By: Serena Ratcliff '26
Starfish aren’t fish, even though it’s their most common name. They have no gills, scales, or fins. If you want to be correct, you can call them sea stars, though they aren’t stars, either. They are found in many areas of the sea, one being tidepools. To me, tidepools are like the suburban areas of the ocean where only select animals can survive or pay the rent. Tidepools can be exposed to the sun for hours, increasing water temperature and the threat of desiccation; only some animals can live in them, one being sea stars. But, not all sea stars can survive in tide pools; Anthropaster, Gorgonocephalus, Hymenaster, Pteraster, and Pseudarchaster cannot survive these conditions; they live in the ghetto of the ocean, otherwise known as the deep sea, a place where most sea animals slip through the cracks of algae and are forgotten by us. Nevertheless, there isn’t a big difference between the sea stars that can pay rent in the tidepools and those that can’t and fade into the deep sea to be neglected. For one, they both don’t have brains or hearts.
Even without brains, sea stars can accomplish many things. They pump seawater through their bodies instead of blood, which delivers nutrients to their organs and saves space. They don’t have any backbones, faces, or even heads. Their skin is tough and spiny, which deters some of their most vicious predators, like sea otters. Even if a sea star’s skin doesn’t prevent an otter from trying to snack on them, they can regenerate their arms, giving them a better chance of recovery. They also exclusively eat with their stomachs inside out, enveloping their prey and injecting it with enzymes to break it down. Sea stars have abilities that organisms with a brain or heart cannot match. Like many organisms, they can experience pain and learn, all without a brain or heart.
At times, I feel like I am a sea star. I know I can feel pain and learn, though sometimes I feel like I don’t have a brain. My feeling of not having a brain started when I came to Cate. I went from a public school in upstate New York, which was kind of like the ghetto of the deep sea. In public school, it’s easy to fall through the cracks; teachers disregard you if you're getting your work done, which I did. I did it well enough to move to Cate’s tide pools. Everyone around me at Cate was like a sea otter: welcoming, friendly, and all having a brain, unlike me. They learned to surf through Cate’s tides in their freshman year, whereas, in my freshman year in public school, I was taught how not to get trapped in the jaws of an angler fish. This made it hard for me to be a new sophomore; the Cate tidepools were constantly exposed to the sun, which differed from the cold, dark, and desolate brackish waters I was used to. I quickly felt the heat academically, athletically, and socially. I was getting rolled over by the waves of assignments every second. My first English essay earned me a flat B; I was put on thirds volleyball and had no friends in my classes. I felt like I might slip through the cracks back to the deep sea ghetto.
Initially, this was as tough as a sand dollar to swallow; I felt like sea otters were ripping my arms off. Without arms, I couldn’t hold on to the slippy algae of the tide pools. Then, day by day, assignment by assignment, my grip tightened because my arms regenerated, which is not something everyone can do, especially not sea otters. I was determined to learn to adapt to the ever-changing conditions of the tides. I consumed everything I could by turning my stomach inside out to new possibilities; I met with my teachers, played as hard as possible, and made friends. My enzymes attached to everything around me.
To this day, I still feel like a sea star, which may seem like a self-deprecating insult. However, I take pride in my sea star identity. Even without a brain, I have learned to surf the tidepools of Cate. This was not done quickly; it took most of my arms being eaten by otters for my grip to tighten and realize my unique talents. The sea star has the uncommon talent of regenerating arms and eating with their stomachs inside out, and I have the talent of learning how to adapt when I face challenges. Instead of letting the sun’s exposure dry me out, I have learned to consume it and have consequently developed a lovely tan. Not every animal can survive in tide pools or Cate. So far, even without a brain, by my use of taking in knowledge, I have been surfing these unexpected, challenging waves in the tidepools of Cate.
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