My earliest memory is The tamarack camps experience. In my whole life, I have only ever felt alone. It’s rare for most people to be cut off from the rest of the world. There was a 24-hour time of seclusion set out (Sheskin et al., 2022). There’s no central air conditioning, no phone, no TV, and no running water. The family and I frequently joke about being stranded on a desert island with no food or water and no one to talk to. It was a great opportunity to spend a full day alone in the forest as part of my summer camp experience six years ago.
Tamarack Camps invited me to Agree with Outpost Camp for a four-week wilderness getaway. Thirty-seven campers and thirteen staff members piled into an old green school bus heading for the Canadian border. The memories of Tamarack Camps live on in the community (Tarpinian, 2020). At a different age and stage of development, each child embarks on their road toward self-esteem and confidence. Since 1902, there has been committed to ensuring that every kid has a positive Jewish camp experience (Schweinbenz, 2020). I had no one to lean on for support as I embarked on a life-altering trip. I gave up my comfy bed, social network, and contemporary technology in exchange for a tent in the woods with no electricity, running water, or a clock to tell the time.
Camp Sea-Gull has always been one of my favourite times of the year. The lakeside getaway in northern Michigan is roughly a four-hour trip from my house in northern Wisconsin. Despite being a summer camp, it has running water, electricity, and the friendships I have made over the last seven years. Saying farewell to my camp buddies and the location I had previously called home.
My folks provided me with a fantastic summer. If I returned home on a Saturday, repacked for Agree, and left the following day, I could remain at the Sea-Gull for four weeks. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that had to be taken. I justified my actions by claiming that I’d had two wonderful summers in a row. Is there anything more tempting than that? In September, signing up for the following summer looked fantastic, but I was shaking my head in astonishment by June. Is it worth leaving your closest friends and a beautiful camp in a beautiful setting? I felt a surge of emotions as I said my goodbyes to my campmates. As the “Welcome to Camp Sea-Gull” sign shrank in the rearview mirror, I recall peering out the back window in astonishment. G-8, the cabin where I had spent the previous month, was no longer in my life. For the first time, visitors would not be able to utilize my cabin since I was not present. Girls were already fussing over my bunk and the shelves I had set up before leaving. I was devastated.
I spent much of the four-hour drive home from Charlevoix musing over the previous four weeks. As I read the letters my friends had left me on the bus, I was filled with emotion and couldn’t stop sobbing. I spent most of my time travelling from camp to camp, persuading myself that disconnecting from the girls I had grown up with was the right option. I started to feel excitement and anxiety for the remainder of my summer as we got closer to my house and away from Sea-Gull. After returning from camp the night before, I had to wash and repack all of my clothes. That evening, we needed to make a short trip to the grocery shop for some last-minute groceries. My mother reminds me of taking mosquito netting, Deet insect repellent, Camp Suds (a biodegradable shampoo), and a headlight on my list of essentials. You couldn’t have a straightener, a blow dryer, or an MP3 player with you. It was plain to see. As a result, we had to leave our hiking boots, flashlight, and a raincoat at home because we arrived late. After making sure everything for the bus was so summer, I finally got to sleep in my bed. The use of a sleeping pad beneath my bag throughout the summer ended that night. That night, I had problems sleeping. Despite everyone else’s comfort, I was nervous about travelling the bus to a new camp for the first time. I was apprehensive about being accepted and how the summer would turn out.
I thought about my decision to relocate to Tamarack and its reasons as I sat in the parking lot the next morning, watching the new kids and their parents arrive. This would be my final year at Tamarack, and I was worried. Is this my new home, or am I returning to Sea-gull? As I watched my fellow campers load their automobiles and make their way to the green school bus, my mind was racing with ideas. I stood behind my father’s seat, watching him put his bulging duffel bags onto a trailer attached to the back of the next bus. I also witnessed moms bidding their children farewell as they boarded school buses. Then I observed a pattern among the campers: they all hugged each other. Each of them had been to camp before and was familiar with the others. There was no one to hurry up to and hug, though. Finally, my parents and I made our way to the front of the first bus, abandoning the safety of their car. My fists were clenched around my pillow, and I averted my sight.
It was unsettling to see myself sitting in worn-out seats on an old green school bus for fourteen hours, unsure of my place in the world and how it related to my upbringing in a refugee camp. Before this summer, the longest canoe trip I’d ever had was a five-hour trip down the Jordan River. I was about to go on a five-day journey to put my abilities to the ultimate test. It was the first time I’d ever gone on a trip. My one-day kayaking experience scared me that it wouldn’t be adequate for our five-day, four-night expedition.
When I arrived at the Jordan River, I realized that whatever I learned had to be sufficient. They spend their whole Solo in nature for the entire twenty-four hours. Erma, the camp’s sauna, was built this year by camp staff. During the next twenty-four hours, incredible things transpired! I’m pretty sure I went over them all. “It started with concern, then delight, excitement, bravery, and pleasure,” said the guy who spent his first night alone. “Since this summer, when I made new friends who I knew would be with me for the rest of my life,” Kaitlyn adds, “my passion for the outdoors has only grown stronger.” This level of tranquillity and pleasure could not have been found in any other portion of my body. I enjoyed the tranquillity. In my skin, I felt at ease.
I thought about how, at home, I rarely attempted to engage with others. Normally, I would strive to keep myself out of awkward situations. This event and these memories have the potential to assist me in becoming the person I desire. After completing my Solo, I realized the importance of friendship. We realized how much we had missed each other when we returned to camp. I spent the next four summers at Tamarack Camps, where I was allowed to develop as a person.
Reference
Schweinbenz, A. N. (2020). Annual School of Human Kinetics Undergraduate Conference Proceedings (2017).
Sheskin, I. M., Dashefsky, A., & Markowitz, S. (2022). Jewish Overnight Camps. In American Jewish Year Book 2020 (pp. 475-490). Springer, Cham.
Tarpinian, K. (2020). The Development of an Outdoor Youth Camp Within a University’s Outdoor Program (Doctoral dissertation, California State University, Northridge).