When people think about islands in the Northwest, they often think of small communities that can only be reached by ferries. Filled with bed and breakfasts and quaint shops these islands in the northern part Puget Sound are in fact really nice to visit and get brunch.
I didn’t grow up on one of those islands. I grew up on an island that had I-90 going through it.
Mercer Island is located in Lake Washington which is a lake just east of Seattle. On the other side of this lake is Bellevue, the largest suburb of Seattle. This city is a middle/upper class community with more Starbucks per capita then is logical and a feeling of serenity despite the fact that there is a freeway that intersects the north part of the island.
Diversity in this island was unique when I grew up. With very few African-Americans and a large Jewish and Asian-America population, my sense of racial normality didn’t reflect much of America. I had no concept that Jewish people were a minority. I didn’t have any friends who were Black or African-American until college because, there were so few in my community.
Systems of oppression were clearly present in retrospect, but growing up on this island I had no concept of the racism and classism that informed the make-up of this city. There was a sense of preservation and control in this city. If there was an option to turn the bridges that connected us to Bellevue and Seattle into draw bridges, many people on this island would probably be in favor of this medieval idea to keep the others out.
The desire to create a feeling of a safe community was a desire to do the best for the children in the city as much as it was an expression of unacknowledged bias and insecurities. The outsides of houses and cars that were parked outside often were not reflected in what was actually inside of the house and the lifestyle of its occupants.
Like in high school, conformity was a measure of success. Differences were only embraced if they didn’t threaten mainstream narrative of whiteness.
That doesn’t mean that this island wasn’t a wonderful place to grow up. The issues related to this community were not unique, and despite these problems recognize there was a much good that occurred in this city.
The island was filled with friendly people, wonderful parks, and great cultural opportunities. You could find on this island, as my family did, amazing private music teachers, a wide variety of ethnically diverse and restaurants, and a wonderful youth theater. Since the island was used by Starbucks to try out a lot of different designs and innovations, we had a lot of Starbucks. This may not be seen as a good thing by some, but growing up, these places provided a feeling of comfort.
The island felt like a college campus. One could drive around the entire island in half an hour and feel a sense of safety in every corner of this city. Walking down the quiet streets on warm summer nights as a teenager, this city felt like a place apart from the chaos of the world, somehow better, and somehow right, innocent, and idealized.
Senior year my family moved off the island to Bellevue. I visited the island a couple times the following year when I visited from college but since then I haven't been back. Part of this has to do the with my relationships with my high school peers after high school. The other piece is a little harder to articulation. I have great memories of Mercer Island but I don't miss this place.
We miss things that somehow feel incomplete. This feeling can change over time. I missed my maternal grandmother for a year or two after she passed away, but I don't miss her anymore. I have fond thoughts about her, and I'm proud that I knew her. I came to a point where I understood that the time we spent together was enough, and I was blessed to have the time to hold her in my heart.
My time on my island was enough for me. When I did miss Mercer Island, I missed the idea more than the reality. The older I got the more I realized the idea wasn't real, and was a fantasy that would pull me away from who I wanted to and needed to become.
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