See Ya Next Year

A few days ago, one of the kids asked me if I was going to cry when camp ended. I told her that I would be sad because I would miss the kids and the staff and all the fun, but no, I wouldn't cry. There were several years in the 11 summers that I have spent August and September totally hysterical. You're only together 3 months, but the relationships you build with the staff are so intense. That, combined with exhaustion of having to be so energetic all summer, make for some emotional goodbyes.

Since this became my full time job, it's a little less emotional to say goodbye. I know that in approximately 310 days (but who's counting?), camp will begin again. It will include both new and old faces, and there will be new adventures (and challenges), but it will be essentially the same. So, no, I won't cry, but I am sad to see it end.

Last night, after the last staff had checked out and driven away, my dad and I went out to dinner. We ordered shrimp cocktail, steak and I drank a big margarita. Afterwards, I sat on the couch for several hours- content to do absolutely NOTHING and be responsible for NO ONE!

Camp is clean, organized, packed and mostly ready for the winter. I have 27 lists of things to do in the fall, but for the next week, I am on vacation! Today, I will lay in the sun and tan myself until I look like a football. At some point I will pack my room and my office, clean the house and walk around and touch every building one last time.

Tomorrow I will load 100 pounds of baby bulldog in my car and make the trek back to the city. I am excited to see my boyfriend regularly, hang out with my roommates, get my hair cut, and jump in to planning for summer 2011. Summer is over, bring on the fall!!

BAT!

11:15 knocks on my door always mean something interesting. Last night was no exception.

Counselor B, "We have a bat in our cabin! Don't worry, the girls are calm and I managed to get them to not scream, but WE HAVE A BAT IN OUR CABIN!"

I calmly put on my shoes and headed over to find all 10 twelve year olds with their heads under their covers. I realized about halfway between my house and the cabin that I had come completely empty handed, so I wasn't really sure what my plan was, but how difficult could it be to shoo out a little bat?!

I located the golf ball sized bat quickly and with confidence, climbed onto the top bunk, tee shirt in hand, prepared to grab him and toss him outside gently. But when I reached for him, he opened his tiny little mouth and went from being cute and harmless to something from all of the trendy vampire shows and movies.

I yelped, dove for cover and decided to re-think my plan, however, in doing so, I must have spooked the little guy and he started flying around the room. I attempted to throw the tee shirt on him mid-air, but I missed, and then he started swooping.

At breakfast this morning, several of the counselors told me they heard, "eeeeeeeeeekkkkk" followed by girls giggling, me shouting to Counselor B to "do something". As I cowered in the top bunk, hands over my head, I thought, "this is NOT how I saw this turning out!"

After a few warning swoops and laps around the room, he landed. Regaining my composure, I grabbed a bucket of markers, dumped it onto the floor (I wasn't trying to be dramatic, but probably was), and trapped him. Counselor B came with the dust pan and we managed to get him off the wall, into our bat-trap and then we carried him outside to be released back into the wild.

I will be adding "wildlife specialist" to my resume this morning.

Bannock

Because a few staff had to leave early for school, scheduling was a little creative this week. There is always a mistake here or there, so it wasn't surprising yesterday afternoon when we realized that we had scheduled Counselor E to be in 2 places at once this morning. "Who can we have teach his boys sports?" The answer was me. Me and ten 10 year old boys playing a sport...

I like to lead activities and I enjoy the opportunity to hang out with kids. But I'm not an athlete, I don't know how to play sports and I was totally at a loss of what I was going to do with them. I briefly considered googling the rules of soccer and then I decided I would rather rip all of my hair out than play that, so I came up with the best plan of all. I switched with Counselor N who was supposed to teach them fire building first hour. He taught them sports first and I took over plans for fire building 101. It was a win win since he was dreading that activity.

Instead of just building a fire, I decided we should cook something too. After all, what's the point of a fire without doing something with it? So I decided we would make bannock.

I've heard of bannock many times, but I can't say that I've ever actually made it myself. However, with google, self confidence and the right spirit, no one knew this was a first time thing.

3 cups flour, 2 tablespoons baking powder, a little bit of salt, a little bit of butter and some water. I decided to also have them add cinnamon too. I mixed the dry ingredients first and we divided them into ziplocks and then added water. I found a HUGE frying pan in the camping supply shed and grabbed a big container of Crisco from the kitchen.

Once the kids had mixed the dough in their ziplocks, we cut the corner off and squeezed it onto the frying pan. I'd also brought a big bag of powdered sugar, because I could pretty much eat anything covered in powdered sugar.

The bannock turned out sort of like a pancake, with more of a bread texture. I was SHOCKED that it actually tasted really good (I'd expected something like cardboard). The boys loved it and kept saying, "I'm so glad we signed up for this activity". The dogs loved it because they got to eat all of the scraps and I loved it because it wasn't soccer!

I have been in the office a lot this summer. Between ACA re-certification and Operation Purple paperwork, I feel like the summer has passed me by in a mess of paper and emails. I miss leading activities, doing special things with kids and actually having fun. I'm sad that it is the last week and this is one of the first times I have done anything active. I am going to try to make more of an effort to schedule those times into my day next year. And yes, I am already beginning the countdown to summer 2011.

Lead Staff

Being a Lead Staff means that you don't get scheduled breaks, you don't get a night off, you need to pay attention to every detail, every staff, every camper and do anything that needs to get done, whenever you see it. It also means that you have to be my sounding board for random ideas, take care of my dogs, and any other random thing that could possibly happen at camp.

And yet, for some reason, this position is COVETED. It has become glorified and mythical. I don't really understand, but all everyone can talk about this week is becoming Lead Staff, who will be Lead Staff, what it means to be Lead Staff... I want to pull my hair out and scream.

I don't talk about staffing next summer until February. Anyone who vows they will be back, probably will have something come up at the last minute. Anyone who walks out swearing they will never be back, around October, will change their minds. College students' lives change so much that there is absolutely no point in talking about this right now.

But I can't escape it! Staff keep cornering me, asking to meet to discuss next summer. Everywhere I go I hear rumblings. About half the staff have plans of returning as Lead Staff next year. It's driving me insane!!!!!!

Crying

I had heard rumblings that some of the staff were feeling stressed out. Boy/girl problems, stuff from home, end of the summer burnout... I wasn't exactly sure, so I pulled Counselor A, then Counselor Jo, then Counselor Ju, then Counselor N. Each had the same response to my question of, "how's it going?" "AWFUL".

They all have the same personality of wanting to help, wanting to fix things and of taking on other people's stress. So it wasn't just that they were dealing with personal things, it was much bigger than that.

Several people had ridden the bus home this weekend, and when it returned on Sunday afternoon, the staff all looked rough. Each time I asked how they were doing, the response was verging on tears. After a long, tear-filled conversation with Counselor M, I decided I needed to bring them all together.

I told Assistant PD A that I was going to have an emergency staff meeting during evening chapel and she would be on her own with the kids. She looked a little panicky and I missed S a lot at that moment. But she made a plan and acted confident and did well.

I took the 12 staff I have left and we sat in a circle and talked. 10 weeks ago, they were strangers and when I told them they would be a family by the end, they looked skeptical. It is difficult to adjust to being with people 24/7, but now, 10 weeks later, they don't know how to be alone. They just spent 10 weeks being challenged, pushed to exhaustion, having fun and going though a life hanging experience. Their friends at home won't understand and won't really care about their stories. As they looked at each other, they know that these are the people who know exactly what they are thinking and feeling without words. They share so many inside jokes and memories, there is no comparison to anything else.

As I described what they were feeling, one by one, they burst into tears. They were holding hands, sobbing, clinging to each other. I reminded them that no one was dying and that they would see each other again. That their relationships would change, but it would be okay. I also reminded them that they have a whole week together and that the best thing would be to throw themselves into it and live it up! Don't spend the week dwelling on the end- have as much fun as possible.

As we stood together and said a prayer, literally every single one of them was crying. I know the feeling, I have mourned the loss of summer many years in a row. I hugged a few of them, once again reminding them that it isn't over yet. I am not surprised by their reaction. And I am happy to see they have had such a powerful experience. Camp is a life changing experience. I say it all the time, but then there are moments like that and it is so clear how much of an affect camp has.

Employment Contract

Hunter is a 9 year old camper this week. We were at the beach and he told me he wanted to work for camp. I told him he could come back as a staff in 2020. He asked me if I could guarantee it.

I told him I'd draw up a contract and bring it to him.

And so I did.

EMPLOYMENT CONTRACT

August 13, 2010

Re: Hunter J. M - Employment Status

This contract between Hunter J. M and Camp guarantees employment beginning June 1, 2020.

As per agreement, Mr. M must meet the following conditions to remain eligible:

• Mr. M will continue to do well in school, try his hardest and graduate from high school.
• Mr. M will be kind and helpful to all members of his family.
• Mr. M will be a responsible and productive member of his community (including church, school, neighborhood and anywhere else he spends time).

If the above conditions are met, Mr. M will be hired by Camp.

I agree to the conditions of this contract:

________________________________ _________________

Hunter J. M Date

________________________________ _________________

Executive Director- Camp Date

________________________________ _________________

Witness Date

The contract was on camp letterhead and very official looking. I had him sign 2 copies- one for him (which I put in an official file folder and let him take home) and one for me. His counselor signed it as the witness.

In our dining hall, we have a "staff hall of fame" wall. Program Director S made a giant grid of 2x2 squares. The years we have been at camp, she painted with the tee shirt logo and bright colors and then filled in the staff names. The ones for the next 20 years or so are blank except for the year in the middle. I let Hunter sign his name on the 2020 square.

My ultimate dream would be to be at camp long enough to see kids move from the youngest group of campers, all the way through to staff. It's a long shot that Hunter will continue coming to camp, but how cool would it be if he ends up as a staff and sees his 9 year old signature on the wall? I plan on letting many more kids sign contracts and sign the wall. Eventually one of them will end up as a staff member.

Program Director S

Program Director S (PDS) graduated from college in May and has spent the entire summer, every free moment she gets, applying for jobs. Her degree is in elementary education, and teaching jobs can be difficult to get as there is so much competition. She has literally applied for 10-20 jobs per week, all around the state, different grade levels. The summer is almost over and she has been getting more and more anxious about what she is going to do in the fall.

On Tuesday, she had an interview for a 3rd/4th grade combined classroom in a tiny private school in a very small town. When she got back to camp yesterday, she had just gotten a call from the principal and got the job! She was glowing. She couldn't stop smiling and I was so happy for her. Except that she starts Tuesday. So Friday is her last day.

Her leaving a week early isn't going to hurt programming- A and I can handle it. At this point in the summer, staff know what is going on, activities are planned and the last week will fly by. So it's not professional- I'm sad because she is so fun and I am going to miss her terribly.

PDS is one of the most wonderful people I know. She is kind and fun and a hard worker, one of the calmest people I know and sets the tone of camp in a very peaceful, kind, gentle, yet fun way.

At mid-summer staff reviews, we sat together and reminisced on the last 3 summers. I always try to give staff feedback and areas to grow. But with S, there was nothing to say. Organization? Yep, every building at camp has been personally organized and labeled by her? Programing? Um, she pretty much planned or had a hand in planning everything we do. Initiative? Considering she's 10 steps ahead of me on EVERYTHING, I would say she's pretty much got that mastered too.

Together, we have spent the last 3 years changing every single thing about camp and I could not have made it without her. The journey has been filled with high highs and low lows, but so much hope and progress that it's amazing to look back. It is difficult to say goodbye to someone who has played such a key part in my time at camp.

I am excited for her and happy for her getting a teaching job. She is going to rock that school. But I am very sad to say goodbye.

BF Comes to Camp

My boyfriend has been to camp just about every other weekend this summer. I appreciate all the driving back and forth because it's been a lot! He has put a lot of effort into our relationship this summer.

Early on in our relationship, I told all my friends that I wasn't going to fall for him or get serious with him until the end of the summer, because I wasn't sure if he would make it through. We had been dating 4 months when I left and by the time summer is over, I will have been gone for four more months. That's a big deal in a brand new relationship.

If the situation was reversed and he left me, I'm not so sure how I would have coped. Camp is a weird lifestyle- perfect for a single person who can run off and play for four months, but when you have someone at home, it's a little less carefree to just disappear into the woods.

But the summer has gone well so far. He is incredibly easy going and understanding. He is patient when I don't answer his phone calls or emails or when I have to end calls early to "deal with a situation". He is wonderfully understanding when he comes for visits and groups of screaming 19 year olds pile into my house to tell me a story in the middle of us watching a movie.

I can't say enough how wonderful and patient and amazing he is. I have really wanted him to stay for a few days during the camp week, but I've been trying to ask nicely and not be demanding, even though it is REALLY important to me.

Camp isn't just a location with buildings, and when he comes over the weekend, it just isn't the same. When kids arrive and there are a million things going on all over the place, camp comes alive. I can describe my job, tell him stories every day, he can even look at pictures, but until you hear the ROAR of campers cheering in the dining hall, or have a hilarious conversation with an 8 year old, or see the whirl of kids and staff in activities, you just can't possibly understand.

Camp isn't just my job, it is my life, my love, my passion, and I desperately wanted him to experience it. I am falling in love with this man, but I needed him to see this piece of my heart before I he could really understand me and know that part of my life.

BF came to visit this weekend. I was EXHAUSTED after a busy and draining week. We spent a lot of time relaxing, sitting around, eating, just being. It was a perfect weekend. But the BEST part was that he stayed! Sunday and most of Monday, he was here, right in the action, following me around, seeing camp in all of it's glory, talking with kids; he even sung along with the songs at the campfire (which he had vowed he could NEVER do). It was one of the highs of my summer so far.

I don't think he really understood how much it meant to me, but it literally meant the world. I needed him to experience what I do. I know he doesn't fully understand, and that's okay, he doesn't need to. He is supportive and wonderful (he was before this), but I wanted him to be hot, sweaty, physically drained, laugh in that way that only kids can make you laugh, and be absorbed into this crazy world... even if it was just for 24 hours. And he did. And I am thrilled.

Sweaty

Scene- Dining hall. Campers have been at camp approximately 1 hour. Counselor N walks up to me, leading a VERY unhappy looking 8 year old.

Counselor N- "He bit Thomas."

Me- "Bit?! Like, with his teeth?"

Counselor N-"yep"

Me (turning to the tiny scowling man with his little arms folded across his chest)- "Hey dude, what's the deal? You bit someone?"

Camper J- "I have to share a locker and I HATE sharing and I HATE him and I HATE this camp and I HATE everything and he bumped me and I HATE being touched."

Me- "So you bit him?"

Camper J- "Yeah, because I HATE him and I HATE this camp and I HATE..."

I could see this was going to go on and on. He was looking very unhappy. So in an attempt to distract him and perhaps build some rapport to try to work him through this, I asked him:

"How did he taste?"

(SCOWLING, ANGRY face, arms crossed, grinding his teeth as he grunted) "sweaty"

At that point, Counselor N had to turn his back and burst into laughter.

Me- "Yep, that's why we don't bite people at camp."

Drained

Thursday night, in the midst of phone calls to the sheriff and attempting to file a report with child services, I also spent some extra time with Camper Jack. I talked to Jack SEVERAL times throughout the week. Not listening to his counselor, not doing what he was supposed to do, arguing with other campers, and on Thursday night, throwing sand in another camper's eyes were just a few of the reasons we chatted.

Jack is 13 and didn't want to be at camp. He got tricked into coming and his attitude and lack of enthusiasm reflected that.

One of the times we talked, I told him, "you're a good kid, but you're making some bad decisions." He laughed and said he'd never heard that before. I asked if he was being sarcastic and he said no. The conversation we had made me think he's been told that he's bad in the past.

I am well known for really liking the naughty campers. I enjoy a little sass. I know that their behavior is a form of communication and that it has to do with something going on in their life. Usually they just need to have someone listen to them, be nice, not yell and take some time.

What Jack didn't know (and neither did I until later), was that while he was away at camp, his mom was being deployed for the next year. His family decided to deal with it by not telling him. When I found out that he wasn't going to be able to say goodbye, wasn't going to find out she was gone (for a year), I was just crushed.

Obviously, considering his behavior and attitude, he's got some issues going on. And now his mom is gone for a YEAR, without giving him any warning.

I can't stop thinking about him, wondering if he's okay.

This week has been so emotionally draining, I am so thankful it is over.

Child Services

Every year at training, we talk about what it means to be a mandated reporter (which we are). If a child tells us that they are being hurt, or if we witness evidence of a child being hurt, we are required, by law, to report it. In 11 years of working with kids, I have never been in this situation.

Until yesterday.

One of the campers got picked up a day early by her mom and grandma. She had a meltdown, as is common with tired 8 years olds. Grandma responded by hitting her several times, pushing her to the ground, grabbing her by the face and screaming at her.

I didn't witness any of that. I was at the talent show, listening to a very painful rendition of "Party in the USA" by a 7 year old, when Counselor A came running, looking frantic and whispered the situation to me. S &A were both gone, so I grabbed the closest counselor to me, handed her the list of acts and told her she was in charge.

When I walked out to the front of camp, one of the MFLCs (both of whom are licensed therapists), was calming the mom down and the other one explained the situation to me. Nurse J took the child into the Health Center to examine her and we listened to Counselor A's description again.

The mom assured us that the child never sees the grandma and it never happens and blah blah. When Nurse J came out, she let us know the child had marks on her face. AWFUL.

Eventually we let them go since we legally can't hold them and we made the decision the child wasn't in immediate danger. I spent the next few hours on the phone with the sheriff, talking to the National Military Family Association, calming Counselor A down, and reassuring all the staff that nothing was going on and everything was fine (despite my mid-talent show exit).

This morning, I was on the phone with child protection and filed a report. I hope that it was a one time thing and they go out and visit the family and find nothing. I have a difficult time imagining the alternative. I know families are under a lot of stress when one parent is deployed, and I know that children are abused every day. But this is the first time I have had such a close encounter with it and it makes me sick to my stomach. I'm ready for this week to be over, I'm exhausted.

Getting Tired

With only 1 break a day instead of two, no night off and no co-counselor, the staff are getting to the point of exhaustion. Their tone of voice is much less patient and their faces are showing the stress.

I understand how they feel but I am also annoyed that they can't dig a little deeper and just be nice. Be patient. Stop snapping.

But we're doing okay, we're making it through...

TANK!!!!!!!!!!

Military Day!


As part of the curriculum this week, we are hosting military day. This is an opportunity for kids to learn about the military. It is also supposed to be super fun.


Last year, we had a helicopter land (on the correct day), had an obstacle course, face paint, etc. This year, the soldier assigned to help plan it came out to camp to meet with me and make plans. I work in camping, so I know a LOT of enthusiastic people, but this guy blew everyone out of the water. He was SO excited. He had so many things planned, I was slightly overwhelmed, but very excited!

Last night, we had 10 soldiers come early to stay overnight. I knew that today we would have 20+ soldiers,lots of equipment and many activities, but I didn't even think about the fact that they would be bringing it all with them. My jaw about hit the ground as giant trucks, humvees, and a HUGE truck/flatbed trailer thing (I think there is a military name for it, but I didn't catch it) rolled up to camp.

Today was an AMAZING day. The soldiers were incredibly wonderful. They were awesome with the kids, really friendly, stayed really enthusiastic all day (despite being in long, heavy uniforms in the sun). There was a climbing wall,night vision goggles, face paint, MREs (meal ready to eat), chemical detecting trucks, compasses, a giant wrecker truck, and oh yeah, a TANK!

I got to ride in a tank! Ride.in.a.tank!!!!!!!!!!!! And then pose for my picture in a tank. And play in a tank.

When I offered to drive, I was kidding. I bang my car into things on a regular basis, clearly I'm not qualified to drive a tank. But 5 minutes later, I was wearing the helmet, getting a quick lesson on which button and which pedal did what and off we went.

I got to drive a tank... I. GOT. TO. DRIVE. A. TANK.

Riding in a tank= AMAZING, awesome, incredible.

Driving a tank= EPIC...... no words can describe........

We did a big loop, probably 100 yards total. I was thinking he would let me pull it up a few feet. Nope, I DROVE A TANK!!!!!!! Pedals, steering, the whole thing. The soldier in charge was riding on top, but I was DRIVING a tank!

Not only did I get to do something absolutely amazing, but my mom and aunt had come up for the day and my dad is back from Alaska, so both my parents got to see me drive a tank. Amazing.

BEST DAY EVER!!!!!!!!

Surprises!

A day of surprises!

Last Friday, the helicopter flew over camp, checking out the landing. So this morning, when it flew over again, I assumed it was the same thing. No big deal.

And then it got louder.

And louder...

And as I ran out of the Welcome Center, I could see it hovering over the field, about to land.

110 kids and 25 staff all came running and all were looking at me, asking, "what is going on?!?"

I was frantically throwing my arms in the air saying, "it's not today, it's tomorrow! It can't land!"

But of course it did land, because camp directors have very little power to stop a landing Black hawk helicopter.

I wouldn't have expected the US military to make a mistake and mix up the dates, but apparently it happened at the other two camps this summer as well, so I rolled with it.

The pilots were wonderful and as they talked to the kids, Program Director S and I frantically re-scheduled the whole morning. S was a ROCKSTAR, never hesitating, never even batting an eyelash as she jotted out group rotations, activities, lifeguard schedules and helicopter time.

Kids were excited, but it was a HOT day and they kept asking when they got to go swimming. I kept saying, "there's a HELICOPTER in our field!" But by lunch, every kid and staff had gotten their picture taken in the helicopter, everyone had gone swimming and it was as if we'd had it planned all along.

After lunch, I was ready for regularly scheduled programming and hoping for no more surprises. But when Fed Ex arrived, I was in for another surprise, but this one was SUPER WONDERFUL.

My darling boyfriend had sent me flowers. He wanted to give me some encouragement during a crazy week. My favorite flowers. He is truly wonderful and amazing. And it was the best surprise of the week (even better than a helicopter!).

OPC

Operation Purple Camp provides a week of camp, free of charge to kids whose parents are currently deployed in the military. Run by the National Military Family Association, there are 63 camps across the country that have been selected to be part of the program this summer. This is our second summer with this program.

This week we welcomed 110 campers from this and surrounding states. Our biggest week this summer has been 80 kids, so this is a bit of a stretch for us, but we're doing it.

As a struggling camp, having 110 kids who are fully paid for (actually even a little more money than average campers), is LIFESAVING. It was a HUGE deal when we got accepted last year and a RELIEF when we got chosen again this year.

I am excited because it is a cool week, with lots of special events and many visitors.

It is an exhausting week though, with kids who come from families under more than average stress. Of 110 campers, 78 are on medication. We have kids whose parents are divorcing, kids who have suicidal tendencies, kids who are used to having a great deal of responsibility at home, and kids who are worried about mom or dad away at war. It is a much different group than our typical campers.

But it is an honor to be able to provide a week of fun to kids who so need it. I am excited for the adventures ahead!

Mental Health Breakdown

Day 1 of craziness... and we begin with insanity, like true mental health issues.

As part of the Operation Purple Program, each camp is provided a mental health consultant (MFLC). The idea behind OPC is to provide an opportunity for military kids to connect with other military kids, have fun, make friends, share their experiences, etc. Some of the curriculum is created to get the kids opening up about their feelings, and so the MFLC is on hand to support the kids and the staff if serious issues arise.

Because we have over 100 kids, we are provided 2 MFLCs. The MFLC from last year contacted me in March and the new one contacted me over a month ago. So I was a bit surprised to receive an email yesterday afternoon from a woman asking me when she should arrive.

I was completely completely confused and when I called her, it didn't make it any better. Eventually I got in contact with her supervisor who let me know there had been a mistake and we were registered under two different categories, so we were assigned another MFLC. She apologized for the confusion and asked me if I wanted her to come anyway since she was already paid for.

I was a little annoyed to be dealing with this during the 15 hours of free time I had, so I agreed. This morning she arrived bright and early. I was still in my pajamas, drinking coffee on my couch. I was not excited to see her. Within the first 10 minutes of meeting her, I knew she had just kicked her 17 year old daughter out of her house, she hates gay people, was a devout Christian, has a poodle.... whoa, whoa... WAYYYYY too much for me before my coffee was still in my cup and not circulating in my veins.

By the time camp actually started, several (5 or more, I stopped paying attention) staff had come to me to let me know she was weird, like really weird. Ugh, not what I want to deal with in an already BUSY week.

Right before dinner she came to me and said, "by the way, I'm glucose and lactose free."

"Um, yikes, sorry, but we don't accomodate special diets for staff. This might be tough."

Not to mention that I just found out about you 12 hours ago.

She smiled and told me not to worry, she'd be fine and she'd probably be eating at the local coffee shop a lot.

35 minutes later my head cook came to me, stressed out and let me know that the crazy lady had been to the kitchen to let her know what dietary needs she had and what we would be required to provide.

I don't think so.

You don't get to lie to my face and go behind my back within the first hour you are here.

So I called her supervisor and let her know it wasn't working out.

Hopefully the week will go a little more smoothly from here....

Seriously?!?!...

11pm (Thursday night)- After a long day, I am finally getting in the shower. I can't even remember the last time I showered and I am breathing a sigh of relief when I hear my front door crash open and my name being yelled.

11:03- I turn off the shower and yell back, "Is someone looking for me?"

"Yes, please hurry, we need you in the main lodge."

UGH.

I dry off and put my sweaty clothes back on and hurry out to find Counselor B, slightly frantic. "Counselor Jn... prank... yelling... naked... upset... she needs you."

From what I was able to decipher, something went wrong in the prank Jn's cabin was trying to pull. Before heading to deal with the situation, I went next door to get S. With two cabins involved, this seemed like something I might need some extra assistance. Except that she was in the shower, so I had A come instead. Except that A has a tendency, in her 20 year old, first experience with power way, to get a little excited and react by screaming and being really impatient. I briefly considered waiting for S or making her get out of the shower, but I took my chances and hoped for the best.

I met with the girls in Jn's cabin and sent A to go get the boys they'd pranked. The girls' version went like this- they went to the boys cabin to hide and then jump out and scare them. When the boys discovered them, they started swearing and yelling and then threatened to take off their pants and "give the girls a show".

Jn, in her overly dramatic, way too intense way, made it way worse by screaming at the boys and riling up the girls. By the time I got to them, they were feeling like victims of a hate crime.

Ugh.

I talked with them for about 10 minutes, processing through their feelings and commending them on being mature and handling it well. I sent them to bed and headed upstairs to deal with the boys.

The boys' version was that they had no idea the girls were there and they were just innocently getting ready for bed. They were kind of a rough group who'd had some attitude and other issues through the week, so I was inclined to lean more towards the girls, but since none of the counselors had actually witnessed it, I never really got a clear answer. We talked about being good role models and appropriate behavior and blah blah blah... I just wanted to shower and go to bed.

I was super annoyed at all counselors involved and was doing my best to not take everyone aside and yell... like, really yell, a lot. E and Jo knew the prank was going to happen, knew their boys wouldn't react well, knew it was hysterical Jn's cabin and yet, did NOTHING to stop it. Apparently letting it play out and "seeing what would happen" seemed like the best option. They were quite a ways behind their boys on the way back to the cabin, meaning that they basically left the boys alone to go in and be surprised on their own.

One girl in Jn's cabin didn't participate, so despite 27 reasons not to (I could list them, but I won't), Jn stood outside the cabin, leaving her girls alone to pull this prank without any supervision.

I wanted to shake all of my staff. I was counting to 10 over and over and taking deep breaths, imagining margaritas and trying to get to a "happy place". Eventually I sent them to bed too since there was really nothing I could do without a clear story.

This morning I met with both groups and there was a mutual apology and agreement to put it behind us and blah blah blah, I might need to start carrying a flask in my fanny pack.

I decided that when this story was retold by the 12 year olds involved, swearing, nudity, etc was going to translate far more dramatic than it actually was and I should probably send a letter to the parents, letting them know I'd dealt with it and no one was the victim of indecent exposure.

As I sat down to write this letter (did I mention one of the groups included a board member's kid? Ugh!!!!), I got a call from Business Manager J, who was on her way up to camp from the city. Apparently the main highway leading to camp was literally being closed behind her (in both directions). I sent out a quick email alerting parents, but when 10 "out of the office" replies came back to me, I decided we needed to call them so as to avoid late, crabby parents and a delayed Parent Day.

With Closing Camper Ceremony supposed to have started 3 minutes earlier, I typed a script, showed A how to look up phone numbers, handed a Junior Counselor my cell phone and rushed off to closing. On a positive note, between S, A and two junior counselors, they called all of the parents by the time I was done with the ceremony and I didn't have to deal with it.

I went back to typing my letter, but J arrived and wanted to explain every piece of paperwork she'd brought, while simultaneously proofreading my letter, while telling 8 stories, while touching everything on my desk. The dogs were playing, loudly, in the middle of the office, as these bulldogs do regularly, so J kept getting louder to be heard over the barking and crashing. It was ridiculous and my head was starting to spin. Nurse J, S, A and I listened and followed along with her multiple trains of thought until a ROAR from overhead sent all of us rushing outside.

A giant helicopter was circling camp. It was so close that we could see someone lean out and wave at us. 8 times. That's how many times it buzzed by. Super cool the first time around, but by the end, I was just annoyed at the noise. At that point I was thinking, "is this day for real?!"

Still working on my letter, an email popped up from my brother. My stove and my dishwasher are both currently broken... I'm not sure how that happened, and I'm hoping "service plus" (which I pay an additional fee to my electricity company each month to have free service on my appliances) can fix both without any major cost or the need to replace them. Probably not a big deal, except that the timing was such that I finally threw my hands in the air and thought, "I give up!"

In the end, I finished the letter and, while purposely vague, did a good job of sounding professional, serious and business-y. Several parents came up to me after Parent Day to thank me for calling and helping them avoid the construction. Kids were sad to leave and vowed they'd be back next year, and I managed to avoid raising my voice at any staff. All in all, I'd call it a success.

Fight It or Just Flow With It

We spent yesterday fighting the rain. We rearranged the schedule, attempting to keep as many activities normal as was possible. In between programming, we rushed from building to building, covering our heads and complaining about wet feet. Our rain coats were no match for the downpour and everyone was damp, miserable and going stir crazy from being inside all day.

Activity period 2 was ending and I was listening to several kids complain about being stuck inside while attempting to rearrange period 3. Except that period 3 activities were swimming, archery, sports, fishing and drama. Which meant that approximately 70 of the 80 kids were supposed to be outside and pretty much everyone at camp was going to need to be re-programmed.

I felt a moment of utter desperation, defeat and briefly considered running and hiding. And then I felt something give in. At first I thought maybe the storm had pushed me over the edge and broke my spirit. But then I felt peaceful and realized that I wasn't going to fight anymore because it was a losing battle.

I put a few staff in charge of killing 10 minutes with songs, grabbed S & A and ran to the Welcome Center to make some high speed plans. 7 minutes later, S and I rushed back in to make the announcement, while A headed up to the dining hall to work on part 2.

"Are you bummed about the rain?!?" I asked.

Moans and groans from the crowd (campers AND staff)

I look at S with excitement (I am an amazing actress) and say, "we were too until we realized what the rain means! I've been at camp ans S has been here even longer and this has only happened a few times". I'm practically whispering, kids and staff are captivated, totally unsure of where I'm going with this, literally leaning in to hear what I'm saying.

"It is one of the oldest and most exciting traditions of this camp, but it only happens every few years." I'm totally making this up on the spot as I go...

"The Camp rain dance is one of the best and most privileged opportunities campers have. And when we realized it was rainy enough to do today, well, you can understand why we are so excited..." S looks ready to burst with excitement (she's also awesome at acting) and takes over the directions.

"I've been here a LONG time, but I've never been allowed to lead this, so today is extra special for me. So here's what you are going to do..."

At this point, she tells the kids that we are going out in the rain and to take off their shoes. If they didn't want to get wet, they could stay inside. But everyone else was going to get soaking wet, as wet as possible (otherwise it wouldn't be the correct way of doing it) and go through the ceremony.

77 campers and 18 staff crammed into a tiny room in the main lodge began tearing off shoes and talking wildly. In the 7 minutes of planning S and I had put into this "tradition" when we'd gotten to the part where we take them all outside, we couldn't think of anything, so we agreed we'd just improvise.

And so S ran to the field with a line of campers and staff following her. She threw her hands in the air, jumped, skilled, clapped, leaped, twirled and the whole line of people followed her lead. The rain was gushing, even my shower doesn't pour out that much water pressure. Everyone was instantly soaked, but it was a warm rain and no one seemed to mind. After a few laps around the field, we made a big circle and danced, cheered, bounced around and opened our mouths to drink as much rain as we could.

I talk about the magic of camp all the time. Every day is fun- kids are hilarious, staff creative, there's always something spontaneous and surprising. But there are moments when the power of that magic nearly knocks me over. I looked around at 100 people, kids and staff all blended into one group, every single person wrapped into the moment, soaking wet, arms up as they danced and screamed and bounced and laughed, their faces glowing with joy and the happiness just bursting out of them.

I was sick of planning activities and too tired to come up with anything else so in 7 minutes, concocted a story that, by the end, even the oldest campers were agreeing that they'd heard of the tradition and knew what we were talking about. From that we created an energy that took over in just a few seconds. It enveloped every single one of us and in that moment, we had an experience that was powerful and memorable.

Once everyone was completely drenched, but before anyone could get cold, whinny or struck by the lightening that was beginning, we led everyone inside where A was waiting with hot chocolate. We put on a staff show, complete with comedy improv, skits and stories that lasted until dinner. By the time dinner rolled around, I knew we'd made it. Everything else for the night was organized and planned (and indoors). Another successful day of camp.......

Sick Dog, Rainy Day, Kill Me Now...

In the past, I have claimed that even the worst day of camp is an AMAZING day by comparison to a non-camp day. I've claimed I would do this job even if I won the lottery and never had to work again or if they stopped paying me and I had to volunteer. Yeah, I love camp, but today I am having a difficult time having those same warm feelings. I keep imagining running away and never thinking about the woods again.

Griffin is sick again. He started vomiting on Sunday (always Sundays, never a day when my vet is open for phone calls) but seemed to get better throughout the day. Monday I called the vet first thing in the morning and left a message asking for more antibiotics, and then spent the day waiting as Griffin got worse and worse. By the time the vet called me back at 7pm, I had kicked into puppy crisis mode, using a plastic syringe to force tiny bits of pedia-lyte into his mouth to prevent dehydration, begging him to stay strong. This morning, I woke up at 6 am to him vomiting all over my bed (becoming a more common occurrence than I would like) and I knew we were verging on a trip to the emergency vet.

Did I mention that also upon waking up, besides vomit, there was rain pouring in my window and thunder clapping outside? All I could think was, "this is going to be an interesting day." 80 kids, 20 staff, pouring rain, Program Director S was gone at a job interview, Assistant Program Director A has been having some issues with patience (in that she snaps everyone's head off) so I managed to re-arrange the schedule, encourage everyone, be upbeat, keep A from yelling at anyone and then rush off to the pharmacy in between severe downpours.

I spent the entire day expecting the rain to stop (we never have rain last the WHOLE day), revising the schedule every few hours, creating fun indoor programming for crabby staff and bummed out kids, all while running back to my house every hour to a dog that was not moving except to shiver, not opening his eyes, and who sounded like he was breathing through a sponge. Also, because it was pouring, Olivia hadn't had a ball all day and was screeching, throwing her body against the ground and going on and on as if she were being held hostage.

I knew Griffin was really sick when he refused to eat the tiny bit of cheese I'd wrapped his pill in. He hadn't kept any food down for two days but cheese is his favorite thing. He also refused lunchmeat, so I decided just to take advantage of his weakness, open up his jaw, put the pill in his mouth and put a little liquid in so he would swallow.

By 6pm, he still hadn't moved or eaten, but when I attempted to give him some hamburger and rice, he ate tiny bits out of my hand. So I spent nearly 30 minutes feeding him a pinch at a time. It was still raining and I was physically, emotionally and mentally drained. At dinner, I announced that we would swap the campfire and the dance party, so as I sat feeding my helpless little dog, I tried to mentally pump myself up to go dance with a bunch of wound up children, when all I really wanted to do was cuddle my dog and possibly burst into tears.

The dance was fine but by the end I felt nearly drugged I was so out of it. However, when I returned to the cabin, Griffin was up and walking around and he was starving. He ate two big bowls of burger and rice, drank some water, took his second dose of medication and I breathed a sigh of relief that we'd all made it through a very long, wet, stressful day.

Weekend

My best friend X came to visit camp last Wednesday and stayed until Saturday afternoon. She has come for a week the past two years, so she knows camp well and it was fun to show off the changes and hear her perspective on schedules, staff and other random things that came up.

On Friday, my brother and roommate H came up to camp and along with X, we all hung out, went out on the boat, went to the winery and relaxed. The majority of the staff had gone home or off camp for the weekend, so it was like a vacation without actually leaving.

My boyfriend was out of town this weekend, next weekend I have a staff in-service and so I won't see him for several weeks in a row. I haven't seen my mom for several weeks either. The combination of seeing X and the roomies and not seeing my bf and mom is making me homesick.

Also, my dog Griffin was sick again this weekend, several staff are having conflicts and I'm just exhausted. All of those things are making me want to curl up into a ball and sleep for a week. I don't know if I am ready for the second biggest week of the summer.

All of that said though, when the campers began arriving today, there were SEVERAL repeat campers who I knew by name and who recognized me. Several parents as well. It is so wonderful to finally have these relationships with families. I worked at the same day camp for 6 years and by the time I left, I had watched several kids grow up. I knew their families, siblings and it was so fun to welcome them each year, excited to see them and knowing they were excited to see me. It's taken a few years to build, but this week in particular I have felt that connection very strongly. It has been helping me stay motivated and excited, despite being exhausted!

ACA

The American Camping Association is an organization that many camps belong to. Being certified by the ACA means that a camp follows the safety and organizational standards they have laid out. Camps get re-certified every 3 years. There are 10 different categories (programming, site and food, human resources, operational management, etc), each of which have about 30 individual standards that camps must follow. During re-certification, camps must put together written documentation of policies and then pass a physical inspection where visitors come out and see camp in action.

We are being re-accredited this summer and I have been working on the paperwork since March. 3 years ago, we passed and the paperwork was flawless. Unfortunately it was mostly smoke and mirrors as none of the beautifully written policies were actually put into a handbook or used. Program Director S was here for that and she said, "oh, I remember that day very clearly. Everyone was running around, hanging up rule signs and making camp look like it matched all of the standards." I have no idea why they would go to the trouble of doing that but not actually implement anything, but I've spent 3 years cleaning up the mess, so I know that's the situation.

The visit went well. Standards are weighed differently and the visitors don't know what the point system is, nor can they officially tell you if you passed. So technically I won't know our score until September. However, we got ALL yeses, so I know that we got 100% and passed!

Even more importantly, I know that we didn't make anything up and we are running according to the standards. The visitors were complimentary of camp and I am very proud of the product we are putting out!

Homesickness- Step By Step

We have an epidemic on our hands this week and it is spreading, infecting kid after kid... HOMESICKNESS.

We are in week 6 and so far, we've only had a few cases. None have been serious enough to require a visit to my office or a phone call home. But today, I called 4 parents and have plans to call another first thing tomorrow morning. The kids are from several cabins, different ages, female and male, new campers and returners... there doesn't appear to be a pattern or any way of predicting who is going to get hit next.

I have a very well planned strategy that is nearly almost always successful in dealing with this situation. When I was a camper, I was SUPER homesick- should have been sent home because there was no hope for me- level homesick. So I can totally relate and I have a special place in my heart for these campers.

Step one- calm them down, make them stop crying by asking lots of questions about their activities, what they are excited for, their pets, anything. Olivia and Griffin are also helpful in the distraction phase of the plan.

Step two- set small goals to break their day and week into manageable parts. Almost always, homesick kids are exhausted, so usually their first goal is to go to the health center and sleep for at least and hour. They don't have to focus on anything else except that. They usually agree to do that, regardless of how hysterical or adamant they are about going home.

Step three- while they sleep, I call mom or dad. I explain the situation and let them know that while I don't usually encourage kids to speak with their parents (even happy kids can turn hysterical if they hear a parent's voice), I like to keep them involved. In my experience, a parent's greatest fear is that their kid is miserable in some way and no one is paying attention and that at the end of the week, they will find out their child has been tortured the whole time. So I am very clear with parents that no news is good news but they will hear from me right away if something is wrong.

Step four- coach the parents. Sometimes a nap and being distracted can make homesickness go away. But if it continues and the child is demanding to be sent home, a call to the parents can help. Calls can go one of two ways. If a parent says, "try it out, but if you hate it, I will come and get you" there is little hope for that child. The child will know they have an "out" and they will not even attempt to make it at camp. The other option is if the parent says, "we're proud of you, you can do this, if you make it, you can have a reward at the end of the week, and [most importantly] there's no way we are coming to get you". 99% of the time, the child will be HYSTERICAL on the phone, begging, crying, screaming that they miss their parents, feel like they will die at camp and saying things like, "if you loved me, you would save me" and then, once parents put their foot down, 5 minutes after hanging up the phone, will be totally fine, laughing and having fun. Once they realize they are stuck there, they make the best of the situation.

I tell parents the two options. I assure them that while it is difficult to hear their child so upset, it is the best option. I also let them know that I will continue to call them with updates and if the child doesn't improve, I will let them know.

Step five- after the nap or short activity the camper has made it through in step 2 hasn't worked at distracting them, I usually make a new goal. The goal today was that they had to go to their activities and not cry until noon. At noon, we would meet again and if they needed to, they could call their parents at that time.

Step six- if being active and engaged in activities still hasn't snapped them out of it, it's time to actually call home.

All 4 parents I spoke with today were receptive. They thanked me for my call and appreciated being informed and said that if I called back, they would be prepared to be firm. When I called later, they talked to their HYSTERICAL children following my advice, even though I'm sure it was difficult.

Step seven- success (usually). All four kids, 5 minutes after they sobbed, begged and told their parents they were never going to make it, went off to their activities, bouncing and laughing and as happy as any camper you've ever seen. I actually considered video taping them and emailing their parents so they could see the miraculous recovery. It almost always happens like that and yet, I am always slightly amazed.

Step eight- follow up. I always tell parents that if, after talking on the phone, their child doesn't improve, I will call back and we can figure out the next step, but otherwise, I will call in the morning to let them know everything is fine. No news is always good news.

If they can make it through one bad day of homesickness, they will be fine the rest of the week. They are only at camp until Friday, and it's already almost Tuesday, so hopefully we won't have any more issues with those four, and hopefully the epidemic will stop spreading!

How Old Am I Again?

This weekend my entire staff left camp (the majority of them went to a Christian music festival 3 hours away in Program Director S's hometown). Ordinarily I try not to leave camp, but since they were all gone, I figured it would be fine. I went home to hang out with the BF.

On Friday night, we went out to dinner and then went over to one of his friend's houses. I was EXHAUSTED after a full day of camp and a long drive. I wanted to be in bed at 8:30, not socializing, but I went anyway. We hung out, had a few drinks and chatted.

There were two main topics of conversation of the night- the first was how much they all hate their jobs and wish they could go back to college. They probably earn twice what I do and when they leave for the day, they are done. I envy that part of their lives, but I can't imagine going on, day after day, and not loving what you do. While they lamented how awful working was, I couldn't stop thinking that I would do my job for free and that, while socializing with all of them was fine, I actually wished I was back at camp (my job).

The second topic of conversation was about their weekend adventures. As I was sitting there listening, I couldn't help but wonder about the safety of the van load of 19 year olds I'd sent off earlier in the day. I was thinking about how I hoped the 17 acres of property and 25 buildings I am responsible for were all okay without anyone there to keep watch. I was thinking about the hundreds of tiny humans I am responsible for keeping alive each week.

This is my dream job and I am honored to be responsible for all of the aspects of camp that require my care and attention. But because it is my dream job and the most important part of my life, the pressure to make sure it is safe is immense. I don't have a boss. There is no one else who I can defer to when I'm feeling overwhelmed. I have a board of directors, but their attention comes and goes, depending on what's happening in their own lives. And really, none of them know much about camp, so they aren't usually a source for advice or support.

At 28, I never imagined I would have this much responsibility and listening to BF's friends talk about their lives, I couldn't help but feel incredibly old. While they were texting other friends to come out and party, I was texting my staff, making sure that they weren't out in severe weather. Because while my staff are legal adults, their safety this summer is my responsibility. I worry about them driving, whether they will make the right choices. I was worried about Counselor A who is taking medication for an allergic reaction; Counselor N who is stressed out about her sick Grandma; Counselor J who is deathly afraid of storms... the list goes on and on.

On Saturday, BF and I went to a fundraiser one of my brother's friends hosted at a local bar. I was planning on having a few drinks and then heading home. I'm not sure at what point a few beers turned into 4 shots of tequila (about 3 1/2 too many for a 130 pound girl) and MANY beers, but that's what happened. I don't drink often and getting completely crazy only happens once every few months.

When I woke up Sunday morning, I couldn't walk or even stand. I was dizzy, sick, still wearing the same dress from the night before, and I had vomit in my hair. When I arrived home from BF's house, I was carrying my shoes, hunched over in agony and, as best summed up by my brother, "a hot mess". I felt like a freshman in college who makes terrible choices and needs to grow up and learn to drink socially.

I had warned my staff several times that they had to be on time and READY for the 1pm meeting on Sunday. I reminded them to get some rest over the weekend so they would be ready for the week.

I had to leave my house no later than 10:30 to make it back to camp in time. I had hoped to leave earlier, stop at the bank, get back to camp early and set up for the meeting. Showering, getting dressed and loading 100 pounds of squirming bulldogs into the car required more effort and breaks than I have ever put into anything. I managed to drive away by 10:35, but I felt like I was going to DIE.

A half hour into the drive, I had to pull over to put my head down and will myself not to be sick. An hour into the drive, as I drove past the exit for my mom's house, I realized that I was so dizzy and shaky (lack of food and water) that I wasn't safe to be on the road. I detoured to her house where I collapsed on the couch. I managed to eat a piece of bread and drink some water and then took a 45 minute nap. I knew I wasn't going to make it to camp in time, but I also knew that I wasn't going to make it safely if I didn't stop.

I called S & A and let them know I was sick. "Food poisoning" from the night before. I was on my way, but the drive was going slowly and they would need to do the meeting without me. When I finally arrived at camp (2:30pm), everyone was so nice, felt bad for me, and of course urged me to take it easy. I felt guilty for lying to them, especially since they were SO supportive, but I wasn't about to let them know what I'd done.

I was completely disgusted with myself. I am WAY past making bad choices and letting them get in the way of my responsibilities. Everything ended well. Camp can run without me supervising every minute and every detail and my hangover eventually went away and I went back to healthy, happy camp director.

A weekend of feeling really old and then very young, I'm not sure what "normal" 28 year olds feel like, but it was a strange combination...

Mean Girls

Counselor J is hilarious, has a strong desire to succeed at this job, works hard and is wonderful with the youngest campers. She's a bit awkward, but most camp people are, so that's part of what makes her awesome.

Counselors rotate between age groups and switch co-counselors. It helps prevent burnout, gives them the chance to learn and try new things. But sometimes it leads to hysterical sobbing...

This week Counselor J is with the oldest group of girls. She and her "co" Counselor D have 7 girls, all 14-15 years old. They all go to school together and are "BFF". When they arrived at camp, I made all 7 of them change their clothes. I am usually pretty lenient, but I have underwear bigger than the shorts they were wearing! They all brought their hair product and eye liner. They are the stereotypical pretty, popular, mean girls.

Girls can be awful. And every adult woman, whether you were popular and confident or not at all, has had an experience with mean girls. Everyone has felt judged, not good enough, left out... As a 19 year old, Counselor J is not yet far enough removed from those negative experiences and I was worried for her on Sunday when she called off that list of girls.

She made it until last night at the campfire. But they were laughing at her, making fun of her, and being disrespectful. She came and asked me if I could talk to them about respect and I could see she was really upset. I brought everyone together and we had a good conversation. They didn't necessarily agree that they were doing anything wrong, but it was a good start. I sent them back to their cabin to get sweatshirts and kept both counselors to talk more.

As soon as the girls were out of sight, J burst into tears. She felt like they hated her, felt like a terrible counselor, felt like she didn't know how to work with them. "Those girls are the same type of girls who made my life hell in high school and I can't even look at them. I can't find anything good about them and I feel like I'm back there all over again. I just want to go home."

She was sobbing.

Counselor D and I calmed her down, talked about how 15 year olds judge people on their looks and this is a good chance for them to develop relationships where it isn't based on the superficial and maybe they will go back to school and be kinder. We talked about how there are no bad kids, and that, like we said in training, when kids misbehave, they are doing their job as kids. They are testing their limits, learning right from wrong and doing exactly what kids do. So behavior isn't an obstacle, but an opportunity for us to help them learn and grow. These girls are doing what 15 year old girls do. And so this is our opportunity to help them gain perspective.

She needs to develop a tougher skin, but it's difficult to do. We want to be adored by every kid we work with. But the truth is, sometimes you have to enforce rules or tell kids "no" and they don't like that. I've been told I'm no fun or downright evil more than once.

I gave her the following example to try to help her- I wear a fanny pack and a glittery cell phone holder (a wonderful gift from my bff!). I talk endlessly about safety and good choices. I make people change their clothes into more modest outfits. It's all part of my job. But in real life, I'm 28. I don't wear a fanny pack when I go out. I have short clothing and I don't monitor my friend's safety.

Some counselors love me, some hate me. It's okay either way. Because, while a lot of who I am in my personal life is the same as when I am here, the truth is, none of the staff really know me as a person. They know me as the director who is responsible for everything. So if you hate me, it's okay, because you hate Camp Director, not me as an individual. I'm doing my job to the best of my ability and you don't always have to like it or even agree with it.

We talk a lot in training about "counselor face" and staying focused on kids, regardless of how you are feeling. It's like at Disney World- you never see Mickey Mouse with his head off. That would take away the magic. At camp, yes, you bring yourself into your work as a counselor, but they should never see you without your counselor face. No, you aren't always going to be excited about archery, singing songs and corn dogs for lunch, but the kids don't need to know that.

So when they look at you and roll their eyes and tell you that you are lame- smile, nod, ignore it, repeat your request for them to get in line and know in your heart that regardless of what they think, you are doing your job, you are great and you don't need approval from 15 year olds.

She eventually stopped crying and went back to her group. This morning I checked in with her and things were going much better. I spoke with the girls in the afternoon and they told me that they like her and they are having fun. I'm hoping that's they last of the drama for the week!

New Eyes

The main building at camp is the bane of my existence. The kitchen and dining hall are upstairs and the lower level are the staff bathrooms, camper bathrooms and showers and a big open area that is "general purpose".

When I think of that building, I shudder. I feel apprehension and dread before I enter the building.

My first year of camp, the Director had not hired a cleaning crew in order to save money. Each night, 30-40 kids would go through each bathroom, brushing their teeth, and showering. By the last kids, the floor would be covered in mud, paper towels, clumps of hair, and piles of paper towels. I remember walking into the bathroom, girls refusing to shower because the stalls were so filthy. I would kneel down and scoop piles of mud and yuck out of the shower with my hands in order to make it possible for them to stand in it. I stayed up late, night after night, exhausted, but doing my best to sweep, pick up garbage, get it to a basic level of functioning. Each weekend, once the kids left, my staff and I would spend hours cleaning. It was miserable, and while they were good sports about it, exhausted 19 year olds cleaning for hours is the most awful thing I've ever been part of.

Every time I walked into that building the first year, I felt overwhelmed and crushed by the magnitude of the mess. No matter how much work I put into it, there was nothing I could do. Likewise, the kitchen was filthy, the whole dining hall smelled funny and the bathrooms upstairs were filthy. The whole building was a disaster. I was embarrassed, frustrated and I didn't know what to do.

Last year I had the volunteer work crew cleaning and they did a pretty decent job of keeping it clean. I still felt overwhelmed and frustrated by how much of a mess the building was, but it was slightly better.

This year I hired a woman to clean for 30 hours a week. She is magical. I have not witnessed her cleaning, but somehow she got the dark orange, iron stained showers to be white, gleaming white. And every time I walk into the bathroom, it smells refreshingly clean, like lemons and rain.

This morning, the county inspector came to camp to test the water. I had to walk him around camp to several different locations. When we walked into the lower level of the lodge, he said, "wow! this is such a cool place." I thanked him and then I had a nearly out of body experience.

When I walked in, I felt the same sinking feelings of dread and stress that I have felt for the past three years. But when he said that, all of a sudden it was as if I was looking at it for the first time. I looked at the "shoe zone" which is an area we have designated for kids to leave their shoes so as to avoid the mud created by dirty shoes + wet floors. We have big, brightly colored shoe outlines decorating the wall and cubbies to store their shoes. Off to the left of that is the "chill zone". Rows of book shelves filled with fun kids books and games, surrounded by bright pictures and signs. The area is marked off by a bright outline with colorful footprints, has a nice carpet for kids to sit on, bright bean bag chairs and big pillows and Christmas lights decorating the ceiling.

The lockers are decorated by bright signs with camper names, and everywhere you look is well swept, organized, neat and looks like an inviting place for kids to hang out. It took us three years, but it's a whole new place. As I looked around, I thought, "whoa! He's right, this place is awesome! Why do I still feel stressed out?" I think I have post traumatic stress disorder from my first summer at camp.

When we walked upstairs to the dining hall, the light way pouring through the skylights in such a way that the whole room was glowing. The big colorful prayer signs were bright and made the whole room colorful. It smelled like cookies and it was spotless and clean. My cook this year is also magical and the kitchen is the most spotless, organized place I have ever seen.

As we walked through the building, I was in awe and it was like the first time I'd ever been there. This camp is becoming the camp I have dreamed about and believed it could be. I feel very proud and very hopeful for the future to come.

Real Job

When I started working at camp 11 years ago it was mostly because I would be able to work on my tan, but also because kids are cute and hanging out with a bunch of them seemed like an easy job. Singing songs, playing games, swimming... none of that seemed like a "real job" and thus, it was the perfect summer plan.

What they don't tell you is that managing a group of children requires an immense amount of organizational skills, the ability to multi-task, pay close attention to detail, maintain professionalism at all times (despite utter exhaustion), think on your feet, be flexible... the list could go on for pages and pages. Yes, there are lots of silly songs and fun games, but working at camp is the best place to learn real life skills that are applicable to any job that you go on to have.

As we begin our 4th week of campers (5th week being at camp), staff are realizing that this isn't just a summer of fun in the sun, but rather the ultimate lesson in professionalism.

If, for instance, you are an 18 year old junior counselor and you tell the 50 year old Health Director what's on your mind, complete with the "talk to the hand" and hair flip/walk away move, you will get a 10pm sit down with the Director for a discussion on communication and also a lesson on hierarchy.

If, for instance, you turn in your weekly paperwork and it is not done correctly, the Program Director will hand it back and expect it to be re-done... it doesn't matter that it's break time.

If, for instance, you request to lead a different activity than what is scheduled, because you "don't wanna do that activity" you will learn that, "thank you for sharing your feelings on this subject but you have to do what is scheduled" is code for, "suck it up and do what I say because I was working on schedules until 11pm last night and I don't care what activities you like- you aren't a camper."

There are times when I want to shake my staff, but mostly, I hope that this summer helps them grow professionally and prepare for a future career. And so this week is mid summer staff reviews. At the end of last week I handed out forms they had to fill out. I filled out the same forms and throughout the week, I will meet with each staff member and go over what we've both written. It is a great opportunity to check in, affirm their strengths and give them direction on what to improve. It is also good because it gives them a list of "real world" skills that they can use on a resume to explain their experience at camp. Also, this is the first time many of them have been through a review so it is good experience.

Despite my repeatedly telling them it would be painless and a good experience, the buzz around camp is that some people are desperately nervous. The second meeting I had today began with Counselor B bursting into tears, telling me she had been on the phone with her mom earlier in the week, crying because she was so nervous for this review. She is a very strong counselor and had a great review, but she'd had some previous bad boss experiences and is thus absolutely terrified of me. My hope for her this summer is that her confidence will grow and she will stop cowering whenever I walk by.