, The Dark Poop. Believe me, I could go on forever, but you get the picture.

It may seem like I had a really boring solo, but I loved every minute of it. I got to go to bed before sunrise every night, I got to live by the sun with no worries or times I needed to be somewhere, I got to actually watch the tide move in and out, and I got to be totally and completely alone, something I haven’t experienced since arriving at Chewonki, or maybe my entire life if I think about it. My solo helped me realize that time spent alone isn’t necessarily time wasted, something I had never thought about before (being the kind of person who is always looking for someone new to hang out and do something fun with as soon as I have free time). I think we were all glad to have a weekend to ourselves before heading full-speed into our last month together, and I think it was one of my favorite weekends I’ve spent so far this semester.

-Jill Giornelli, Atlanta, GA

At Chewonki, I think about food more than I ever have before. Not only is the food here magically delicious, it is more environmentally friendly than the food I get at home or at my old school.

I chose to become vegan about three weeks ago. I experimented with veganism at home, too, but I never really had a compelling purpose that drove me.

At most meals, I think about the story of the foods on my plate. How did these green beans come to Chewonki? How did this apple get here? Not in a “all things have feelings” manner, but often out of curiosity and sometimes boredom I trace the food’s journey.

To the best of my knowledge I guesstimate how far the food traveled and what kind of processing it went through before ending up on my plate. I will never again eat the meat of a chicken at the Tyson factory who was broiled and beheaded alive. I will never again drink the milk of a cow so mistreated that she couldn’t stand up in her pen. I will never do that and many more things that contribute to animal cruelty and the emission of toxic gases on the earth.

Even if I avoid these things, what do I really know about my food? I can forget the details in the fabric, but does that do me any good? All I can do is my best and hope that the meat I don’t eat, the milk I don’t eat, and the eggs I don’t eat are enough to make even the smallest impact.

-Sophie Anderson, Federal Way, WA

The air crackled with excitement as people bustled about gathering chairs, refreshments, and name tags in preparation for what was to come. Peter Sniffen, in the newly swept, mopped and polished Wallace Center, exclaimed energetically, “They’re going to be here any minute now!” and students on the couches chatted giddily about what they were going to do later that day. This wasn’t your typical Chewonki morning, this was Prospective Students Day and people were bracing themselves for the wave of new faces that would soon be pouring into the Center Of Environmental Education.

Despite the dreary, drizzly weather, we had an invigorating influx of prospective students and their families who all came to see and become acquainted with the Chewonki/MCS program before they packed up to have an MCS experience of their own. My job, along with Jesse, Lyla, Diego, Alex Lee, Jack Phinney and Ben Breckenridge, was to greet the families arriving in the Center for Environmental Education, offer them juice, delicious home-made muffins and big cups of the famous “Big Carry Dark Roast” or “West Branch Organic” coffees. Then, we schmoozed. At first the arrivals were patchy, much like the misty precipitation outside, but then families began pulling up in their laden down mini-vans and were greeted by a steady shower of smiles, introductions and very impressive hand shakes. The accepted MCS’ers seemed shy and tentative, much like I was at my own MCS prospective student open house, but gradually conversations were initiated by tag teams of current students and our trusty admissions team, Becca and Libby, stood by to save us in the event of any horribly awkward conversations.

However, the need for social rescue didn’t really exist. I was surprised by how happy the kids I spoke to seemed to be, and how ready they were to meet kids from their semester or ask questions about the program. Although I didn’t get to interact with everyone, as I was soon sent on a massive coffee run, it was easy to make conversations with the newbies, and I mean that in the most endearing way possible. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of social connections I had with them, the weird and coincidental mutual friends from camp or sending schools and it made me realize that being part of Chewonki connects you with hundreds and hundreds of people beyond your usual sphere. I have to admit, it felt nice knowing I have become part of something that is so much bigger than myself. It felt really nice. Even after my allotted time of meeting and greeting was over, I spent the rest of the afternoon milling about and watching my classmates interact with our visitors. Much as I had, they gave tours, answered questions and had lunch table conversations with ease, grace and composure but with a personal, welcoming vibe. All in all it was a good day for us MCS’ers. We got to spread our enthusiasm for MCS, and far as I could tell, our visitors had almost as much of a good time as we had hosting them.

-Eliza Bessone, Mamaroneck, NY

It was Saturday night and all MCS students were preparing for an intense game of Flashlight Tag. Let me explain, MCS flashlight tag is not a little game but a serious stream-wading, fence-jumping competition. I saw the blue team scheming by the Wallace Center before gathering with the 30 or so other students in the Ellis Room. When I entered the Ellis everyone was yelling and trying to find their teammates. I ran to find the Black team; we were dressed in dark colors with war paint and army print head bands. My team consisted of Lyla, Sam, Breck, Kristen, Jesse and Jesse’s friend Lydia. There was a feeling in the air, we were going to win flashlight tag, and the whole team knew it. The bell was rung and the teams sprinted to the totem pole. The object of the game was to make it from the totem pole to the waterfront without getting tagged by the people hiding with flashlights. You must understand that Chewonki is pitch black and silent at night every stick that breaks can be heard. The stealthy black team took a back route to the totem pole; we stayed together and crept behind the CEE. Other teams scattered and separated into pairs so that they would be harder to detect, or so they thought. We decided to stay together and once the bell was rung we sprinted down the road towards the farm. I have never run so fast and when we tripped over branches we couldn’t yell for fear of being heard by the evil flashlight taggers. The farm is far from the totem pole and we climbed over a fence and hid under a boat before we could eventually sprint through the open fields. My boots were filled with mud and we were halfway to the cover of the woods when someone shined a flashlight. We scattered and I literally dropped to the ground lying face down in the mud. Luckily it was just a loner separated from the green group, we left him behind because we didn’t want him to follow us. Our leader Breck took us down to Hoyt’s Point and we climbed over fallen trees and rocks and even waded through a river. We were wet and muddy but we had each other for support. As people got tired we stopped more often to make sure we were all together. Sharing this scary experience brought each and every one of us closer in some way; I held hands with someone I hadn’t even talked to in the past two days, it was not weird but rather normal and comforting. We were all filled with adrenaline and we knew that we would make it to the water front, we were so close! When we got back into a zone where flashlight taggers were, Breck instructed us to run out of the woods one at a time as fast and as quietly as we could. We each sprinted and collapsed at the dock, and one of the teachers Elana congratulated us as we all grouped by the waterfront. We all began screaming, we were drenched with sweat and covered in mud but so satisfied and proud of ourselves. I drew out my last bit of energy and began running up the hill from the waterfront to the Allen Center so that I could have the honor of ringing that victory bell! I was hyperventilating but I swung the bell as hard as I could and Willard even helped me. Everyone was impressed with our win; nobody else had even reached the dock. Yes! The feeling was amazing. Black team is the best.

-Jessica Wolf, New York, NY
& Jesse Wiener, Minneapolis, MN

While it is almost impossible for me to say what my favorite part of MCS is, I think my cabin ranks pretty high up there. I live in Ranch House. One of the smallest and oldest cabins at MCS. Even though it is slightly geriatric, it is full of character. Whether it is the 40 plus plaques of previous semesters, the bowed ceiling beams, or the random wall partitioning off a back room, Ranch feels personal and loved. To me, however, Ranch is my own. I make my own memories with my cabin mates; memories that will soon be shared with other semesters on a plaque.

From day one, my cabin mates were my family. As a family, we’ve had disagreements, but those disagreements brought us closer, strengthening our relationship. At the end of each night, we all come back to our cabin and decompress. Normally, we go around and say the best and worst part of our day, but often times we get sidetracked and end up talking for hours. If anyone in the cabin is having an issue or a bad day, we do all we can to make them happy. Everyone genuinely cares for one another. I know that my cabin is the one place where I can say exactly what is on my mind no matter how petty it really is.

-Ariana Spiliotes, Bethesda, MD

March 22, a weird day for me at Chewonki. The morning started off as the usual mornings do, an alarm ring at 6:20 a.m., then the sounds of my cabin-mates’ slow movement toward the door and my usual “I can’t believe it’s morning” groan. A continental breakfast welcomed me into the Wallace and I ate quickly in order to have that extra time to say goodbye. At 8:30 the procession to the van began and ended quickly with a hug from Willard and a step into the bus. Inside the Wallace it was still jam-packed with people all loitering near the standing secretary hugging and saying their goodbyes. Then as the van drove away a group of us ran after it waving and yelling our final goodbyes as if we would never meet again (who knew we would be together in just a little more than a week, not us, that’s for sure). After that a slow trickle of parents began arriving and taking everyone back to their other home. (When I was talking to my parents over break and I used the word “home” to refer to Chewonki, I always got a “ Hey!”) I can’t even count the number of times that day I heard “Oh man, my parents are so weird, so just don’t mind them,” which was followed by “What are you talking about, your parents are amazing! I love them!” My cabin slowly emptied and I missed them already.

Around 9:00 I strolled into the Outreach lab (my common Sunday practice). There was Lynne and all of the animals. I did my usual work, feeding and taking care of Peepers (the duck) and making food for the other animals. A half hour later, Sophie, Diego, and Schuyler came to report that almost everyone had left. On my way back to the Wallace after leaving Outreach, I realized how empty campus really felt. I heard no laughs, no screams, and no music. At that point I realized just how much of my Chewonki experience has been shaped from the wonderful people who reside here. Luckily I still had Sophie and Diego. We were going to be the three amigos in this coming four days going into the wilderness and isolation. Our first night revolved around missing everyone already and talking about how truly different campus was with just three students.

Spring Break was an introduction to us all about how hard it was going to be to leave. I did not go home but even being without my cabin and support group for that week was different and kind of hard. Everyone missed everyone and coming back was really coming home. But this place really has become a second home to everyone here. It is comforting to know that when I leave I will have 39 brothers and sisters whom will be supporting me from all over the country, and in turn they know that I will be supporting them.

-Maile All, Bremerton, WA

Music at Chewonki is like the second air that everyone breathes. Sam Colt made one of the earlier blog posts where he observed that whenever there are more than five people in a room there will be music playing, and I completely agree with that observation. Whether someone is playing music on the piano, guitar, or banjo or its being played by an iPod or computer there is always music being played. Most of the time the music that is being played is trying to fit the moods of how we feel, but other times the music that people play is just fun music that people belt and dance to. The other times there are songs that people play every time they open up their computer. Normally that song is one that is a campus-wide thing. The first song to be graced with that honor was “Hot n’ Cold” by Katy Perry. For the first couple of weeks you would not be able to go anywhere without hearing that song. It was always playing, and I’m sure that nearly every student attending Maine Coast Semester knows all the words to the song. But, there is only so much one song can be played before people get tired of it and want to move onto the next big song.

The next song to become the go-to song of our semester was “Lime Tree” by Trevor Hall. This song was a nice departure from “Hot n’ Cold” as this song is incredibly more mellow. “Lime Tree” stayed with our semester for about a week and half before, by chance, a new song rose to power. As I was walking to go to the bathroom during a natural history class I heard a song that I hadn’t heard since I watched Harold and Kumar. “Hold On” by Wilson Phillips was blasting from the Admissions Office where Libby was rocking out to that song. I was immediately reminded of the hilarity of the situation that this song arises in Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle (it is one of those awkward car ride moments where a song comes on and the occupants of the car are awkwardly trying to get the other to change it but they don’t and they end up belting the song together). When I got my next free block I went on the Internet and downloaded the song. Immediately I started playing it, and my good friend and cabin mate Jack Phinney picked up on the song and started singing to it. We resolved to make this song the next big song of our semester. Recently though, it has been getting some competition from “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer. I am not concerned as I know that Wilson Phillips could never lose in a fight to Sixpence None the Richer.

-Alex Lee, Atlanta, GA

There was much anticipation for this Saturday night’s activity. After countless rumors, at dinner it was confirmed by dish crew six that this activity involved being grouped by cabins, dressing up in ridiculous themed outfits and making up a dance routine. South Hall formed a boy band, Binnacle revealed their gangster roots, Orchard led an 80’s aerobics class, the Gillies girls were protesting hippies, Ranch dressed up as ballerinas and the Gordy girls turned into interpretive dancers.

At 8 o’ clock everybody reported to the CEE. Every cabin went all out in their outfits. After posing for countless boy band album covers, dish crew six explained that each cabin would be given three songs to choose from and, in one hour, make a dance to it. After every cabin chose their song, we were sent to various places on campus to practice. After an hour of laughing, sweating, kung fu dancing South Hall was ready. At nine o’ clock, everybody gathered in the CEE to perform their dances. After playing spin the scraper, the MCS 42 tradition for assigning jobs, the order was decided. Ranch was to go first, Orchard second, Binnacle third, Gillies fourth, South Hall fifth, and Gordy sixth.

The room filled with excitement as Ranch House got up on stage and began to break it down to “I Don’t Feel Like Dancing” by the Scissor Sisters. Using their mandatory prop, a rope, they tied themselves together, unraveled, and danced. Next up was Orchard aka O-town. With their backs to the audience, and tongs in hand, they boogied to “S Club Party,” by S Club Seven. Everyone was impressed by their fly moves and originality, especially when instead of singing, “ain’t no party like an s club party,” they belted out “ain’t no party like an O-town party.” Clever. After O-town, it was Binnacle’s turn. They danced with mops and Ben Shachner played the role of Gwen Stefani in “Hollaback Girl.” Behind him a plethora of dance moves were present, from Sam Colt break dancing to Alex Macmillan lost in the land of candy and rainbows. Next up was Gillies. They seemed worn out after their loud protesting from earlier, but still broke it down with chairs, to “Everytime We Touch,” by Cascada. Now it was South Hall’s turn. Looking like Backstreet Boys, we took the stage. Every girl in the audience was in ecstasy as we kung-fu chopped and kicked. Their sighs of joy almost drowned out the song, “Kung Fu Fighting.” Last but not least, was Gordy Hall. They rounded out the pack, and danced with brooms to “Disturbia,” by Rihanna. At the end of the night, everybody was a winner, and then we had a dance party.

Peace and Tranquility,
Jack Phinney, Wilton, CT

As a runner, I cherish the time I get to be alone each day, running and thinking about various things. Before coming to Chewonki, I would wind around the roads and trails by my house with leisure, never really anxious to return to the busy and often-stressful reality I faced the other twenty-three hours of the day. Sometimes I would purposely extend my runs, eager to remain in the burdenless state of mind I experienced as I glided past my surroundings with determination. However, after over a month of running down the long paved road that leads through a corridor of snow-covered trees (many of which I can now happily identify as a result of Natural History class!), I have found that my attitude towards this sacred portion of my day has shifted. Instead of using this time to analyze certain situations or consider the future, I have become enraptured with my surroundings - whether it be the snowshoe hare tracks lining the side of the road, or a story of one of my wonderful running partner’s, offering me a small glimpse into another friend I have been fortunate enough to make in my time here. I no longer wish to extend my runs indefinitely because my return destination is undesirable. Conversely, I often find myself shortening the time I spend on the road, anxious to return to participate in a dance party, walk down to the water in order to catch the sunset, or to build a snow creature in Osprey Circle.

Realizing that my time here is truly unique and simultaneously finite, I don’t have a problem sacrificing my alone time for another community-oriented activity anymore. As soon as I catch a glimpse of the Barn coming up the last hill, my pace quickens and I start to sprint - I start to sprint to a place that I have learned to call home; a place where surrounding myself with tons of other kids, each wonderful in his or her own right, has led to a greater self-understanding and contentment than I would have ever imagined.

-Anna Purcell, Watertown, NY

Friday evening at dinner, Pete Sniffen reminded everyone to pack layers for the morning field trip to hike Mt. Megunticook in Camden. There were several groans and grumbles after this announcement, due to idea of having to get up earlier than a usual Saturday in order to get on the bus and head out. 7:15 was the time specifically we had to be up and ready, buses leaving at 7:30. I surely was not one very welcome to the idea, but oh well. We woke up Saturday morning to a surprisingly warm cabin (62 degrees, compared to the usual 55ish). The usual morning haze was easily seen in the eyes of many students who stumbled into the dining hall looking for something to eat. I had arrived around 7:00, and ate a bowl of cereal. Before I knew it, we were out the door heading to buses.

Within five minutes of the bus ride, everyone was groggily chewing on a bagel with their choice of spread (I had one half sesame seed bagel with peanut butter, the other half with cream cheese). The rest of the ride (about an hour) I spent in a doze. After unloading, we split into four groups for the hike. At that moment, a few people (including me) had realized that the snow was perfect for snowballs… that was fun! The hike to the top of Mt. Megunticook was quick and rewarding. We reached the top around 11:00 and the view was spectacular. Had the trip been optional, I definitely would not have gone, just so I could enjoy sleep. I’m glad it was mandatory, because I would have hated missing it. It was something that will be a precedent for future morning trips.

-Corbin Percy, Wiscasset, ME