My adolescent summers were spent with strangers, who quickly became friends, mid-summer's nights spent around a campfire, telling stories, roasting marshmallows and star gazing. My childhood summers involved hiking, rock climbing, arts and crafts and fishing. I can remember playing games, swimming canoeing and practicing yoga. These are the summers I reminisce the most. These are the summers spent at camp.

Yes, I’m black yes, I went to summer camp and yes, my sister and I were about the only two minority campers.

At the age of 11, my mother sent my siblings and me to camp. There were many sections so my sister and I would usually attend the earlier section which was primarily girls. Of course, at first thought of this I was aghast. How could my mother want to ship me away? I thought, at this point I have never been away from my mom or my brother. How am I to survive 12 days without her? She went on to explain herself, clarifying that she simply wants us to be productive and have a fun summer. She went on to show me a catalog advertising the camp but that wasn’t enough. I had a whole summer planned which consisted of pulling all nighters, campouts in the living room and movie marathons. Looking back at it now, I can understand why she wanted us to experience something new. My plans were not very constructive. But isn’t that what summer is all about? Being lazy and sleeping in? All I knew was that my plans were being interrupted and I was being sent away.

The day my sister and I were leaving I did not feel any better. In fact, I was feeling worse. My stomach was in knots, turning and my palms were sticky and sweating. I suddenly felt the urge to use the restroom. There were so many parents dropping off their children. Most of the kids were excited. Their faces all bright and filled with anticipation. My sister and I said our goodbyes and off we went onto the bus as our mom made her way to the car. We found a seat fairly close to the front and sat down quietly. At this point all I wanted to do was leave. I knew the sooner we leave the better I would feel because I would have to get over it at some point. After waiting for what felt like another twenty minutes I decided to follow my younger sister’s example and put my earbuds in. I took out my iPod and started listening to music. After another ten minutes of staring out the window, I watched parents, grandparents and guardians wave to their loved ones as the bus slowly pulled away.

Moving through a sea of kids to drag my belongings from under the bus only irritated me. At this point I was already fighting a headache and the jungle of screaming, overly excited campers were not helping me one bit.

I felt like an outcast, as though I’ve been sent into exile. I did not belong. In every shape and form this was not the place for me…

But, of course you already know where the story’s going. Yes, I was all wrong. Within a few days I made friends and adjusted quickly.

I learned many new things and gained many new interests in hiking, fishing, outdoor camping, canoeing and much more.

Today, when I tell my friends about my experiences in summer camp; they are a bit surprised. But all I say is, “yes, I’m black. Yes, I went to summer camp.”