Venturing Out Of The Harbor

Tuesday, August 14, 2011, marked the last leg of our weeklong Rhode Island sailboat journey. We had left Block Island far behind and were entering back into reality. I watched the sun come up over the water across from Prudence Island. Welcoming us into the new day was a canvas of sky, ablaze with the textures and colors of brilliant pastels. My camera did it small justice, yet captured the basic essence... beyond a distant boat rose a trail of clouds, like smoke signals Narragansett natives once sent up from their camps all around the edges of the bay to communicate with one another ... often in warning ... red sky at morn ... I heard a rooster crow out from somewhere along the shore nearby ... once ... twice ... three ... four times.... Wake up, Rhode Island! Interesting.

Examining the photo more closely, one might one also imagine a burning ship, with smoke billowing up from a fire bursting into flame somewhere in the rigging. 

My onboard reading for the week included the recent Time Magazine article on “How to Buy the White House.” It read: “A Rich Man’s Game: Forget people power. Billionaires are fueling the money race to the White House.” The article explained how both candidates expect to raise over a billion dollars in campaign contributions ... A BILLION ... to spend on mailings, TV and internet advertising, billboards, yard signs, and exclusive dinners ... in the great battle to determine who will captain the U.S.S. America. In truth, a billion is nothing in the grander scheme of things. Last time I was paying attention, America was costing $3.8 trillion per year to operate, with a liability of $14.3 trillion in debt on the balance sheet, while only bringing in about $2.2 trillion in annual receipts.

There is a contingent in our hometown of East Greenwich that play a rich man’s boating game, however, it is nowhere near this extreme level of money, risk, and sophistication. Sheltered beyond Prudence Island and safely around the bend, the most impressive boat in Greenwich Cove would be no more than a 50-foot power boat. 

I remember when we purchased our modest boat secondhand. It was Dec. 5, 1998. I took our daughter, 4, and our son, 2, down to Beavertail to scramble around on the rocks, and to watch for the boat my husband was sailing home to Rhode Island from Old Lyme. The winter day was bright and sunny, with a temperature nearing 70 degrees. A heavenly day for the delivery of an early Christmas present, and what a special present...

Our investment, which has pretty much held its purchase value, is effectively a camper on the water. It has afforded us precious family time away from the distractions of modern politics and culture. We spend next to nothing on fuel. We pack and cook all of our meals. We drop anchor at Mackerel Cove or Block Island for free accommodations. And, for ship-to-shore transportation and snorkling excursions, we tow along our inflatable dinghy, Pickee Up.

The sailboat has been like a floating classroom, extending our children’s learning through the summertime. This year, our daughter graduated from the high school and is bound to Northeastern to study Marine Biology and Documentary Film.  Meanwhile, our son is still navigating his way through the high school ... the #1 high school in the state, by the way. We were blessed with the resources to raise our kids in a sheltered harbor.

As for me, this past year I slipped quietly out of the sheltered harbor to teach in the Pawtucket public schools. As it fate would have it, my assignment in Pawtucket was supposedly to the “lowest performing” elementary school in the district, which is one of the “lowest performing” districts in the state. I find the ranking unbelievable, because the students there seem to be so bright. Granted, a few of them have become caught up in some disturbing family circumstances, and confided in me things that have broken my heart ... over and over again ... from a 5-year-old whose father kicked both her and her mother out of the house to a 10-year-old whose single mother is depressed and spends her days in bed. On top of this were the immediate suicides and homicides of close loved ones. I listened, absorbed the pain, took it home, and sometimes woke my husband, crying in the middle of the night ... my way of releasing heavy emotions in order to enter each new day with a smile on my face, because under it all I remember how those same children have smiled and laughed with me.

The teaching journey has been a privilege ... nay, a valuable gift ... I have gained passage to other realities through the telescopes of innocent eyes... and have become a teacher who is constantly learning from her students.  I have learned that, ultimately, our reality is not about the money and not about measuring up.

What it all boils down to is this: Children are society’s future leaders, whether they come from East Greenwich, Pawtucket, or anywhere else. East Greenwich is just one small voice among many in the Rhode Island state legislature; children from other communities will claim the other seats some day. Taking a long-term and more global perspective – as opposed to one that has long been short-sighted and localized – what can we, who have been so blessed, do to educate and nurture these future leaders all around the state, so that we can move forward some day with intelligent governance?   

A new day is brilliantly dawning. Change is in the wind. The long journey ahead will require a lot – time and patience, a brilliant map, an imaginative spirit, fearlessness, a passion for adventure, flexibility, integrity, faith, and love. Everyone is welcome to get onboard, however, they will have to work ... together.  Change is about doing ... about being the change you want to see in the world.  

Please consider giving an hour or two per week ... connecting yourself or your family to a child in another community ... showing them what caring is ... listening ... playing ... and sharing your passion, optimism, and knowledge. WE are the change, CHILDREN are the future, and TOGETHER we have all been blessed.  Where there is Will, there is Hope. Who Will venture out of the sheltered harbor of East Greenwich? Who already has? Please share your stories.

I sincerely thank you for your time and attention.

Wendy Fachon, Storywalker