(no subject)
EVERYBODY’S FREE TO WEAR BUGSPRAY
Ladies and Gentlemen of the summer of 2003:
Wear bugspray.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future,
bugspray would be it. The long-term benefits of
bugspray have been proven by campers, whereas the rest
of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own
camping experience. I will dispense this advice,
now...
Respect the power and beauty of your camp. Never mind,
you will not understand the power and beauty of your
camp until you've left it. But trust me, in twenty
years, you'll look back at pictures of your camp and
recall in a way you can't grasp now how tanned you
really were and how much fun you really had. You are
not as sunburned as you think you are.
Don't worry about the weather. Or worry, but know that
worrying is as effective as trying to be allowed out
of your cabin past midnight. The real troubles at camp
are apt to be things that never cross your tired mind
but blindside you at 8 PM on some idle Closing
Campfire.
Do one thing everyday that makes your campers laugh.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with other people's firewood. Don't
put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Shower.
Don't waste your time on scratching. Sometimes it will
stop the itching, sometimes it won't. The summer is
long, and in the end, there are always more
mosquitoes.
Remember warm-fuzzies you receive. Forget the insults.
If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep old letters from your campers. Throw away your
old agendas.
Swim.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what activity you
want to teach. The most interesting counselors I know
didn't know during staff training what they wanted to
teach. At the end of the summer, some of them still
don't know.
Get plenty of sleep. Be kind to your rest hour; you'll
miss it when it's gone.
Maybe you'll canoe, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll
brave the swamp romp, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll
only be a junior counselor; maybe you'll get that
Island Swim bandana on your 22nd birthday. Whatever
you do, don't punish your campers too much, or spoil
them either. The campers you get are all chance. So
are everybody else's.
Enjoy your night off. Use it every way you can. Don't
be afraid of it, or what other people do on it. It's
the greatest relaxation instrument you'll ever have.
Breathe, even if you have nowhere to do it but the
staff lounge.
Read the staff manual, even if you don't follow it.
Do not overuse friendship bracelets and lanyards. It
will only get old.
Get to know your fellow counselors. You never know
when they'll be gone for good. They're your best
friends for the summer, and the people you'll remember
for a long time in the future.
Understand that campers come and go, but a precious
few become counselors. Work hard to reach each one of
them, because the older they get, they more they'll
remember the counselors who touched their lives when
they were young.
Live in Webster once, but leave before you get too
many bug bites. Live in Pioneer once, but leave before
you get heatstroke.
Laugh.
Accept certain inalienable truths: The pay stinks, the
campers whine, and you, too, will leave camp. And when
you do, you'll fantasize that when you were here, the
pay was reasonable, the campers were quiet, and the
counselors respected their Camp Directors.
Respect your Camp Director.
Don't expect anyone to cover your unit. Maybe you'll
have a co-counselor. Maybe you'll have a CIT. But you
never know when one might get sick.
Don't mess too much with the lifeguards, or by the
time you're allowed back in the lake, swim time will
be over.
Be careful what color popsicle you buy, but be patient
with he who supplies it.
Camp is a form of paradise. Being a counselor is a way
of escaping reality for a while, and coming home to a
place where it feels like you never left.
But trust me on the bugspray.
Ladies and Gentlemen of the summer of 2003:
Wear bugspray.
If I could offer you only one tip for the future,
bugspray would be it. The long-term benefits of
bugspray have been proven by campers, whereas the rest
of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own
camping experience. I will dispense this advice,
now...
Respect the power and beauty of your camp. Never mind,
you will not understand the power and beauty of your
camp until you've left it. But trust me, in twenty
years, you'll look back at pictures of your camp and
recall in a way you can't grasp now how tanned you
really were and how much fun you really had. You are
not as sunburned as you think you are.
Don't worry about the weather. Or worry, but know that
worrying is as effective as trying to be allowed out
of your cabin past midnight. The real troubles at camp
are apt to be things that never cross your tired mind
but blindside you at 8 PM on some idle Closing
Campfire.
Do one thing everyday that makes your campers laugh.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with other people's firewood. Don't
put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Shower.
Don't waste your time on scratching. Sometimes it will
stop the itching, sometimes it won't. The summer is
long, and in the end, there are always more
mosquitoes.
Remember warm-fuzzies you receive. Forget the insults.
If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep old letters from your campers. Throw away your
old agendas.
Swim.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what activity you
want to teach. The most interesting counselors I know
didn't know during staff training what they wanted to
teach. At the end of the summer, some of them still
don't know.
Get plenty of sleep. Be kind to your rest hour; you'll
miss it when it's gone.
Maybe you'll canoe, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll
brave the swamp romp, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll
only be a junior counselor; maybe you'll get that
Island Swim bandana on your 22nd birthday. Whatever
you do, don't punish your campers too much, or spoil
them either. The campers you get are all chance. So
are everybody else's.
Enjoy your night off. Use it every way you can. Don't
be afraid of it, or what other people do on it. It's
the greatest relaxation instrument you'll ever have.
Breathe, even if you have nowhere to do it but the
staff lounge.
Read the staff manual, even if you don't follow it.
Do not overuse friendship bracelets and lanyards. It
will only get old.
Get to know your fellow counselors. You never know
when they'll be gone for good. They're your best
friends for the summer, and the people you'll remember
for a long time in the future.
Understand that campers come and go, but a precious
few become counselors. Work hard to reach each one of
them, because the older they get, they more they'll
remember the counselors who touched their lives when
they were young.
Live in Webster once, but leave before you get too
many bug bites. Live in Pioneer once, but leave before
you get heatstroke.
Laugh.
Accept certain inalienable truths: The pay stinks, the
campers whine, and you, too, will leave camp. And when
you do, you'll fantasize that when you were here, the
pay was reasonable, the campers were quiet, and the
counselors respected their Camp Directors.
Respect your Camp Director.
Don't expect anyone to cover your unit. Maybe you'll
have a co-counselor. Maybe you'll have a CIT. But you
never know when one might get sick.
Don't mess too much with the lifeguards, or by the
time you're allowed back in the lake, swim time will
be over.
Be careful what color popsicle you buy, but be patient
with he who supplies it.
Camp is a form of paradise. Being a counselor is a way
of escaping reality for a while, and coming home to a
place where it feels like you never left.
But trust me on the bugspray.