The Summer of Lessons
At first, stepping out into the beautifully scenic yet scarily unfamiliar environment, my thought was, “How am I going to stay here for nine weeks?” I never saw an entire summer at camp through to the end as a child and wasn’t one hundred percent sure that I would stick it out as a counselor either. But, alas, the final days came, and my heart broke over the fact that nine weeks later, it was over. Somewhere I could never imagine staying for so long, turning into somewhere I couldn’t fathom leaving. How is that possible?
Come the end of the second semester of my sophomore year, and honestly, after the entire COVID ruled year, I desperately needed a change of pace. My mental health took a massive hit from how pandemic life had been going, and escaping reality for a couple of months seemed more than appealing. On top of this, I craved normalcy in any capacity, even if it meant existing in an isolated bubble. That’s where working at a sleepaway camp comes in. A summer at camp was pitched to me as a few covid tests and mask-wearing for the first ten days, and then complete normalcy and not a hint of protocols existing for the rest of the summer once everybody on campus was confirmed negative. My acceptance of this job essentially flew out of my mouth. It was decided: I was going away for the summer.
And that’s when the anxiety about trying something completely new and entirely on my own set in. Growing up, I never had unique experiences in a camp environment. I was a homesick child and never formed strong enough bonds at other camps to make me want to stay. The only thing tying me to this particular camp was my sister. I went into the summer prepared for her to be my only friend. While many new counselors who also had never gone to camp ended up coming to work there, I was terrified that the ones who grew up going there would want nothing to do with me. They already had their friends; why would they want to make new ones? So despite everything she said about how incredible this place was and how nice all of the people were, I wasn’t entirely convinced. To be completely honest, half of the things she told me about camp made no sense. I had always wanted to feel her connection, but I didn’t think it was possible.
And then I got out of my car. Someone I hadn’t known before that moment gave me a massive hug before even asking me what my name was. She ended up being one of the closest friends I made at this place. Everyone was so beyond friendly; I was honestly taken aback. These weren’t the mean girls who drove me away from camp when I was ten. Obviously, as any other nineteen-year-old with bad experiences would do, I kept my guard up for the first couple of days. I couldn’t tell if the kindness was fake or genuine, and I wasn’t about to spend my summer repeating the horror show of a camp life that was my past. But, as the summer went on, it became funny how wrong I was. The people I met came to change my life for the better, despite my initial distrust. I grew close to people who remind me more of myself than anyone else I’ve ever met. People I feel closer to now than others that I’ve known for as long as I can remember. They accept every part of me and allow me to be my most genuine and authentic self to a level that my friends have never given me before. I can now say that I’ve made friends at camp that I will be bonded to forever and actively try to stay in touch with. My sister actually ended up being right for once.
The biggest lesson I hope all of you take away from my summer is to just go for it if you’re on the fence about trying something new. It’s so, so typical to be afraid. But what fun and growth could you possibly experience if you coast through life in your comfort zone? You have nothing to lose and everything to gain by putting yourself out there into the world. In June, the person I was is not the person I am now after working at camp this summer, and I am so thankful for that positive change.
Written By Molly Schiff, University of Wisconsin-Madison ‘23