Coquina clams (Donax variabilis) are tiny, multicolored mollusks that decorate the east coast shorelines. Despite spending many summers at the beach in my life, I had never noticed them before. Perhaps only one or two centimeters long, they could easily be mistaken for shell bits or press-on nails lost to their owner. But at a closer glance, as the tide flowed in and out, these clusters of periwinkle, dusty pink, and marigold would briefly surface before hurriedly digging back into the sand. This fleeting dance, observed during my Arts+ trip to the Duke University Marine Lab, surprised me; even the bubbling edges of the tides supported a larger, unseen system, expanding my way of seeing the world.

I am part of a program called Arts+, a six-week experiential learning program that encompasses a wide range of opportunities. Back in Durham, I work with the Arts Administration team at Duke Arts developing practical marketing and production skills. Other parts of Arts+ involve engaging in arts workshops and field trips (like the Marine Lab!), acting as a sponge and absorbing my surroundings to the fullest. 

The Marine Lab was a special place to be. Despite scattered sprinkles and hazy grey skies, the bench area near the docks radiated with energy and community. Three, or maybe four, guitars circulated through an amorphous oval of students chattering and singing. People joined in whenever singing choruses to these somehow universal guitar songs, an unpredictable yet deeply welcoming connection, comforting like the water lapping against the docks in the distance.

“…an unpredictable yet deeply welcoming connection, comforting like the water lapping against the docks in the distance.”

The “Ready, Set, Resilience” initiative, built to help students in the aftermath of Hurricanes Dorian and Florence, is based at the Marine Lab. It creates a space for multidisciplinary Duke programs (Arts+, DukeEngage, etc.) and community members to discuss and learn about what resiliency, the ability to recover and adapt to an environmental disturbance, looks like in coastal communities. One of the Arts+ project teams called “Resiliency Through Puppetry” centers their work around the collection of nature fables titled “Bend in the Wind,” which offers a way for climate-centered stories to integrate into middle school curriculums without being purely didactic. When visiting their workshop, we experimented with scrap fabrics and reeds to make sea creature puppets, and I loved seeing the ideas we could come up with in a short amount of time. 

One of my favorite activities we did at the Marine Lab was a drawing workshop taught by Anna Wallace, Duke Arts Student Engagement Manager and Director of Arts+. Here, I learned to draw “expansively,” taking up as much space on the page as I could with syrupy-thick, yet flowing and continuous, lines. Although a simple tip, it resonated deeply. Drawing in this way taught me to trust my next steps and take up space in the real world, even when the drawing remained incomplete as parts of the object ran off the page. It represented how there will always be part of the story, part of the world, that is not known to us, and despite this, we should still carry ourselves with strength and resiliency. Another important part of the activity was drawing “70:30”: 70 percent looking at the object and 30 percent at our paper. During the exercise, I noticed how, to fill in the unknown, my brain would automatically draw what I thought the conch shell or horseshoe crab shell looked like, challenging me to confront my own biases. Only through deep observation of the object itself could I accurately depict the smallest grooves and bumps. Albeit on a small scale, the exercise showed that pushing boundaries and embracing the unknown is an act of personal resilience, mirroring how coquina clams constantly adjust to the unpredictable tides. On a larger scale, despite there being unknown in the world, we can control how our pen marks the page. 

“Drawing in this way taught me to trust my next steps and take up space in the real world, even when the drawing remained incomplete as parts of the object ran off the page.”

While the connection between arts and science can be harder to see at first, they share the common goal of observing the natural world and using hands-on learning for better understanding. The Marine Lab, a campus immersed in the coast and community of North Carolina, was the perfect place to foster resiliency. From a science lens, it brought up the topic of community ecology, or the study of how ecosystems interact within and with other ecosystems, leading to questions about what it means for people and their place. From an arts lens, the arts can make space for larger conversations in less tangible ways. In this place where boat drivers gave us a friendly honk as we jumped off the pier and where groups of students went fishing early in the morning, it provided a window into collective resilience and the joy that could be built from the community. 

While undoubtedly a field trip filled with beach skies and sun-soaked laughter, this venture was also a profound experience that brought introspection, observation, and questions. What does it mean to live a life of resilience? Resilience is not just about enduring, but about actively adapting and giving back. For coquina clams, the perfect depth in the sand—soft enough to burrow as water sweeps over them, but firm enough to become the ground beneath them—is a constant adjustment. And as they surface, they contribute to the larger ecosystem as filter feeders, cycling and removing food in dynamic equilibrium, promoting its overall health for years to come.

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Yasmine Kwong is part of the 2025 Arts+ Duke Arts Presents Admin team. She is a member of the Trinity class of 2028, studying Evolutionary Anthropology and Music at Duke University.

Day Kim is a member of the 2025 Arts+ Duke Arts Presents Admin team. She’s part of the Trinity Class of 2027, majoring in Visual Arts with a minor in Psychology and a certificate in Documentary Studies.