Walking to the beach this morning, after seeing off our first friend at the ferry, my friend Angela and I talked about this. I mentioned that I couldn't decide what was worse, leaving at a high point, when all of our memories are wonderful but it might feel too soon, or having overstayed our welcome and been eager to leave. While leaving is difficult after we have established a deeply concentrated relationship with our peers, teachers, and this island we agreed that the fondness in which we will remember it will make up for the bittersweet emotions right now.
We have spent 3 months, nearly 12 hours a day at least, together, regardless of how irritated we have been with one another, there has been little room for escape. We have gotten to know eachother's lives, learned names of parents, antics of siblings, and sagas of significant others, without having met any of them face to face.
Without having a complete grasp on the extent of what I've learned here, I can safely say that the dynamic between the students, teachers, and the concentration of art, will be what I miss most. I can't say enough about each teacher I have met here, even ones whose classes I wasn't in. They operate with a focus that is contagious, and their main motivation, or so it seemed, was to better our experience and encourage our artistic process.
And I know I've mentioned the writing class before, but having completed the course, I feel even more strongly about it. We had our reading last Friday, each student stood up in front of everyone and read something they wrote this semester. We were all jittery, and the energy between the students was almost tangible. Spending most of that evening trying to cope with my fear of public speaking, I eventually turned to my friend Kayla and said, "We're nervous now, but we're going to wake up tomorrow wishing we could do it all over again." The reading went beautifully, mixing laughs and tears alike, and the whole time I continued to remind myself to be there, in that room of artists, and take advantage of the rare opportunity that is being surrounded by brilliantly talented and joyful people. When the last reader had gone, the nine of us, as well as fellow friends and teachers hugged and cried in celebration. Our writing teacher, Mr. George Crane said that we were the most talented class he's had, and that he felt like quitting thinking that the students to come could not possibly measure up. I share the same sentiment, in the sense that I will likely never again be in a class of students so grounded in joy and honesty. In the last three months, I wrote about things that I had previously felt unable to talk about with anyone, let alone write and expose in front of an audience. The space and comfort that this program has provided me is simply irreplaceable.
