Camper to Counselor

This Labor Day weekend, while working one of Camp Tawonga's family camps (this particular one being Keshet, geared toward LGBTQ families), I reunited with Jeremy, one of my counselors from my bunk B-7. Some seven years had passed since we last saw each other. Needless to say a lot had changed since that summer. I was no longer an awkward 14 year-old nervously awaiting what lay ahead of me after middle school, but a better-adjusted 21 year-old, nervously awaiting what lay ahead of me after college.

But when I first saw Jeremy's name on the staff list, memories of that summer came to mind. While the staff sat in the dining hall, participating in a condensed version of Tawonga's in-service staff training, I found myself remembering water balloon fights, shouting our unit cheer at meals, hiking the Ten Lakes trail in Yosemite.

Even though Jeremy probably didn’t remember those water balloon fights in as much vivid detail as I did, I couldn't help but give him some credit for helping to keep Tawonga in my life. As I sat on those couches in the dining hall, listening to the camp director cover logistical items of the weekend, I continued to remember my B-7 experience in summer 2002. As an adult, I was able to look at my camper experience from a wider perspective, beyond endless rounds of the card game Slave during rest hour and awkward, but somehow incredibly crucial dances with the girls from G-7 at the Moadone.

I thought about the general tone my counselors set for the cabin. They helped us outline expectations we could all agree on, empowering us with the ability to shape our own camp experience, rather than treating us like "kids." They said that, if we wanted to be treated as maturely as we did, they would not be the type of counselors herding their kids from activity to activity. After three summers of working at Tawonga, I realized I was using the same approach to working with teenagers as my own counselors had.

But I think my experience from summer 2002 is more meaningful beyond influencing my professional style as a Tawonga counselor. Of my four years as a camper, I think that was my favorite year, largely to the credit of my two phenomenal counselors. After my summer in B-7, I eagerly signed on for my final year as a camper in B-9. Every camper looks forward to becoming a part of Chalutzim (pioneers) and all the self-entitled glory that comes with being the oldest kids at a Jewish sleep-away camp. In true Tawonga spirit, our counselors opted not to dam our collective sense of awesomeness, instead channeling it into a unit cheer shouted during meals. It was to the tune of "The Lion King,” which really says a lot about Tawonga in general.

It was about this time that my relationship with Camp Tawonga and most of my other Jewish extra-curricular endeavors began to change. The Counselor-in-Training program, the next logical step in my Tawonga career, would bring with it my first “job” interview. Camp was now less a given three weeks of my life, filled with ping-pong and failed attempts at the pottery wheel, and more an earned privilege, meant to hone my leadership skills. Mind you there was no shortage of standard Tawonga silliness to be had in the CIT program. But as much as we were near wetting our pants with laughter while rafting down the American river, my fellow CITs and I began giving back to camp.  We constructed a hang out area behind our cabin simply known as "the Grotto" for us as well as future generations of campers (I make sure it's still there every summer). We also worked directly with younger cabins, helping the counselors to best shape the kids' experience. Not long after that, I began my first summer as a counselor.

Needless to say, Tawonga has remained a huge part of my life ever since. It's almost funny to think how I was so resistant against going to camp my very first summer in 2000. Having had a bad experience at a different sleep-away camp that will not be named (let’s just say it involved hours of playing electric pianos in a dark room and leave it at that), I was very hesitant and downright incredulous for my parents to send me away for three weeks. Regardless, I got on the bus and arrived at camp to all the staff singing "We Welcome You to Camp Tawonga." I could never have imagined that college students could be so excited to see buses of Jewish children, all nervously clinging to their pillows. But, three years of staff experience under my belt, it somehow makes sense now.

Yes, my first year at camp had some memorable moments. I had two great counselors, one of whom has worked in the camp kitchen for the past two summers. Several of my bunkmates from that year are now on staff. Eli was one such fellow member of the B-2 cabin. I remember going to Arts and Crafts with Eli and the rest of our bunk for a “mystery” activity our counselors had planned for us. It turned out to be decoupaging. I vividly remember Eli saying completely seriously, “Sick, dude, we’re decoupaging!” With such enthusiasm, Eli was well on his way to being a counselor.

And even though my first summer at Tawonga was somewhat uneven, I stuck with it and came back for three more summers. I’m absolutely terrible when it comes to journaling so my memories as a camper are tiny moments that are somehow all very characteristically Tawonga. I remember my counselor Elijah validating my hesitancy to jump off a rock into the water 20 feet below at Early Intake. I remember many a sweaty song session in the dining hall, jumping up and down in a circle of Tawonga boys and men.

Since I began working at Tawonga the summer after my freshman year of college, Tawonga has become an even more special place for me. Joining a massive staff community, I only knew a few people working that summer. Yet, within days of starting staff training that June, I began to feel the communal bonding that had been bringing my older brother back year after year.

By hiring such strong, dynamic individuals, Tawonga creates the best environment for campers and staff alike. Staff members are always collaborating to put together the best possible programming for campers in new, creative ways. This can range from spontaneous games meant to fill time to elaborately-planned activities that can focus on anything from gender to the art of the perfect barbecue sauce.

I can honestly say that before this summer, I didn't think it would be possible to integrate the popular Saturday Night Live video, "I'm On a Boat," into a productive Tawonga program. This summer proved me wrong. Using paddle boats, blind folds, a scavenger hunt, and a whole lot of Cheerios, we were able to facilitate bonding between two boys cabins and foster a sense of pride for our unit of Chalutzim.

And while Tawongans love to collaborate professionally, some of my fondest camp memories have occurred outside of the work day. There was a long period of time when I was convinced my counselors' lives revolved around me, even when they would leave the cabin for the nightly "staff meetings." While I've come to learn that the staff does not necessarily devote every waking minute to better carry out Tawonga's mission, I can now see that my counselors' free time was both well-deserved and well-spent. Working some 10 hours per day, it's a gift to spend your downtime with some of your friends who also happen to be your colleagues. Whether it's a few of us spending the afternoon at the Tuolumne River or a mass movement of us descending on Don Pedro lake, we simply have a lot of fun together.

This is a big part of what keeps staff, like me and Jeremy, coming back year after year. For me, camp is a home base of sorts, where I can always return. Whether I return next summer or ten summers from now, camp will always be camp.

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