Sunburns. Mosquito bites. Sweat. Family-style meals. Screen windows. Summer camp.
Some elements of camp are universal, like the loathing we have for swimming in the cold lake water at 8 A.M. and the love we have for our fellow campers and our counselors. As campers, our days are slow and hot as we move from activity to activity, catching up with friends at snack time or water breaks and learning new skills. We rediscover the beauty of rest hour and the sheer bliss of stepping into air-conditioned rooms once we leave the beloved campgrounds for field trips to town. As campers, our days pass in a sort of warm, golden daze.
Once the transition is made to the counselor side, everything changes. We can have our phones, cars, fast food, anything we want. It’s different. Counselor life is different than camper life, and it should be. We got older, but that doesn’t mean we have to move on right away. We’re given the gift to give new boys and girls the chance to make their own memories.
It’s little things, like smelling the pine trees, or looking out over a lake, or going back to the old white barn that smells sweet with hay, that remind one of being a camper, but it’s still not the same. All of a sudden, there are new responsibilities other than getting to the next activity on time and making sure the cabin is ready for inspection. There are countless kids to watch and teach and help to grow. It really is a job -- there are bosses and coworkers. There are so many parents. Most importantly, however, there are new kids with fresh smiles and pure hearts.
There is something so special about seeing the faces of your newest bunkmates or day campers for the first time. Some have been to camp before while others haven’t. You undo bedrolls, make beds, speak to parents, plan activities, teach classes, care for many different kids and their many needs. You realize how it feels when you think of your favorite past counselors, imagine their hopes of making a good first impression on the first day and their commitment to kids they hadn’t even met yet.
Some things never change, like the need to get outside, to feel the warmth of the sun, to drink water, and to get lost. I think that’s the part I always liked best as a camper, and still (perhaps even more so) as a counselor. There are no power outlets on the trees; wifi doesn’t carry through the vines. While outside, there are no Snapchats that need replies, no “favorites” or “likes,” no “read” receipts, no “retweets” -- just air and water and sunlight. It’s pretty much a paradise to play games with the kids, find their strengths and weaknesses, play with dogs, identify trees, build forts, and learn about yourself. Somewhere in between learning to knock an arrow and figuring out the best way to clean your table in the mess hall lie the first lessons on who you are. Somewhere in between teaching your first activity and leading staff meetings lies your character, shining out in all things.
Take advantage of the chance to go back to camp. Share the love of camp life and camp friendships with young boys and girls. Refamiliarize with secret handshakes, bunkstunts, and snail mail. There are too few free summers left, so walk along the lake with someone new, visit the cliffs with a group of kids just to watch the sunset and make a campfire, and forget what it’s like to have a phone. Build troll houses, read stories to little ones, remember the magic of animal crackers. Collect wildflowers and memories and seize the chance to never grow up, if only for one more summer.
