Space, time and stories: reflecting on a week on the Isle of Eigg

Meg Wilcox is a journalist, podcaster and journalism professor based in Calgary, Canada. As a PhD researcher in Media and Cultural Policy at the University of Glasgow, her practice-based research looks to ways journalists and audio makers can be more collaborative and inclusive in how they tell stories.

Meg’s blog post documents her time on the Isle of Eigg as part of a PhD Civic Engagement Residency offered in collaboration between Bothy Project and Thinking Culture, School of Culture & Creative Arts at the University of Glasgow. This opportunity was part of Bothy Project’s Fieldwork Residency strand.

It’s a gloriously warm Thursday afternoon — much warmer than I’d expected and packed for — as I walk along the single-lane road to Eigg Primary school, my backpack loaded with podcasting equipment for a workshop. As I pass the vibrant green tin building that used to be the island shop, now a community museum, I hear the faint sound of little voices singing… growing louder as I make my way to the front gate. 

A gray road stretches on the right hand side. On the left there is a traffic sign that reads "School" with an image of two children walking.
On the road just outside Eigg Primary.

Entering the yard, I see that the primary’s 12 students and teachers are taking advantage of the sunshine to hold their music class outside. Standing in a circle, they practice two songs in Gaelic: the first is a traditional ballad about a man looking for lost cows (with the promise of getting a girlfriend if he returns them!) while the second is an energetic ode to the small isles, driven by the students’ stomping feet as they sing their hearts out.

It’s hard to not fall into these sorts of idyllic, nostalgic descriptions when talking about my week on Eigg. Certainly, the island’s rich history — dating from the Iron Age! — its agricultural roots and stunning natural views make it easy for a history nerd like myself to paint the picture of a place almost trapped in time. No matter where I wandered, the island’s history was evident — from the Kildonan Graveyard (the site of St. Donnan’s monastery in 600AD) to the WWII memorial not too far from Laig Beach. In more recent history, Eigg is also known for its community buyout in 1997 — a landmark purchase that put the island under the stewardship of the Isle of Eigg Heritage Trust, with community members helping develop the area’s strategic plan and guide decisions and development. 

On a very sunny day, with mountains in the distance and a stunning landscape viewed from high up on Cleadale mountain.
One of Eigg’s many idyllic views, looking down on Cleadale and over to Rum

But spending too much time in the past can come at the cost of appreciating the present and looking to the future. I was reminded of this earlier in the week during a community workshop though my residency, where participants noted that a lot of what we see and hear about Eigg today isn’t necessarily from the local perspective. Most media outlets drop in to report on a story that interests the mainland, then head right back; much about Eigg online is from travel bloggers and influencers enthralled by the island’s history and photo ops. The consensus from the folks at the workshop was that much of the media talk around Eigg is still based in the buyout, despite the fact it was almost 30 years ago. There’s a rich archive of Eigg’s history — but who’s telling its story today?

Who gets to tell stories — and how! — is at the heart of my thesis research. Inspired by community-centred and accessible media practice, I’ve spent the last year collaborating on a podcast with a local group back at home in Calgary, Canada. I wasn’t surprised that this theme came up halfway across the world on a small island in the Inner Hebrides — as we all work to navigate information and experience in a fast-paced and fragmented digital world, these are questions that communities and media makers are asking regardless of geography.

A person with long blonde hair, wearing dark sunglasses, a bright turquoise windbreaker, and a darker turquoise knitted beanie. In the background, the Isle of Eigg is visible.
Meg on the ferry, with the Isle of Eigg behind her.

What will Eigg’s story look like 5, 10, 15 years from now? The answer might be back at the primary school. As the students wrapped up their music class, I sat down with them for our podcasting session — and within minutes of learning the gear, they were confidently running around recording. We gathered around a picnic table to make a podcast about space — one of their current study units — with everyone sharing their favourite facts (did you know that all the solar system’s planets, lined up, fit between Earth and the moon? I didn’t!) 

With incredibly little guidance, the students plunged straight into the podcast format, doing show IDs, promoting a (fake) website, and even singing their own theme song. Watching the ease with which the students moved from singing Gaelic ballads to recording podcasts and sharing space facts felt not only like a window into what Eigg is now, but what its next stories might be — new horizons and ideas that weave comfortably in and out of the old.

A ground of young school children are sitting around an outdoor bench. One is holding a microphone, one is speaking into it, and another child is listening to via headphones.
Students recording a podcast outside at Eigg Primary School.