Camp was a part of my life in many different ways. I participated in resident camp with the YMCA; I attended retreats with my church youth group; I even spent a week in Mexicali when I was in middle school in a tent city with other churches building houses. I always ended up in the role of playing with the children of the village. I’m not sure if it had more to do with my ability to work with kids or my inability to hammer in a nail without serious bodily harm.But, the camp experience that impacted me the most early on was during outdoor education. Our school was a K-6 school. Being a sixth grader not only meant you ruled the school….but you got to spend 5 days at Forest Home learning about nature. Our cabin consisted of eight girls from my class, some I hung out with regularly and some I did not, and one girl from the “Special Ed” class. Her name was Pam. Pam looked the same as the rest of us, she spoke the same as the rest of us…but Pam was different from the rest of us.
At first, Pam’s differences stood out and bothered us. On our first night, our counselor Debbie was preparing us for what to expect for the week. She told us that it would get very cold at night but we had our sleeping bags and our own body heat to keep us warm. Pam raised her hand and said she didn’t bring one. Debbie asked, “You didn’t bring a sleeping bag?” Pam said, very serious, “No, I didn’t bring a body heater.” Our cabin erupted in laughter as we realized that Pam thought a body heater was something she should have brought to camp. Pam continued to get teased those first few days for things she said or did. I didn’t necessarily do any of the teasing, but I didn’t stop it either.
On the second night, Debbie told us a story about accepting others and the damage of teasing. She didn’t call us out for how we had been treating Pam, but her point was made. More importantly, I began to watch how Debbie treated Pam. She was patient and caring and found a way to bring out Pam’s sense of humor. As the week went on, our cabin became a family and Debbie was the head of that family. I thought she was the greatest thing since Ding Dongs. It was at that time that I thought, “this is what I want to do…I want to be a camp counselor and be like Debbie.” Because I wanted to be like Debbie (and I wasn’t the only one), it changed the way I interacted with Pam. I became more patient with her questions and treated her with more kindness. By the end of the week, our cabin was a close knit group.
Once we were back in school and away from the magic bubble that camp produces, things became a little more complicated. It was one thing to be friends with Pam at camp: she was part of my cabin. It was another thing to be friends with her at school where the pressures of social hierarchy alter the way you interact with others. At the head of my group of friends was Cheryl. Cheryl was the “Queen Bee” at our school. I had been “fortunate” enough to hold a place in her court along with seven others - three of us had been in the cabin together. After camp, I started seeing things differently. Cheryl could be sarcastic and mean. I missed that good feeling I had at camp.
It was in the first week back that Pam approached our group at the monkey bars. At first I thought Cheryl would tease Pam and run her off, but Cheryl was being nice to Pam. She started asking Pam all sorts of questions. When Pam shared that she liked a boy named Steve, Cheryl told her that the way to make a boy know that you like him is to lift your top up in front of him. Pam looked confused, but Cheryl pressed on, trying to convince Pam that this is what she needed to do. Pam looked around at the group, as if looking for confirmation. When she looked at me, I couldn’t look her in the eyes. To cross Cheryl meant risking being a social outcast. But I knew it wasn’t right.
I thought about what Debbie would think of me if I let this continue. As Pam turned to head toward the boy, I stopped her. “Pam, Cheryl is lying. Don’t do that.” Two other girls stepped forward to confirm that Pam should not listen to Cheryl and we led Pam away from the group as Cheryl glared at us. I spent the rest of that recess with a lump in my stomach for fear of the repercussions of crossing the “Queen Bee.” But I knew what I did was right.
The next day I was “sick” and stayed home from school. The truth is, I didn’t want to face the wrath of Cheryl. My mom came into my room in the afternoon to check on me. She said that she had just received a call from the school principal - there had been an incident the day before with one of the kids from the Special Ed class. The principal explained that all of my friends had been brought into his office and that Pam had told him which girl told her to lift her top up. She also said that I told her not to do it along with two other girls.
My mom got quiet, and then said, “The Principal said I should be very proud to have a daughter like you, and I am.” With that, the lump of stress went away and was replaced with a much better feeling.
After that incident, I didn’t go back to my place in the “high court”. Popularity wasn’t nearly as fulfilling as doing the right thing. Thanks to my camp counselor, I learned to look out for the kid who was being left out and to make sure they were included and respected. Because, at camp, I learned what it was like to have real friends and to be a real friend. This skill was essential to my growth in middle school and as it turns out, it has been an essential skill for life.
~Jami FosterDirector of Standards & Administration
ACA, Southern CA/HI
Camper, Bluff Lake - YMCA of Orange
Counselor & Director, YMCA of Orange County
