I have been attending summer camp since I was five years old. It is the best thing that has ever happened to me. I am, now, 19 years old, and after 13 summers at camp (I missed one), I look back and can honestly say that camp has been one of the greatest gifts my parents could ever have given me.
I am currently on staff at Camp Cherokee in Kings Mountain, S. Car., though the Upper Palmetto YMCA. This upcoming summer will be my fifth summer on staff. After years of trekking around the outdoors, sleeping in un-airconditioned cabins, and sharing showers with 80 girls each week, I would not want to spend my summers anywhere else. Whoever said Disney World is the happiest place on Earth, clearly never attended Camp Cherokee.
I want to thank my parents for camp for sending me off to camp for at least a week every summer. That time, each year, shaped me into who I am today. You have no idea how hard it was when I was little, crying when I missed you, and anticipating letters from you. The excitement that came when you dropped me off and helped me set up my temporary home for the week is immeasurable. Those hugs you gave me right before you left were some of the best.
When I got older, you gave me the opportunity to go be independent with my friends. Thank you for that. You don't know it, but the time I spent in those mountains made me a much stronger woman than a week at home with you could have done. It taught me to be imaginative. It taught me that you can turn an empty room into a dance hall with just some speakers, or a dodge ball arena with six foam balls and tables at each end, or a carnival with a few costumes and props. I learned I could be whatever I wanted. I learned more than you could ever teach me.
The motto for our camp is, "it's more than a camp; it's a feeling." That sounded strange to me when I was younger, but now I understand. You cannot explain camp. You cannot make anyone feel the way you feel about it, and you cannot develop the same type of relationships you share at camp with people who don't go.
Camp is its own type of friendship, family; it is like you share the same blood. You have spent hours upon hours together by the fire, laughing and singing and sitting with them rambling about life -- anything, everything, and nothing all at the same time. You have walked the same land and spent almost every summer night you have with these people laying on your back counting shooting stars and falling asleep on the ground. You have braided each others hair and rubbed aloe vera on each other after you spent a whole day at the waterfront getting fried. You have danced and seen each other in their most raw and pure forms. You have shared joy and trauma.
For a whole summer, your souls connect and you spend days on end getting to know the most intimate details of each other. You are real. No one judges you; character is developed and shaped as the summer passes. I can genuinely say that my camp friends are my family. They are there for me just as I am there for them and after years together, we share a bond that I have never been able to replicate with anyone else.
I grew as an individual. I learned to be responsible for every decision I made. When I was younger, if I did not wear bug spray, I would get bit. If I did not clean up food, animals would come in the cabin and eat it. As I joined staff, I learned if I did not clean the shower house when I was asked to, it would not get cleaned. If I wanted to stay up all night, I could but then I would not be able to function the next day.
When I came to college, I knew how to balance. I knew how to clean and how to balance. I was responsible for washing my clothes between sessions once I joined staff. I also became responsible for up to 10 girls under the age of seven. I was in charge of feeding them, bathing them, making sure they were where they needed to be when they needed to be there. Ten sets of parents had put me, a 15 year old girl, in charge of their most prized possessions. That was terrifying. But I loved it. I love pouring into these girls like I had been poured into as a young girl at camp. I love encouraging these kids to become themselves and be the best version that they can possibly be, just as I was.
I get to be the girl these kids look up to after years of looking up to the people ahead of me, and there could be no greater privilege or honor. I get a week with these kids, no distractions, no technology, and their undivided attention. It is easy to forget how powerful that is and how powerful of an influence I am in those seven days.
Camp gave me my very best friends, the confidence to say I am who I am, and confidence that people will accept me. It taught me responsibility. It taught me character. It taught me to be humble and lead. It taught me to love myself. It taught me to appreciate laughter and marshmallows at 2 a.m. It taught me to embrace the simple things in nature. It taught me that a bonfire can be one of the most intimate and beautiful things in life. It taught me that pure joy is attainable.
People have asked me when I will get a real job. Will I ever grow up? I usually chuckle. Sure, we grow up; some of us get married, or graduate school and move away, and we will all get there -- eventually. But, there is no greater job than instilling self confidence, virtues, and happiness in the lives of our youth. Show me a job that will bring joy every day from 8 a.m. to 11p.m., with the simplicity that camp does, and I will get a real job. Until then, feel free to mail me letters between the months of May and August, Viva la camp! See you soon, Cherokee.
