Ronja is a teacher at Norway's smallest school with only three students

SØRBURØY, NORWAY: – The first time I traveled out here, I got really sick. The waves were hitting the boat, and I almost threw up. I thought, 'Oh my God, what have I said yes to?', Ronja Constance Ellingsen says.

While she was in the final stretch of her teaching studies at NTNU in Trondheim this past spring, she came across a job ad from Frøya municipality: exciting schools out by the ocean and a signing bonus of 80,000 NOK (approximately 7,500 US dollars).

She applied, had a Teams interview, and soon received a job offer for Sørburøy.

Without ever having visited the place, she said yes.

When she finally set foot on the dock this summer, seasickness was replaced with love.

– All the students were there, and the island was very idyllic. I fell in love with the house I got to rent, and people were very welcoming, she says.

"All the students" sounds like a lot. But she is a teacher at Norway's smallest school. There are 20 people living on the whole of Sørburøy. The school has three students.

– I'm really curious to see how the teaching will go, Ronja says.

As long as there are children ...

It’s the day before school starts, and she is once again on her way to Sørburøy, together with teacher and head of studies at Sørburøy School, Janne Navdal Marøy. They’ve been spending a professional development day on the nearby island of Mausund. 

Today, the sea is calmer. On deck, there’s a smell of crab and monkfish from the catch from the fish processing plant. Inside, they’re selling soft drinks and potato chips.

Mausund is also where the students go for swimming lessons. Soon, there will be pottery courses there as well. But the sometimes rough boat trip and the inconvenient boat schedules mean that the students can't commute daily. Therefore, the teachers have to come to Sørburøy and stay. 

The municipality promises that as long as there are school-age children on the island, there will be a school.

In recent memory, there haven’t been more than ten students at Sørburøy School. But in recent years, the number has dropped to a dramatically low level. People on the island count on their fingers how many children are left, how many are being born, and, if they’re lucky, whether someone moves there.

– That the students have few others to interact with is both good and bad. But it’s a safe place, says Janne.

She herself left a permanent job at a large school in Bergen in favor of Sørburøy two years ago. Now she’s trying to influence the municipality, the county municipality, and public transport. They need to make the island an attractive place to live so that more people will follow.

– We're doing what we can to get families with children to move here. I’ve fallen in love with this place, and I'm very engaged, says Janne.

Ronja agrees and has plans in place:

– We want to start a dialogue with the municipality so they can recruit a family with children to move out here. They've done it before, after all, she says.

The express boat passes hundreds of islands and skerries, stopping at Gjæsingen, then Bogøyvær. A few tourists and summer residents get on and off. In winter, the houses are empty.

– It’s really sad if Sørburøy ends up being depopulated, like the surrounding islands. Coastal culture is a very important part of Norwegian culture. Politicians need to spend more money on small communities, Ronja urges.

As the last stop, Sørburøy, approaches, a camper van tourist from Eastern Norway stands up and looks out through strips of salt that have settled on the windows. He has been to almost all the islands here, but he won’t be getting off at Sørburøy. It’s car-free, has no accommodation, and the boats run too infrequently.

“That’s definitely not the center of the world. Jeez,” he exclaims, settling back into the leather seat.

Waffles and tea

 It's past eight on this Thursday morning, and the first day of school after summer break is underway. Josephine (6) is bursting with stories and observations after a long summer vacation. They tumble out like playful lambs, hard to catch.

– You have to remember to raise your hand, teacher Janne reminds her.

She gathers herself, raises her hand, and gets a nod in response. There’s a few seconds of silence.

– Now I’ve forgotten what I was going to say.

In the row behind, Anna and Petter, both 14 years old, sit patiently. They’re in ninth and tenth grade, respectively. It’s Anna's turn to speak:

– Anton and Gucci are doing well; they weren't sent away. They're on their own island.

Her family has many wild sheep on this and other islands. Some get sent to the slaughterhouse. But Anton and Gucci have been following Anna around since they were lambs and are as protected as the nature reserve they wander in.

On the first day of school, there are waffles, peppermint tea, small talk, and a short trip to the school's lean-to shelter. They also start working on a school newspaper.

Life goals

For the most part, the three students are together. When the classes are split, Josephine has her own teacher in her own classroom.

– Of course, the youngest one can't keep up with the older students' theory lessons. In some subjects, there’s a shared theme. We discuss it together before they split up. Then we go around and follow up with each student individually, Janne explains.

In addition to the two teachers who live on the island, a traveling teacher comes for math lessons. In other words, teacher density is high.

For 20 years, a teaching couple ran the school on the island, along with a school band. After they left, the band was disbanded, and several teachers have tried their luck. Some have stayed only a few months.

For the first day of school, Ronja brought a get-to-know-you game she made herself. The die is rolled, and the pieces move to a new question.

– What is your goal in life? she reads before answering:

– It’s to try new things and live an adventure.

Josephine gets the question, – What is important for you to be happy at school?

– I don’t think it’s very fun because I don’t have many to play with. Petter and Anna don't let me into the ball court, she says.

But improvements are on the way. She has a younger sister starting next year and has been promised a trampoline at the school.

– They like to play together sometimes. Anna and Petter take care of her. But I understand that she wants more friends her age, Janne comments.

– Not much going on here

In two years, both Anna and Petter will have graduated. Like many others before them, they plan to move to Frøya and live in a dorm when they start high school.

– There were ten students when I started. Once Anna and I leave, there won't be many left. I doubt the school will be around much longer, Petter says.

The two have been friends since kindergarten, which has since closed. Petter's older brother lives on the island with his partner. They own a house and fishing boat. Their father is also a fisherman.

– There's a small chance I’ll do the same. It’s quite cozy here, and I never get bored. But there's not much going on here, he says.

The school day is over, and the students head down to the dock. One of the day's highlights is the arrival of the express boat. At the local shop, which also functions as a post office and a kind of library, we find Susann Johansen, Petter's mother.

– I’ve had kids at that school for 25 years, and now my last one is about to finish,” she says, nodding towards her youngest.

She recalls her own time as a student, living in a dorm on Frøya.

– It’s incredible that they’re kind enough to let the school stay here,” she says, thinking of Frøya municipality.

Just a few weeks ago, Ronja's belongings were loaded onto a trailer from the express boat. Hitched to a four-wheeler, it was driven up the narrow gravel road. 

On the living room walls, pictures of Bob Dylan hang alongside artwork from her practical master's degree in arts and crafts: a photograph of a rusty industrial building with embroidery on it.

– I’m passionate about giving students aesthetic learning experiences and ensuring they get to use their bodies in teaching, says Ronja.

Her master's thesis was about urban exploration – the practice of exploring abandoned places and buildings. There's not much urbanity to be found on the island. But there's plenty of archipelago.  The island is located within the Froan Nature Reserve, which spans over 400 square kilometers, making it the largest marine reserve in Norway.

When the workday ends, a profound silence settles over the island, broken only by the autumn storms, the birds nesting in spring, the occasional bleating of sheep near the house, or when Bob Dylan’s voice drifts through open patio doors, singing about the changing winds. 

– I love sitting out here, listening to music. But I have been a bit scared in the evenings because I’m actually afraid of the dark and have heard stories about ghosts in this house. So it’ll be interesting to see what it's like when winter comes, and it gets even darker, Ronja chuckles.

She has set a goal to live and work on Sørburøy for two years before reassessing. Maybe she’ll even buy a house and stay, she wonders.

– You can be lonelier in a big city than on a small island. I’m having a great time and think this is a lot of fun. I think the coming year will be wonderful, she says, adding:

– This weekend, I’m throwing a housewarming party. I’ve invited everyone on the island.