Last week, I was out of the office, which was very needed. My schedule has been waking up between 4 and 6 am for the past few months to work and grind until 7 or 8 in the evening. I have also worked some weekends. My body, mind, and spirit needed a moment to unplug and recharge. I am blessed that eight other friends and family said they’d unwind with me. So, we scurried out of our respective cities away to Martha’s Vineyard for a week of sand, salt water, and smiles.
One morning, my sister, Lindsay, Lindsay’s friend, and I woke up in time for the Polar Bears. Like other traditions on the Vineyard, the Polar Bearst is simple and more about the people who gather. Starting July 4th and lasting until the end of the summer, each morning from 7:30 until about 9 am, a group of Black women elders gather at Inkwell Beach for morning water aerobics and affirmations. They meet at the part of the beach just past the multicolored Victorian homes and the gazebo, where a lifeguard chair looms near the rocks dividing the beach. This is also the most accessible entrance to the beach, as a wheelchair-friendly textured runway stretches from the sidewalk onto the sand.
Polar Bears began over in the 1940s as a morning swim. Men would swim from the Steamship Authority dock on the Nantucket Sound into the Island Queen dock in the Oak Bluffs Harbor. After some time, those who couldn’t swim but still wanted to participate started a water aerobics portion where exercisers would do jumping jacks, standing crunches, and high knees. Some elders have participated in morning water aerobics since the 50s and 60s.
So my sister and I formed a circle with adults and children of all ages and genders, lifted our knees, contracted our abs, and pumped our fists throughout the warmup, workout, and motivation segments. Despite needing water shoes to save my feet from cramping while dodging shells and rocks, I enjoyed the morning routine.
There are some rules to the Polar Bears, as with any semi-secret society. The first is heard as soon as you hit the brisk morning water. Walking out from the beach past the rocks into deeper water, Lindsay and I watch the women push their knees up to their chest, bobbing up and down.
“Water above your shoulders,” shouts an elder in a flouncy blue and white once piece from the center of the circle. The rest of the exercisers sing to keep our knees up, so my sister and I fall into line and start moving to the tempo the elders have set.
To keep your body from getting too cold, Polar Bears must keep all but their neck and head below the water while exercising. Elders take this safety measure seriously, especially for older members more sensitive to temperature changes.
Just before we started the program, one woman with a short salt and pepper cropped fro announced that we needed to get into a circle. As we amble into formation, she bellows, “We’re not making a cell; get into a circle.”
I turn to my sister, “Wow, she reminds me of a teacher. She must be an educator.”
“Before she retired, she was a New Orleans school district superintendent. Now she’s on the board of education on Martha’s Vineyard,” the Bear next to me, a kind-faced white woman, confirms.
Moving through the warmup and exercise portions, I struggle to keep up the energy our fearless leaders exude. I would need at least 2 to 3 cups of coffee before I even attempted to rally nearly 80 people of all backgrounds into anything.
Lindsay and I are inducted into the Polar Bears at the end of our time in the water. The ceremony follows the theme for the morning a little spiritual and steeped in culture, a little serious, but mostly lots of goofy fun.
The elder who began our routine recited a land acknowledgment. Bears should remember whose land we occupy and how we can better steward it. She reminds us that although we’re on Martha’s Vineyard to rest and relax, we should be kind and do something to serve someone else today. Before beginning our sharing circle, she tells the group the history of the Bears and how they evolved into the group here today.
Then, everyone gets the chance when we go around the circle to say their name and a word to describe how they feel. For the induction, veteran bears surround the baby bears and sing campfire songs. After a quick dance break to end our morning together, we ext the waters and move to the fellowship and breakfast portions of the morning.
Working out in a large group facing the horizon and sunrise connects the body, mind, and spirit. I have no choice but to turn my attention to the people next to me and what we’re doing. Our elders reminded us that all this is done in service of something larger than ourselves. The intention behind our movements and fellowship transformed the circle into a sacred space. Not many words had to be said about the trouble our world is in for us to understand how these exercises fortify our beings for the work to be done out of the water.
The last rule of Polar Bears is unspoken but just as important. I learned the lesson as Lindsay, her friend, and I cleaned up from breakfast and started saying our goodbyes. On the sidewalk near several benches where breakfast had been set up, I had started a conversation with another elder who hadn’t been in the water with us but came in the middle of the fellowship. She opened up a folding table, a signup sheet, and more materials for a reading of the Frederick Douglass Fourth of July Speech happening in about an hour or two. After some small talk, the subject of arts and writing came up. I mentioned liking to write about art fairly casually, and the woman before me lit up.
“Did you know I run a residency on the Vineyard for writers and artists?”
“I have heard about it but haven’t been able to find much information,” I said.
She continued to tell me about Renaissance House, the point of the house, and that I might like to visit it some time while I was on the Vineyard. She also shared she was working on a history of the Polar Bears and a piece on Picasso. Unfortunately, before our conversation could continue, Lindsays’s friend mentioned she was ready to return to the house and shower.
As the three of us walked back towards the car, a stout man in an Omega Psi Phi Fraternity t-shirt ran our way to catch up with us.
“Do you know who you were just talking to?”
“No, could you tell us?”
“That’s poet Abigail McGrath, Dorothy West’s niece. I just wanted to make sure you understood who you talked with before you left. Have a good day, ladies.” He jogged back over to the group.
After mulling over the conversation, I was surprised she hadn’t taken the time to unload on me the history or legacy of the residency or even her family. Maybe she assumed I knew of her. Or if I didn’t, perhaps she was content to watch me speak without me realizing who I was connected with. Or, maybe for her, our conversation wasn’t about whether or not I knew how important she was. Like the elders in the water, it was more important for me to connect and relax for a moment so that once vacation ended, I could focus on the work awaiting me.
Rapid Fire Thoughts
📺 I’m enjoying this season of the Bachelorette a lot. Charity is very charismatic and I like how diverse her slate of dudes are.
📚 I’m still in Frederick Douglass land researching the universal suffrage movement. But while I research, I started a collection of thrillers translated short thrillers Seven Empty Houses by Samanta Schweblin and it’s right up my alley with ghosts, hauntings, and haunted tales.
☀️ My thighs burned on this vacation. With extreme heat and an early storm season, I have been talking a lot more this summer about our climate and reading this article in The New Yorker by Jia Tolentino.
This just made me so excited for my upcoming vacation to MV.