The Sacred Gate: A Portal to the Greater Good

As you travel down the road to our school, the first thing you see is a wall of concrete blocks and a huge metal gate. It’s a sliding gate that moves along a rail for vehicles, with a smaller swinging door tucked inside so people can pass through without opening the whole structure.

In many ways, that gate is the heartbeat of our security—it allows us to hear when someone is entering and ensures the space remains safe for our students. But on La Gonâve, maintaining a metal gate is a constant battle against the elements.

The Toll of the Sea

Because we are so close to the ocean, the salt air and moisture are relentless. They eat away at the iron—what we call Fe  in Kreyòl—causing it to rust and deteriorate quickly. Every two years, we have to make repairs; every five or six years, the gate becomes so "patchworked" that we have to replace it entirely to maintain its integrity.

When repair day comes, it’s a community event. We hire a local welder who arrives with his face shield to protect against the sparks and blinding light. If it’s break time, the children inevitably form a circle around him, mesmerized by the work. Usually, it’s the heavy rollers or the door hinges that give way first to rust and fatigue .

The "Sacred" Portal

The gate is a remarkable metaphor for our space. We paint it first with a red Rustoleum-style base to fight the salt, and then a bright, deep green. On the front, we proudly paint our name and logo: Pi Gwo Byen.

What fascinates me most is the respect this gate commands. In Anse-à-Galets, if you get on a motor taxi at the wharf or the airport and simply say "Pi Gwo Byen," the drivers know exactly where to take you. And while you might occasionally see graffiti on the surrounding walls, there has never been graffiti on our gate.

The community treats it as something "sacred"—a portal to a different kind of space.

Beyond the Threshold

When you pass through that gate, you don’t just enter a school; you become part of the Greater Good. It is the first port of entry into a place where we all work to help each other, our community, and our environment.

Maintaining this gate is more than just a facility chore—it is about preserving the sanctuary we have built together. It’s a reminder that even in a world that can feel "broken," there are portals to something better.