Meet Our New Intern: Isabelle Whittall

I used to bring my books with me to primary school and then keep them underneath the textbooks we worked from, so that even in five-minute breaks I could switch reading material and get a few pages in of whatever story was consuming me that day. On one afternoon, I had switched to Harry Potter and then never switched back. The bell rang, and everybody got up from their desks and left, and I did not. My teacher, Mrs. Pearson, was unfazed. “Third time this week, Isabelle,” she said. “You’re going to have to leave at some point.” While reading, I was capable of being completely unaware of life happening around me.

So yes, I did have that stuck-in-a-book element as a child. I was also vivacious, athletic, imaginative, and talked all the time. I remember having a running dialogue in my head which was framed as a narrative, as if I was going through life writing my own story. Lines would surface amid my thoughts, sometimes funny quips about baking calamities or beach days, sometimes deeper reflections about siblinghood or coveted friendships. When I was younger and hadn’t quite learned about social norms and appropriate settings, a lot of these words were out loud— to my brother, sister, mom, dad, neighbor, classmate, and often my chickens. (I grew up with a lot of pets, and I chatted to all of them. I was convinced they were listening and responding as they clucked or meowed back).

Amidst this background as a natural storyteller, I also developed a love for words themselves. I liked to try them out in my mouth, considering syllables and sounds, wondering about different ways people pronounced letters. My father helped with this interest in a frustrating way. When I went to him as a child with a “what does ____ mean?” question, he never responded with a definition. He would approach it by asking me questions. What does the prefix mean? Have you seen a prefix like that in other words? What is the root of the word? And once I had figured out what a root was: can you remember other words that sound like that? Does it sound like a word you know in French? His method could be fatiguing. But I learned etymology this way, slowly and surely. Eventually I didn’t need to ask nearly as much, because instead of giving me an answer, my father had given me a toolkit.

Recognizing the history involved in words was huge for me. All my life, I have had a deep interest in the humans that came before me. How they talked, wrote, thought, cared, dreamed, supposed, interacted. Words offer a portal to a past world, both in antiquated stories and in literal structure. As I have grown, my love of discovery has been spouting a new leaf, a love of creation. Words can be written to capture memories, spin art, decree importance. Words can be spoken to ask questions, share responses, form bonds. I suppose, then, that my commitment to humanity has always been apexed by our ability that sets us apart from other species: our speaking and writing. Our communication. And there is another side, of course, which is listening. A balance of input and output, of sharing and creating space, is where communication becomes power. I am thrilled to be helping Sundress contribute beautiful and important voices to our age’s ongoing conversation.

Isabelle Whittall (she/her) is from Oakland, California and Montréal, Québec. She is currently pursuing an undergraduate Philosophy degree with a Minor in Political Science at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. A believer in the importance of conversation, Isabelle is bubbly and curious, and co-hosts the radio show Hail! Discordia! on CITR 101.9fm.