2026 Peace Corps Week: Craig Severance went to Micronesia as PC volunteer, returned with new identity
Craig Severance came to the realization fairly early on in his Peace Corp volunteer work: His role wasn’t to change the island, but to learn from it.
This story is by University of Hawaiʻi at Hilo Professor of Political Science Su-Mi Lee as part of a series of stories to be published here at UH Hilo Stories this week celebrating 2026 Peace Corps Week, March 2-6, each day featuring a returned Peace Corps volunteer and new theme. Professor Lee’s research activity includes a years-long project documenting returned volunteers who have ties to UH Hilo and/or Hawaiʻi Island that includes written biographies as well as video and audio interviews. This story highlights retired UH Hilo anthropology professor Craig Severance.
Returned Peace Corps Volunteer: Craig Severance
Micronesia: 1967-1969
Today’s Theme: People Who Shape Us
In 1966, Craig Severance was an anthropology major with a fascination for Pacific cultures. When the Peace Corps announced a new program for the Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands, he applied and was admitted as a trainee even before the program was officially announced. Though he had to wait for the third group, Micronesia III, to begin, by November 1966, he arrived at training in Miami Beach as a true idealist, ready to turn his academic interests into a lived reality.
He spent months learning to build thatch houses and master the Trukese language, but the most significant part of his education didn’t begin until January 1967, when he stepped off a government vessel onto Piis Emwaar — a coral island less than a tenth of a square mile in size.
While the Peace Corps brochures had promised “Paradise,” Craig found a community of 230 people living with very little. However, what the island lacked in infrastructure, it possessed in human connection. The trajectory of Craig’s service was immediately shaped by a group of local residents who decided that this young American should not live as an outsider.
The first was the acting Magistrate, who met Craig upon his arrival. Rather than maintaining a formal, bureaucratic relationship, the Magistrate took Craig under his wing, becoming his “closest brother.” This bond was quickly followed by another: the school principal, a man just younger than Craig. The principal became Craig’s daily partner, teaching alongside him in a single thatch schoolhouse with a sand floor. These men didn’t just work with Craig; they fostered him into their matrilineal lineage.
This kin group of “brothers” and “clan sisters” provided the support system that allowed Craig to survive and thrive. They took on the responsibility of keeping him out of trouble, patiently correcting his cultural mistakes and refining his language skills.
The depth of this communal shaping became clear during the “Hungry Time.” When a poor breadfruit season hit the island, the 13 matrilineal kin groups took turns feeding Craig. In a moment of extreme scarcity, the community ensured their volunteer was cared for. This experience of shared hardship was a turning point for Craig. It replaced his academic “anthropological bent” with a deep, lived empathy. He was no longer just a teacher or a project manager; he was a member of a family that refused to let him go hungry.
Craig’s brothers also shaped him into a man of the lagoon. They taught him the high-stakes skills of the Pacific: how to restore and sail a traditional canoe and how to hunt for tuna. During one fishing trip, Craig found himself circled by three small sharks while his brother held the only spear. It was in these moments of adrenaline and trust that Craig transitioned from a volunteer to a proficient member of the community. He learned that his role wasn’t to “change” the island, but to learn from it.
The final, most profound influence was the family patriarch, whom Craig simply called “Father.” The Father was a holder of traditional knowledge and the “high language” of the islands. Their first meeting was iconic: when the government field trip ship was spotted on the horizon, Craig and his brothers paddled a racing canoe out to meet it. A squall swamped the canoe, forcing them to swim through the choppy lagoon to the ship’s ladder. Dripping wet and following family protocol, Craig addressed the elder as “Father” the moment he reached the deck. Despite having only three grades of formal education, the Father was a true intellectual who recognized Craig’s interest in their culture. He became Craig’s mentor and colleague, sharing the esoteric knowledge that would eventually inform the early part of Craig’s anthropology career.
Craig’s time on Piis Emwaar proved the wisdom of the Peace Corps’ mission: to create a cadre of people who are truly culturally sensitive. He gave his time as a teacher and community developer, but the people of Piis gave him an identity. He left the island not just as a Peace Corps volunteer but as a son and a brother, forever shaped by a community that had seen his potential and welcomed him home.
Returned Peace Corps Volunteers Project
This week’s stories on returned Peace Corps volunteers is part of a larger project headed by Su-Mi Lee, a professor of political science, who along with her poli-sci students and members of the local community for years have been collecting biographical stories of returned volunteers who have ties to Hawaiʻi Island. Learn more about Prof. Lee’s Returned Peace Corps Volunteer Project (2023), and see more stories about it.
