Island Notes from A Woofer by Melody S Wolfe – The Goose, The Duckling, and The Seaweed

There was a time, not that long ago, when I seriously considered running for office.
Not because I wanted power or a title, but because I genuinely believed for a long time it was the only way to slow the destruction of our environment and create meaningful change for our community.
I cared enough.
I still do.
But timing matters.
I have a daughter with autism who needs a level of support that doesn’t fit neatly into council meetings, campaigns, and politics. I’m also starting a conservation organization that I already know is going to need a lot of support, a lot of energy, and a lot of people willing to work together.
And conservation doesn’t care what political color you wear.
Recently I watched my island community get upset over how quickly the sargassum issue was addressed in Belize City while San Pedro has been struggling with it for years.
Almost immediately, the old sayings started making their rounds again.
“San Pedro is the ugly duckling.”
“San Pedro is the goose that lays the golden egg.”
And honestly?
I don’t blame anyone for feeling that way.
I almost jumped into the comments myself.
Almost.
But I didn’t.
Not because I don’t care.
Not because I disagree.
But because at some point we have to stop being keyboard warriors and start activating.
And I say that knowing full well I’m talking about myself too.
Most of us use the same excuses.
Work.
Family.
Exhaustion.
Nobody listens anyway.
And if we’re being honest, many of the people who have been carrying these conversations for years are simply tired.
Activists burn out too.
I know because I am one of them.
Lately I’ve been choosing peace more often than battle because my family needs me, my work family needs me, and sometimes protecting your own peace is how you survive long enough to fight another day.
But eventually San Pedro has to ask itself some hard questions.
Not about red or blue.
Not about this administration or the last one.
Because this conversation is older than all of them.
Years old.
Maybe decades old.
How do we organize ourselves better?
How do we lobby for greater representation?
How do we make sure communities generating so much of the country’s tourism revenue receive the support needed to deal with the realities that come with that growth?
How do we create stronger environmental protections before problems become crises?
How do we make our voices impossible to ignore?
At some point, we also have to talk about the uncomfortable stuff.
Who really controls our priorities?
Where does the money come from?
Who gets a seat at the table when decisions are being made?
Because where the money comes from matters.
Representation matters.
And if we’re serious about the future of San Pedro, those are conversations we eventually have to be brave enough to have.
Because this isn’t really just a sargassum conversation.
It’s an infrastructure conversation.
An environmental conversation.
A representation conversation.
A future conversation.
The world is changing.
Climate is changing.
Coastal communities all over the Caribbean are facing challenges our parents and grandparents never imagined.
We can’t keep trying to solve tomorrow’s problems with yesterday’s systems.
Mek we tell weself di truth.
Nobody is coming to save San Pedro except San Pedranos.
And dat no mean we fuss pan Facebook till two o’clock inna di maanin.
It means organizing.
Showing up.
Joining organizations.
Supporting environmental initiatives.
Attending meetings.
Registering to vote.
Holding leaders accountable no matter what color shirt they wear.
It means raising young people who believe they can do better than we did.
As for me, for now, I’m building people, building future leaders, and building conservation initiatives that I hope will outlast any election cycle.
One week we might talk about football, art, weddings, or the weird little things that happen on an island where everybody knows everybody.
Other weeks we’ll talk about conservation, community, politics, and the future of the place we all love enough to argue about.
To some of the younger generation, mobilizing and raising your voices. We see you. We are proud of you. Thank You.

Island Notes from a Woofer is a column by Melody Sanchez Wolfe, an artist, writer, wedding planner, entrepreneur, mother of three, and proud San Pedrana who notices a little too much and writes about it. Blending island life, culture, humor, nostalgia, community conversations, random observations, personal experiences, art, business, relationships, social commentary, and whatever else happens to wander through her beautifully chaotic neurodivergent brain that week, this column is part island diary, part storytelling, part open journal, and part love letter to San Pedro – the old, the new, the beautiful, the frustrating, and everything in between.