As part of the Island School Semester curriculum, students participate in Creative Writing & Storytelling, which is centered around the question ‘why craft, share, and seek stories?’
In this course, students embark on a semester-long journey to document their experiences at The Island School, as well as across the island of Eleuthera, by experimenting across genres, including poetry, oral storytelling, journalism, flash fiction, and creative non-fiction. As students pursue their own projects, they read and analyze environmental and Caribbean literature, including texts from Marion Bethel of The Bahamas and Jamaica Kincaid of Antigua.
Our Fall 2024 Semester students, inspired by their shared (as well as their individual) experiences with scuba diving, wrote personal narratives about diving around Cape Eleuthera.
Inspired By The UNDERWATER World
Each week, students have a three-hour diving block during which time they immerse themselves in the crystal-clear waters that surround our campus. Beneath the surface, they work on their fish identification skills, examine the health of corals, and develop a new connection with the ocean.
Students used William Finnegan’s memoir Barbarian Days and Adrienne Rich’s poem Diving into the Wreck to frame their assignment as they attempted to combine action, description, and reflection onto the page.
Over the course of the semester, students leaned into process writing and peer workshopping to revise and rethink their work. As their sense of self and place strengthened, so, too, did their skills as writers and storytellers. Each student completed the class with their own creative writing portfolio and an understanding of the power of stories as tools for sharing knowledge, making connections, and finding meaning.
See the final pieces of some of our students, who wanted to share their work:
Asha Larson-Rubin
Afternoons are always hazy, but Fridays are the best, despite the post-lunch slump, since we have SCUBA. After lunch, I skip down the Tree House stairs, a mesh bag swinging from my shoulders. My sandals smack the wood steps before thumping on the sandy ground. The next part is a blur. We set up tanks, checking air and regulators before dragging the tanks to the boat. I put on sunscreen as Alex talks: nose, forehead, ears, neck. The boat trip is always spectacular, enveloped by blues and greens with wind that rips at our voices. The sun beams gold.
Chloe Jeppson
It took a minute to get my bearings, as I looked at everyone through tempered glass lenses and air bubbles. The carbon dioxide that had made its way through my lungs, filtered out of my blood stream, and pushed back out was now visible. I could see it, clearly see it, engulfing my forehead and hair, ever rushing towards the surface and its atmospheric home. I watched intently as my exhale traveled upwards, conjoining and separating and intertwining with my classmates’, engaged in a fight with density.
Amelia Russel Schaffer
I take my first true deep breath of the day surrounded by the deep blue. The gradient shades of blue enclose around me as I slowly float down to the ocean floor letting the weight of my tank be my anchor. I hear the crackling of the ocean and the hiss of my regulator but beside that this unknown world is silent. Free from the orchestra of chaos that litters my ears each day. My body moves through the sea, and the feeling of infinite serenity overwhelms my mind.
Anna Cherepowich
Equalizing every few feet, I’m relieved from pressure both mentally and physically. The coral structures that come into view like sunken cities as I continue to descend never fail to amaze me and fuel my sense of wonder. The countless hours spent with my dad learning to identify tropical fish come in handy as I’m able to name almost every fish that crosses my path. My mom says I’m part fish and I think she’s right. I’m more comfortable in the water than on land.
Emma Finkelstein
We ascend slowly, taking a three-minute safety stop. It’s only when I get to the surface that I realize what I was the whole time during the dive: present. I have written the word present many times as a goal for myself in my placebook, which is a journal given to all Island School semester students. With no phone or internet here, I have been working on staying in the moment and “being where my feet are,” a motto often said here by teachers. Emerging from this dive, and taking off my weight belt, BCD, fins, and mask, I know that being fully in the moment underwater is my favorite part of diving.
Throughout Creative Writing & Storytelling, students compose poetry of place, environmental journalism, and climate fiction. Many reflect that they appreciate the chance that the course provides to push their imagination and strengthen their voice. We are proud of our Fall 2024 students’ beautiful work.