THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, November 7, 1994 TAG: 9411070048
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B3 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY PHILIP WALZER, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: VIRGINIA BEACH LENGTH: Medium: 99 lines
All hell's broken loose - again - on the island of Chiquot.
A gun was found in school. Teachers are bracing for a strike. The paper company's backing out of a plan to donate two school buses. And some disgruntled islanders are talking about getting another company to replace it.
Not to worry.
The council passed a new budget that offers teachers 5 percent raises and places police officers in the school. Without thrashing the company, island leaders also started looking for other sources of transportation.
And the island's manager, Calvert Acklin, walked that political fine line: He didn't block the move to woo the other company, while at the same time appeared to support the paper mill. ``It would be like chopping off your left hand to get rid of them,'' he said. ``I don't have a problem with you guys right now; hopefully, we won't have any problem in the future.''
It all happened in 50 minutes.
That's because the meeting happened not at city hall, but at Virginia Wesleyan College.
Chiquot is an imaginary island created by assistant sociology professor Tom Lopez and the 25 students in his communities course. Once a week, they drop their textbooks to take on their Chiquot roles - environmental watchdog, sheriff, budget director - to get some real-life lessons in citizenship.
``I want them to understand what civic rights are,'' Lopez said. ``I want them to establish some kind of responsibility.''
This is the fifth year Lopez has brought Chiquot (pronounced CHEE-kwa) to life. Before, in his ``community'' class, ``you'd go in and you'd give assignments. I didn't like the fact that they treated it like a regular class. I wanted something different.''
He's got it.
No one is quite sure where the U-shaped island is located in the world, but its motto is ``In Lopez We Trust.'' And the national anthem, to the tune of ``Someone's in the Kitchen with Dinah,'' goes: ``Someone's on the island of Chiquot, someone's on the island of Chiquot, someone's on the island of Chiquot . . . who is it?''
But not everything on the island is loopy.
At last week's meeting, there was the standard budget-pinching rhetoric from the leaders. Acklin approved creating a new school, but warned: ``It can't cost as much as the first school. It's going to have to be a cheaper, smaller school - or something.''
There were the standard windy speeches. Jennifer Walker read a memo from the Audubon Society attacking the paper company for trying to ``continue its poor land use and polluting practices. We strongly urge your group . . . to resist this attempt at deception.''
And there was politicalese. ``I want to make a motion to the amendment for the previous motion,'' Acklin said.
Pause.
``Do you recall the previous motion?''
The island has had its problems in previous years, some invented by Lopez, some by the students.
Teachers have always agitated for more money. The harbor was once filled with debris. (Some islanders said the paper company was to blame; the paper company, of course, denied the charges but kicked in for the cleanup.)
And then there was the ugly police-brutality case involving Fifi.
Fifi was the police dog who jumped two tourists, who then fell into the harbor. They survived, but the town got a new police chief. Fifi is now on a tighter leash.
Lopez's assessment of this year's leaders: ``They're getting a lot more done, but they're going to spend a lot more doing it. I think they'll probably end up in the red.''
The Chiquot Island role playing often continues after class. Stephanie Mundy, a junior sociology major who is the principal, spoke incredulously of the islanders' ``flippancy toward children. At some meetings, I get the comment: `We don't care, we don't have children.' They thought 165 students (per class) was fine. No one has an interest in their future.''
Mundy also was a little peeved that the council was too cheap to pay for another principal for the new school. She'll have to shuttle from one school to another.
Acklin, a senior majoring in social psychology, said that like every politician, he's learned to ``act like I know what I'm talking about.'' But he hasn't learned the mudslinging part, and doesn't want to.
``There's a need to think about how you're affecting the community as a whole,'' he said. ``You can't make a decision without thinking about the consequences of that decision. I would hope other government leaders do that and not allow themselves to be swayed by party politics.''
Last week, senior Chris Linton, the former sheriff, stopped by to see how the island was doing. That's not unusual, Lopez said.
``Even people who have graduated ask me, `How's the island?' I've never had anyone ask me: `What's new in social research?' But they do keep up on island politics. . . .
``They think it's a real place.'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by LAWRENCE JACKSON
At last week's meeting, Calbert Acklin, leader of the imaginary
Chiquot island community, approved creating a new school, but
warned: ``It can't cost as much as the first school. It's going to
have to be a cheaper, smaller school - or something.''
by CNB