August25
i have this photo that i keep on my desk. well, in reality i have a bunch of photos that i keep on my desk at work – i was also the girl who always had photos hanging in her locker, even though i never really used a locker, but that’s a story for another time.
i didn’t know this photo was being taken, when it was taken. i also don’t know who took the photo as everyone is accounted for, in said photo. i was asleep. we were all sound asleep. its early morning, its grey and fog hangs low, over our faces, diluting the colors – blurring the lines. its the summer of ‘99 – weeks before i chose to miss my high school graduation in order to attend staff week. at the camp on the top of the hill we don’t do much in the way of outdoor activities (in reality we don’t do much in the form of activities at all…) and so a one night camp-out at the camp down the hill from our own – the bigger, more modern, less tree-hugger-more LA camp, is the pinnacle experience for the most elite group, what our campers look forward to all session long. its the last week of camp and while our sleeping bags were driven down the hill we walk down the steep fire trail, our feet slapping the dusty, rocky, decline with each step, singing and laughing. i am surrounded by the people who are the center of my world. i am 18 and a counselor for the oldest campers – i have achieved all i have set out to achieve.
it’s a line of sleeping bags, sleeping bags stuffed with sleeping counselors. a blue one, two black ones, pink, red, green, purple and then again blue. the night before the photo we stay up late, sitting on the raised wooden stage, as our campers play truth or dare we on the far side of the fire. we keep our conversation to a minimum, toasting our marshmallows as we listen to their hushed voices give urgent instructions. we take a collective breath as we watch the action unfold. eventually the fire goes out and they climb into their sleeping bags, we watch to ensure that the edges of their bags don’t touch – we fear jewish babies coming out of one night outside the safe confines of the cabin walls. looking back now i see that we sent mixed messages – you can shove your tongue down multiple throats and we won’t say anything, but there are lines you cannot cross. and as they go from loud and vertical to quiet and horizontal we talk about their futures as if they were our own children – never realizing that our own future is just as uncertain.
i think about that photo and the people that surround me – and while over the years my list of camp friends has gotten shorter and shorter as my disillusionment with the top of the hill became greater and greater – the majority of people in that photo remain part of my life. S – taught me every swear word i know and then married one of my closest friends, J – made me laugh that summer harder and louder than i ever knew was possible and comes up from san diego to make my trips to LA better and bearable, M – our leader, my mentor, went on to marry A and three weeks ago we drank red wine in our backyard. two years after the photo was taken, when i cried realizing that camp wasn’t the sacred space i had been promised, M nodded as if he had known the truth all along.
when i started this job i hand picked photos that i wanted to surround myself with – for inspiration of what camp has the power to be. all of the photos are from my time as a counselor because, well, i don’t have any pictures from the early ’90s and it would be weird if i did…right? i think one of the challenges i face, as a camp director, is recognizing the difference between my time as a camper (which i don’t really remember) and the picture i have in my head (on my desk) of what being at camp meant as a staff member. i want to be realistic of the experience my campers are capable of having. and at the same time, i need to focus on the counselor’s take away as well. at the end of it all for me, its difficult to weigh who’s experience is more important, more influential and more long lasting. i know enough to know that once the bubble bursts – camper – counselor – adult – it has permanent ramifications
Thank you 
there are tears in my eyes….