I'd decided that
this trip, I'd just be camp staff. Being
camp staff means you keep an eye on your kids, have nearly inexhaustible
energy, happily put in long hours, and hold jr. high girls when they're crying
their eyes out because they don't want to go home. It means you become a super hero. You say all the coolest, funniest things, are
the most gung ho about whatever's happening, and have at least one super
power. (Options include singing,
juggling, playing sports, etc.)
I've been doing the
camp staff thing since I was about 16 - my first junior counselor gig. I've staffed weekend youth retreats, inner
city kids camps, VBS, outdoor adventure camps and intense academic camps. In one sense, it's not that hard. You show up, go through training on small
group dynamics and large group games, paint your nails in your team color, and
pack your bags. You cheer cheers, sing
songs, and use tricks to remember however many names you need to. They feed you, they give you a bed, they hand
you a schedule, and you obey. I guess
it's kind of like the army, except I don't think the army usually involves
dance parties and arts and crafts.
Camp is a place I
love to be. It's a place where kids get
away from their difficult or confusing circumstances for a little while. They are challenged in many different ways. I get to be loud and gung ho, which is part
of my natural state anyway. Camp staff
people are usually a wonderfully fun crew who love working with young people. The food usually isn't too bad, and there's
always dessert. I've had some amazing
experiences at camp as a student and as camp staff.
While there are
plenty of easy things about camp, being a good camp staffer can also be
excruciatingly difficult. Sometimes you
have kids who don't want to be there in the first place. Sometimes you have kids who are rebellious,
disrespectful, and uncooperative.
Sometimes you have kids who are just weird or awkward. Whatever your luck in the small group draw,
you have to love them, make sure they have what they need, and do your best to
get to know them and their baggage in an effort to show them Jesus, the
ultimate healer.
Even if you have the
most placid, happy campers in your small group, you still have to think of
meaningful ways to challenge the heck out of them. That's just in small group, which doesn't
happen that often. The rest of the time,
you have to keep track of them, whether they're at meals when they need to be
or flirting with Mr. Popular. Basically,
you're their mother, sister, best friend and youth group leader 24/7.
That sounds like a
challenge, eh? I mean, just being camp staff is kind of a lot in
itself. Well, I decided that's what I'd
be, just camp staff. I wasn't interested in growing myself, in
being challenged in my thoughts about the underdog or race relations or
following Jesus with every inch of me.
I'd be there for the kids, but I wasn't in the mood to be changed. Right.
As if that's a good attitude to go to camp with. I'm happy to report, I failed miserably.
Slowly, as I heard
these kids' stories, my heart was softened.
As we learned about the Stolen Generation and some of the racial tension
that still exists, my heart was broken. The
climax came the last night we were camped at Uluru. After our large community festival and ending
ceremonies, the kids had the opportunity to go to bed or go to a prayer vigil
where they could reflect on what they'd learn and talk to God about it. The small group leader I was working with
split the night into shifts so one of us didn't have to be there the whole
time. I took the second shift and sat
with one of my small group girls.
That's where I
cracked. My proud, self-sufficient, I'm
just fine camp staff girl cracked and gave way to a blubbering mass of crying
human. It was like God set off a love
bomb in my face. Bam. He loves me, and He loves those kids, and I
don't have the right to say I'm done growing.
I don't need to be Princess Sparkling Super Staffer on my own, because
"my own" runs out after a while.
And boy, was it good to just cry for a while and rest knowing that God's
hand was with us.
Love,
Little Miss
Sunshine
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