It’s the end of a very busy week. Some parts were stressful, some parts were fun, some parts were horrible, and some parts were truly moving.
The first week of camp went fairly smoothly. The staff is still getting itself adjusted to the schedule and learning about the kids. The kids are still getting to know each other and pushing their boundaries with the staff.
On Wednesday we went swimming and no one drowned! In fact the kids were better behaved at the pool than they have been at the camp. As it turns out I will be resuming my role as lifeguard this summer. The pool that we go to has a policy that camps must bring at least one of their own lifeguards for every 30 kids. We had one lifeguard but our camp has 60 kids. If I hadn’t been a certified lifeguard we probably wouldn’t have been able to swim. They let me slide on the fact that my CPR certification had expired last month on the stipulation that I get re-certified before the next time we swim. The head lifeguard at the pool gave me his number and hooked me up with a recertification class that very night. I’m official now. Good thing I brought my whistle.
Thursday was by far the worst day I’ve had in a long time. It started in the morning when we were doing a craft. We were making bracelets which I realize sounds very easy but the way that we were supposed to make them was actually quite complicated. After splitting the campers into boy’s and girl’s tables, I went around trying to explain the craft to the boys. I was fine with the younger ones but when I got to the end of the table with the older boys I knew I was in over my head. One boy in particular was not listening to me at all. He was making fun of one the developmentally challenged boys and he completely ignored me when I told him to stop. I asked him what his name was and he replied, “Nothing.” (I later found out his name is Deshaun) I was getting pretty pissed off. I told him to get up and go sit on the other side of the room. He wouldn’t get up. At this point I began to realize that I really had no ammunition against this boy. He was only an inch or so shorter than me but probably twice as strong. He comes from a world of violence and had been on both the offensive and defensive end of many fights. All I could do was yell at him. He finally got up and did that kind of slow walk filled with attitude. The older boys have a history of running away so I walked next to him to make sure he got there. I can’t remember when he said but I got so upset that I had to walk away. I walked over to the shift supervisor and as I began to utter the words, “Ms. Julie, I can’t handle this boy” I could feel the tears coming. I said it again and she told me to get out of the room because you can’t let them know that they’ve gotten to you. I went outside and sat for a while shaking and crying with frustration and anger. Ms Julie came outside to talk to me and she told me he had run away. Thinking back on the situation it’s hard to tell what got to me so much. It was just a feeling of complete powerlessness and inadequacy. I soon got myself together and went back inside to complete the craft.
Later in the day we had both the older and the younger groups together playing in the gym. It was far too crowded and balls were flying everywhere. I was standing near the gym door making sure no one was going in and out when a renegade ball flew at me and hit a straight shot to my eye. It hit no other place but my eye. He couldn’t have done it if the boy had tried. After the initial shock I was given an ice pack and was lucky that I didn’t get a black eye. Later in the day I saw him in the hall. He was walking with his friend and I heard him brag to him that this was the counselor that he had hit in the eye.
Around
However on Friday morning I woke up a new woman. I was no longer angry and I had shed my quitting attitude. We parked outside of the office and I went in to give
The best part of the week for me came when my group was in the library. We had just played Heads Up 7 Up and it became clear that the kids did not know each other’s names. So Ms Natalie decided that she was going to change that. She started by taking one child and having them stand up and say their name and what their favorite color is. Then all the other kids had to try to remember and shout it out when asked. By the time we got through half the group the kids were chanting each others names, smiling and laughing. They were so happy to be together and so excited to know one another. That was the first time I was really able to see God in the midst of the whole week. The relationships that were forming and the happiness that was drawn from those relationships was moving. I hadn’t smiled so widely in weeks. It seemed to make everything else ok. It made me care again.
Today I slept in until
The subway is a dichotomy of man’s ingenuity and man’s carelessness. What were once shining and new train cars are now dirty and dank as they pass through graffiti ridden walls into the depths. The trains passing by at such high speeds give the feeling of excitement but it is coupled with the feeling of complete surrender to the will of the car. With one token you have the power to go anywhere but you are helpless subject to anything that goes on inside your section. There is much debate inside me as to whether or not I enjoy the subway.


