— by Lin McNulty —
It’s time, I believe, to reach a definitive, community-wide, agreed-upon answer (at least by a majority) to put a vital, ongoing question to rest.
The preponderance of those of us living on Orcas Island have come from somewhere else. There are, however, a few residents who were born here and have either left for awhile and returned, or who are still here. There is no doubt these folks are “locals” or true “islanders.”
What about the rest of us? How long does it take to be considered a “local” or an “islander?” Can we reach consensus on this imperative issue?
There are always varying numbers floating around; sometimes people say it takes ten years, while others say it takes 20 years, and still others say you can’t get there unless you were born here.
Which is it? And what’s the difference between a “local” and an “islander?”
I am in my 23rd year on Orcas and it seems my goal of being considered a “local” or an “islander” keeps getting notched up every year and that I’m never going to make it.
I think it depends on your perspective. If you were born here and have long family roots here, then you probably have a different perspective on things than if you moved here a week ago. Even long-time residents have different definitions on who is “local” and who isn’t. The old saw about asking two Orcesians for an opinion and getting at least three opinions back seems to hold true.
There seems to be a difference in how people viewed us after we had been here for five years: “So, are you going to stay? Is it worth investing serious effort in befriending you?”
Ultimately, I think the most important metric is whether you feel yourself to be a local, and how you behave towards both long-timers and newcomers.
After I’d been on Orcas about 25 years I went to an old gal who was 80-something, and born here, to point out that I now “belonged”. She looked me dead in the eye and said “I never thought you didn’t”. The same old sage also told me that there were about 3,00 people on the island when she was a kid but since then there had been several different batches of 3,000. I think Moana has a good point. If you put energy into everyone you meet at the same level you are going to be exhausted because they turn over so quickly. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder??? I’m finding after about forty years there are fewer and fewer people around with whom to check “facts”. Maybe attrition is the answer, Lin?
When we moved here we felt at home already. The people were so friendly. But we really felt included when we contributed to people in need at the time. To join others in a selfless act made me feel more welcome here than at any other place I’ve ever lived.
Good people here no matter how long you’ve lived. Especially if you make yourself part of the place
This has been fun. I’ve always thought that what mattered was if I agreed with the person or not.
Linda
I first heard ” have you been here for winter yet?” , then told “we don’t feel folks are local til they have been here 5 years; a second person disagreed: it was now notched up to 7 years. My opinion is that Orcas Island chooses its people; time on island is not such a factor as: do they volunteer, join in to help others in this caring community? Do they whine that things aren’t done as they were back home, and want to change things? Do they complain about what Orcas doesn’t have? Orcas spits out those who don’t belong here,don’t you think?
Thank you, Carol, for your comments. Your last sentence totally encapsulates my feeling about the island. When I first got here I was told “if the island likes you, it will provide.” I have since added, on many occasions, “if it doesn’t like you, it will spit you out.” And, in my 23 years, I have seen that happen to a number of people—some of whom I could tell right away were never going to be “islanders.” And I am grateful that it’s not for everyone. It would be pretty crowded if it were!
Interesting, Lyn! @ Carol Owens, agree with you on what makes an islander. Re: spitting out of who doesn’t belong here: i wish Orcas would spit some of its exploiters a lot sooner- before they destroy the environment for their own profit and wealth.
who’s not an islander? again it’s subjective. for me, it’s someone who proclaims to “love” it here, then proceed to put the most amount of development units on every inch of their parcel, cut down every madrona and other mature tree, for their “view,” make a mess of the environment for the neighbors down-slope from them, not even consider the fact that we share these islands with non-human inhabitants, many of them beneficial to humans, and then who turns around and sells their speculative development or mess, making a killing in profit, so they can and rip up the next piece of valuable “real estate.” Who else? bigots, ageists, sexists, and anyone who won’t live-and-let-live.
I believe that you are an islander if you don’t feel a need to race off to the mainland for whatever you think that Orcas cannot provide for you. There are many thoughtful comments on this vexing question, however, in the final analysis, you are not an islander until Roger Purdue says that you are.