Camp Love

I've been out with the crush a few times now and as we get to know each other, I've been talking a lot about camp. Talking about it and attempting to explain it has been a good way to reflect on the importance and just how much it means to me. It's not just my job, it's who I am.


When I boldly and (over)confidently convinced the Board of Directors to promote me to Executive Director, I knew that I was an inexperienced 26 year old being given complete responsibility to run a failing camp. I knew how much work it was going to be, I knew it would be an uphill battle and that I would, repeatedly want to scream, cry and pull my hair out. But I knew the magic that was going on at camp. I've heard the kids, parents and my staff talk about their lives being touched. And I wanted to be part of something meaningful. I wanted my life to mean something.

I went into this challenge believing that if I just loved camp enough, poured enough of my heart and soul, energy, hard work and organizational skills into it, I could save camp and make it successful. I still believe that, although I realize now that change takes time. I think being so personally invested makes being patient difficult, but I know that the level of passion and energy that so many camp people (including myself) feel cannot be ignored by the universe forever. I'm happy to have something I feel so much passion for and that has become such a part of me.


I have been talking about camp these past few days to someone who hasn't seen it, hasn't felt the power. I like him a lot and I want him to like me back just as much. I feel strongly that for him to really know me, he has to understand the significance. Most people have jobs- I have a lifestyle. My life is "camp" and "waiting for camp" and when I'm waiting for camp, I ache for it. I dream about it. I long for it, dream about it. I don't know if that's healthy or normal, but camp is my truest love.