30 ratty T-shirts, 22 pairs of shorts, 4 bottles of bug spray, 2 tubes of deodorant, a set of old sheets, one gigantic duffle bag and I was ready, or so I thought. On June 4 2016, I loaded my dad’s pickup truck and headed east towards Asheville, North Carolina to spend the next 8 weeks working at a summer camp. 8 weeks of no Wi-Fi, no parents, no air-conditioning, no TV, no clean shower, sounds campy right? When I first applied for the opportunity to be a counselor, I never would have guessed how a simple summer job would change my life forever. I was chosen to be the leader for these campers; to teach, laugh, cry, sing, roast marshmallows, inspire, spontaneously dance, stay up for deep late night talks and most importantly love on these kids. …show more content…
Even more so impactful was the community of other counselors I had the privilege of working with every day. Late nights and early mornings were never tough when a smiling face was always around the corner. These people who were once complete strangers to me, I now share a bond with like family. An unspoken bond, one that you can’t just read about, there’s something extraordinary about working as a counselor that I plainly cannot explain in words. The magic may be in the smoke from the campfires or the fumes from the copious amounts of bug spray, where ever this magical experience comes from is subliminal for me. These people became my family; they picked me up when I cried, laughed with me until I could not find the air and carried me totally wrecked and broken to the foot of the cross. As a “camp family” we all faced our own challenges. Each week, a new set of campers came in. With fresh campers came different challenges with even greater memories. From broken campers, sweet campers, depressed campers, funny campers to sad campers- each child came bearing his or her own
The night before we left, Joe talked to us about how it was essential that we continued our walk with Christ. We couldn’t obtain the spiritual “camp high”, and then go back home and fall back into the worldly way of living that we were accustomed to. Many of the kids who go to camp are
After making the difficult decision of moving out from a school I called home and attended since Kindergarten, my freshman year in a new environment made for a rocky start. I fell into the wrong crowd, tried getting out, but kept making bad decisions, which eventually led to a deep depression. My dreams I had as a child were fading before my eyes, and negative thoughts consumed my mind. I started to believe that I had no purpose and could never amount to anything, but the four days at Camp Barnabas in Missouri changed the course of my entire life. This experience was important to me and helped sculpt me into the person I am today.
I never wanted to leave. I truly thought my life was ending on that August day in 2010 as the Peter Pan bus pulled off the dirt bumpy road in New Hampshire on its trek back to the Bloomingdales parking lot in Connecticut. The night before, I stood on the shore of New Found Lake looking out at the horizon on my last night, arm and arm with my sisters, tears streaming down our faces as our beloved director quoted, "You never really leave a place you love; part of it you take with you, leaving a part of yourself behind." Throughout the years, I have taken so much of what I learned those seven summers with me. I can undoubtedly say that Camp Wicosuta is the happiest place on earth; my second and most memorable home. Camp was more than just fun even as I smile recalling every campfire, color-war competition, and bunk bonding activity I participated in. It was an opportunity to learn, be independent, apart of an integral community, and thrive in a new and safe environment. I recognize that camp played an essential role in who I am today.
Before parting ways, our camp director gathers the counselors around to tell us, “Be the person who your campers think you are.” I reflected back on what I just endured through in that past week and how my fellow co-counselors and I made this camp come to life. This was my first year in Camp Kesem, a week-long, overnight camp designed specifically for children affected by their parent’s cancer, and our week of fun just ended. As I continued dedicating myself to this organization for the following three years, I abided to our camp director’s motto and had to acquire all characteristics of the honor code in order to become a better leader.
I visited the Ronald McDonald House on September 15, to meet a family that was staying there because they had a very ill child. I was there to interview Mr. and Mrs. Davis who’s had their five-year-old son, John was at Children’s Mercy Hospital. The Davis family was there because John has leukemia and needed chemotherapy. When I first met John, I was at a loss for words. I saw a five-year-old boy that didn’t have any hair (like me) and was thin like a cable wire. I thought it was great that John got to say with his family on good days. What amazed me so much was his spirit and thrust for life. Because they had faith in their little boy getting better, his parents were very much the same. I asked them what made them so upbeat and positive. They told me that they were getting the best treatment around and being close to him everyday really helped. I didn’t quite understand what they meant and asked them to explain. They told me that staying at the RMH with their son meant everything to the whole family. Instead of being in a hospital bed, or hotel room, the Davis’s kept close and were able to do everything that a family would do. Such things included playing with toys, having meals together, taking walks, enjoying closeness with one’s family, and all in the comfort of a home.
there will be good days and bad days and the counselor must be careful not to allow the emotions of helping others become the main objective in
Although I knew that I truly did need that money for the year until next summer, I felt guilty during the entirety of the fair and several weeks after, as I got to hear all about the week of ASP that I missed -- the new families, the crazy job sites, the memorable stories. Of course, I had a great experience working with my friends and family at the fair. I love the Marshall girls like sisters. We talk like best friends, we love each other like family, and we explore the fair like the crazy “carnies” we truly are. We not only have fun around each other, but the work is so cathartic. I could be cooking waffles or making dough for hours, and the time will fly because the work is so relaxing. Even with the good times at the fair, I couldn’t help but feel like I was selfish in my decision to make money instead of helping the families in Appalachia who really needed the help. As I continued to contemplate about the emotional experience of mission ASP, I realized that the families in Appalachia are not the only people in need. There are so many service opportunities in my own community to get involved with. That year, I helped my youth pastor by chaperoning middle school trips, accepting a leadership role for the younger kids to look up to. I also became active within the service clubs at my school. When the Village Academy Key Club organized a shoe drive for Soles4Souls, I helped head the
It was eye-opening for me to hear what these teenagers are going though in their lives. They have already experienced so much….Being in foster care and being a new parent are some of the adversities different than the average teen that these youth are facing. But aside from living life a bit different than the average teenager, they still have the same social pressures thrown on them that the average teen does. They are just as vulnerable to peer-pressure as anyone else their age; but what set them apart was how heartbreaking it was to hear some of them speak and agree that they did not feel the need to avoid substance abuse because they did not feel their Empathy was shown from the facilitator to the youth, as well as from youth to youth. The youth to youth support was especially important as it allowed the teens to know that they are not alone in their situation and that others like them can relate and offer support.
When I returned to Hidden Hollow forty five weeks later, I had strong prospects of creating an experience for the campers as good, if not better, than my own. I was assigned a cabin consisting of 10-12 year olds, an age that entails frequent homesick children. I spent every chance I had with homesick campers, trying anything to make their week enjoyable. I talked with as many kids as I could. I involved myself in activities; such as basketball, foursquare, and cards. At the end of the first week, I realized my hard work paid off. I was chosen by the head staff to be awarded counselor of the week out of 34 worthy candidates. I had finally accomplished what I set out to do--I lived up to my
At the time, there was no age limit restricting a recently graduated fifth grader from joining the program, so I didn’t even think twice when signing up. I knew that the kids’ ages ranged from thirteen to fifteen, but I was so thrilled to begin the path to a counselor that I didn’t seem to mind; that is until I entered the CIT room on the first day of camp. I felt very out of place surrounded by the twenty other CITs who were much older
Because it was my last year at camp, I was feeling sad and overwhelmed. I also had a lot of emotions about an instance of violent communication with a counselor, which combined into me crying. Greta was extremely helpful by empathizing with me both verbally and nonverbally during a time when I felt vulnerable, confused and emotional. Due to this experience and the impact it had on me, I am excited to see the difference I can make at camp by utilizing the tools of
I’d been hired after a rigorous application process; I was one of 17 kids, from my age group of 45, who had been employed. I lived in a bunk with two other counselors and eight campers. At the beginning of the summer, I requested to have the youngest campers for the summer. Consequently, my campers were nine years old, arguably the most difficult age at camp. The girls required lots of attention: we were essentially their parents for the summer. Nevertheless, I enjoyed being a counselor. Yet, I felt I was a bad counselor because I was never one to be jumping up and down. Although I felt very comfortable with my roles and responsibilities in the bunk, I wasn’t the type of person who would be screaming and cheering at volleyball tournaments or hosting camp talent shows on stage. I spent the first month thinking my quiet, more reserved personality made me a crummy counselor. In my mind, extroverted equaled superior, and I wasn’t either. It took me too long to comprehend that I was only feeling inferior because I’d consented to my own
In the seventh grade, most of my time wasn't spent at school like the average twelve year old and up until now thing have been a bit complicated. Nobody at home or on my treatment teams thought that spending seven weeks away from home would be safe for me, but I continued to persuade. My summers in Senior Camp included many phone calls and meetings with my parents on the back porch of Dan and Jane's lovely home. There was an illusion of wanting to go home and a dislike for camp that was stemmed from somewhere unexplainable. I'm not quite sure what I believe in exactly, but thank what might be fate for having me back here.
From the friendships they can make that will last a lifetime, to the distinct memories they have of campfire traditions, camp is laced with immeasurable meaning. The skills that children learn and practice at camp can become a part of their identity, and may even grow into passions that they will continue to pursue as an adult. Whether they want it or not, the songs with constantly haunt them throughout the years and though they claim to hate it, they secretly enjoy the reminder of summer fun and adventure. One thing camp taught me that I find of value today, is to say “yes!” to adventures and working with my team to accomplish outrageously fun challenges and
My hunt to find a summer job was a no brainer; choose the easiest/most enjoyable option- a camp counselor. As I began my first day of work I knew I was up for a rude awakening. My original perception that camp would be such an easy job was not necessarily correct; I quickly realized this job would not be so "easy". My first day I was assigned 6th grade girls, which my co-counselors laughed at when I announced". Dirty, grimy, and and unbearable humidity. The Scorching sun and the lingering scents of bug spray and sunscreen, a perfect description of my first day. As I began my first day I greeted what I could already tell would be one sassy group of kids. As we began our preliminary introductions they all decided to use