Lobster Boys

There used to be 3 tables on the porch outside Portside, a tiny, popular breakfast spot on this remote island off the coast of Maine. One table had broken long ago and never replaced so now there are only 2. This was frustrating, since the view from the porch of the lobster fishermen bringing in their morning traps was where I wanted to be to enjoy my eggs, home fries, toast and coffee. But I resigned myself to squeezing inside the small, full dining room on this sunny morning. And I solved the problem of seating by asking 2 young boys if I could share their table for 4. They looked almost done, just nursing their drinks.

The boys nodded and made room for me as I introduced myself. They knew immediately I was ‘from away’ (most on this tiny island are). Cody, a freckle-faced, buzz-cut boy with an easy manner, was in 6th grade. Jim was taller, light-haired, lanky and a bit awkward. He was in 7th grade. These best friends went to the only school on the island which had 2 graduates last year. How long had they lived on the island? I could have guessed the answer just by their manner: They were not ‘from away’. They were true islanders.

What were they doing on their summer vacation from school? They were lobstering. In fact Jim and Cody had been lobstering all morning on Cody’s boat. This island, which is way off the coast, is one of the lobster capitals of Maine. It’s also one of the most populated islands in Maine. “How long have your families been on the island?” Jim, whose last name was Brown, confirmed my hunch, answering “Since the 1600s.” I asked Cody his family name and he rattled off a bunch including Brown, Hopkins, Carver, Duffy, Dyer, Drury, and, after some hesitation, “And the Smiths…and the other Smiths.” I laughed. They were both essentially related to all the year-rounders on the island. “My cousin owns this restaurant.” Jim added proudly. “What’s her last name?” He replied, “I don’t know.”

Besides providing the world with lobsters, this island used to export granite including for the erection of major monuments and bridges. But many of the old granite quarries are now swimming holes. Many are concerned that the island is being bled dry of resources and that the waters will stop offering up her riches. The ecology of the entire coast is skewed. Cod and crab are no longer here. And there have been several dry spells for lobster including this year. What would these young islanders do then for their livelihood? What were they being taught in school?

“Would you ever move?” They were resolute. “No.” They said in unison, without giving the question a thought. I understood adding, “Why leave heaven, right?” They nodded. This island’s winter population of 1100 swells in the summer when wealthy families settle in for the season.

I told them I worked in 3rd-6th grades creating Kids’ Councils. Cody seemed interested in this. But then he added a cheeky comment. “I’m going for the record on detentions.” I said that teaching is changing and that teachers are only supposed to talk 20% of the time. “Really?” Jim said, encouraged to hear his boredom might soon be lifted. “Learning has to be relevant and active to be engaging. It’s hard to learn when you’re being lectured at right?” They both nodded vigorously.

Winters are brutal and isolating. They said they’d lost several teachers last year. “That’s hard on us.” I asked if they frequented their terrific public library. They had rarely stepped foot inside. “Oh yeah. I used to get videos there sometimes.” Jim suddenly corrected himself. Cody added, “And we have a library at school.”

I asked what they liked studying the most. Jim said quickly, “Phys. Ed.” And he added screwing up his face. “I hate science. We studied something called…it sounded like erosion…but that’s not it.” “Evolution?” “That’s it! I don’t believe in that kind of stuff. I’m a Christian. Adam and Eve were the first people. That’s what I believe.” He added there were 3 churches on the island and 1 was not ever used. But he added proudly, “My uncle started a church in his garage.”

Just as I mused, “What’s left to say?” Cody jumped up and told Jim he had to leave. And Jim left shortly after. Maybe they were going back out lobstering. I wondered what would happen to these boys if the lobster trade, the only one they knew – the only one they were apt to know – dried up. They were already working, and way under age. Their range of skills and knowledge was already narrowed.

I didn’t have enough time to ask Jim and Cody if they were aware of the inevitable changes for their island. However, I would not have pursued this with them without a thoughtful plan. But I couldn't stop thinking about them and all the other kids here. I imagined a way to approach this issue at their school: A way to teach about the local ecosystem and the choices the residents and businesses must make to lead to abundance not scarcity. A fun interactive course using tools like The Cloud Institute’s fishing game in which teams come up with ways to fish less to end up with more. And I imagined asking them to each create an asset map: To go around the island and plot out the balanced and disrupted systems. To mark ‘renewables’ and ‘non renewables’ on the resources they found. The island has vast areas of pristine marshland, tide pools and primordial forest.

The integration of math, reading, writing, and social studies would enrich this science lesson. Rachel Carson lived on an island less than 1 hour away, as the crow flies. A lively discussion of The Silent Spring would get them thinking about our impact on the environment. The economics of cooperative fishing and the history of the lobster industry would be rich with relevant information. They could research the energy cooperative that installed giant wind turbines at the top of the hill to power the island. How do they work? Why are they important to the island? Would this new understanding motivate Jim, Cody and the rest of their classmates to talk to their parents, their peers, to the generations of lobstermen about the future of this island?

The students could make their learning visible using a Learning Wall and invite their friends and families to come to the school and add to it? They could host an event at the public library and get the whole island to witness their discoveries and start a dialog. They could make sure their findings get to their elected officials. Ultimately, these youngest lobster boys and girls could be a catalyst for positive change in this land in which they are so invested, which is so much a part of who they are.

Alone now at this table I finished breakfast. I watched out the door to the porch at Seaside and there were Jim and Cody. They seemed so far away now. In the sunlight, these 2 carefree boys kicked their heels in the air before running off to lobster again. This was just another crystal clear day in paradise for these 2. And they were loving every minute of it.

Notes: all names have been fictionalized. This was written in 2015 and awareness of environmental issues has since increased dramatically in Maine. Much thanks to Kathleen Kmet Becker for her inspiration, wisdom and encouragement.

Maine has adopted the Common Core. The Maine Department of Education was also part of the review process of the C3 Framework which calls for the integration of the disciplines of social studies: economics, history, geography and civics.