South Africa

“Learning to Fly”

Yesterday during our bush walk Edward, one of our rangers, pointed out an antlion cone. He explained that antlions construct these cones to trap prey and remain in this larval stage for about two years before pupating into adult insects that resemble dragonflies. Once they reach adulthood, they have only about two months to live. I was struck by the irony that once this creature finally learns to fly, its life is almost over.

An antlion larvae – they sit at the bottom of their “cones” in the sand, waiting for prey to fall in.

It made me think about how often people limit themselves by underestimating their abilities. Too often, we fall prey to societal norms, expectations, or our own limiting beliefs.

Today while driving from Skukuza to Wakkerstroom, one of my travel companions asked our guide David how he became a guide. He shared that as a child he loved birds, and one day realized he could use that passion to improve his life and grow as an individual.

While looking for wildlife in Kruger National Park, David often stopped for birds. Lots of other park visitors would stop too and ask what we were looking at, and would then keep driving when they realized it was only birds. Khadijah ended up getting David a magnet for his vehicle so folks would know what we were stopping for!

Both of these moments reminded me of our role as educators. Yes, we must teach children to read, do math, understand civics, and explore science. But perhaps an even more important role is helping them discover and nurture their innate abilities so they can advance themselves in life as early as possible.

As we continue to explore this beautiful country, I challenge those traveling with me—and anyone reading this—to reflect on how we can help the children in our lives realize they can “fly” sooner rather than later, so they can soar into brilliant futures, using their talents to make the world better. Our time is fleeting, and I hope each of us makes the most of it.

Quick stop at the Lowveld Botanical Garden.

Today, we drove out of the “Kruger bubble” and began to experience another side of South Africa. The streets were lined with markets and people, full of color, energy, and everyday life—a striking shift from the vast wilderness we’d just left behind.

One of many fruit and vegetable stands we passed on our travels today.

Much like the animals we are encountering humans are territorial, often seeking those who most resemble us. This instinct, while ancient, is not conducive to a stable society. South Africa’s journey with school desegregation mirrors that of the American South: parents with privilege frequently move their children to private schools, leaving public schools with fewer resources and opportunities. As a result, many students lose their chance at true equality. As educators traveling here and building relationships with our South African peers, we are reminded that progress comes when we step beyond those boundaries—when we choose collaboration over separation, and invest in creating opportunities that lift all children, not just those within our own circle.

P.S. The South African countryside is breathtaking. Golden fields stretch endlessly beneath an expansive sky, dotted occasionally with small farms and clusters of trees. Along the roadsides, we see a remarkable display of entrepreneurial spirit—fruit and vegetable stands, barbershops, makeshift building-supply stalls, and even individuals collecting small tolls to maintain paths around washed-out roads. The landscape feels both vast and alive, a reflection not only of natural beauty but also of the resourcefulness of its people.

We are heading to an area that may not have service. If you don’t hear from us in the next few days, know we’re having a great time in Royal Natal National Park and will check back in when we have service!

New England

“First Impressions”

Hurry up and wait. That seems to be the theme for today. New England Institute Day One: it was an early start, with everyone arriving at the airport at 4:15am, or thereabouts. Though bleary-eyed and caffeine-deprived there is excitement in the air. We are all anxious to smell the salty air and catch our first glimpse of the island. The learning-about-each-other process begins as we share stories and talk about the things we are most excited to see. We talk about the families we leave behind, the school year we just completed, the travels we have taken or want to take. As the miles pass under us, we start to feel more and more like a cohesive group. We are in this together. To learn from each other and from the lands we are about to explore.

By mid-morning we landed in Manchester, New Hampshire and drove east to Portsmouth. Then we lunched at the Portsmouth brewery. Some enjoyed chowder or sweet potato soup while others dined on fish sandwiches and fries. With our bellies full we headed to the dock and the ferry to our destination — Appledore Island, Maine. We shared the bay with cormorants and black-backed gulls and motored (in the heat of day) towards Shoals Marine Laboratory.

We weren’t on just any old ferry, we arrived today with the weekly food shipment. Once we docked, a human conveyor belt of more than 50 people formed to make the unloading process work smoothly. It was quite a sight to see the wide assortment of cargo make its way up and over the rocky shore — boxes of kale or eggs; mattresses and luggage — all passed from hand to hand. All this took place in the midst of multiple pairs of very large and alert nesting gulls.

After a gourmet dinner on the patio, we learned about the geologic and human history of the Isles of Shoals (specifically Appledore Island and Shoals Marine Lab), presented by Drs. Hal Weeks and Jim Coyer.

As the sun set in this postcard-like setting, which we are actually a part of, we observed a few moments of silence to take it all in. The raucous calls of great black-backed and herring gulls descended upon our ears. Words cannot describe the beauty of this island!!

The sun sets on Shoals Marine Laboratory.

The sun sets on Shoals Marine Laboratory.