to: Craft > #35 - Cresting the Wave
Tichnor Bros., Inc., A Mighty Breaker, White-Crested with Foam (64035), ca. 1930–1945. From the Tichnor Brothers Collection, in the Postcards Collection of the Boston Public Library, Arts Department. https://ark.digitalcommonwealth.org/ark:/50959/8g84np906
Cresting the Wave
Jay Roberts
There are times, in some of my most precious childhood memories, when I return to Hunting Island, South Carolina. There, amongst the waves, the Spartina grass, and the pluff mud, I would body surf during long and hot summer days. Bobbing in the shallows, my eyes would look out and east, toward the horizon, looking for that telltale rise moving toward shore with inevitability. First comes discernment. Is this the one? Is it the right size? Shape? Then comes the decision—a few quick and bold strokes out past where my feet could touch, and then a turn back toward shore. You feel big waves before you are in them. The water reaches out below you and curls you up as a child scoops up a playful kitten. I’ve got you, it says. Paddling hard to stay on the crest, I reached out and surrendered. If I timed it right, the crest would carry me effortlessly and magically to shore. If I missed the crest, the sea would playfully dump me, filling my mouth and nose with saltwater and little bits of shell. The ones I caught were just as much fun as the ones I missed. It was all part of the dance.
What helps someone catch the crest of a wave? Is it luck? Determination? Patience? Privilege? Yes. It is those things. But it is also action. And repetition. And reflection. Where am I now? Where do I want to go? These are often the questions crashing like waves at the feet of a graduate. The eyes look toward the horizon in anticipation of something. Something big and momentous and certain. Maybe sometimes. But I think it is more common for the waves to be a bit smaller and harder to discern. You must wade out and really look. And then, take the opportunity to catch a few. Some will dump you unceremoniously amongst the sand and the shells and the pluff mud. Some you will ride successfully to shore. You will get better at it as you go. Keep trying. The crest of the wave is not a singular moment; it is a never-ending process. And when you come out of the water, your skin all wrinkly and sunworn and ready for a rest, you will pass a younger you, jumping through the surf, ready to go again
Contextualization
The 2021 graduating class invited faculty member Jay Roberts to participate in
to : Craft, and to revisit a form of attunement discussed in class that finds students at their most receptive and expectant. The invitation led to a poetic essay, and to this postcard.
Biography
Jay Roberts
He/Him/His
Written by Mellanee Goodman
Located in Western North Carolina, nestled in the Blue Ridge mountains, Warren Wilson College is surrounded by forests and farms and grounded in social responsibility. Jay Roberts is the Vice President for Academic Affairs at Warren Wilson College. The entirety of Roberts’s career has been spent in the context of the liberal arts. His passion and commitment to the liberal arts have evolved into exploring the intersections and overlapping spaces between education, culture, and the environment. Place and placed-based education are prominent themes within Roberts’s research and scholarly pursuits, and intertwined in his educational philosophy. For Roberts, working at Warren Wilson College was a deliberate choice, as place and region are foundational attributes of the College’s mission and identity. Roberts believes that a residential learning environment enables students to develop their whole selves in a context of supportive and robust mentorship from faculty and staff. For an exciting read, stay tuned for his next book, titled Risky Teaching: Harnessing the Power of Uncertainty in Higher Education, scheduled for release in October 2021, published with Routledge Press.