Underage

I actually got offered the position as a counselor for an arts and crafts camp in Philly about a year ago. I sew clothes, and a neighbor across the street saw the dress I had sewn for my aunt and fell in love, with both the dress and me. So she told me about this camp that she’s a director for.

The dress. Marvel at my awesome abilities.

So here I am, CIT (Counselor in Training seeing as it’s my first year) at this craft camp. I’m doing the handwork portion, as opposed to machine camp. I’m convinced Satan invented sewing machines. I can’t walk near one without it becoming possessed by an evil fabric-snarling demon. The girls I’m teaching are K-6 grade, and as cliché as it sounds, it takes me back to a different time, when I would be one of them.

So, these are the things I had forgotten about when the world seemed so big but my own sphere was so small.

#1: Cliques. I’m lucky enough to go to Raleigh Charter, and lucky enough to feel like I’m part of a family that just so happens to go to school as opposed to a part of a school that just so happens to not be family. I’m one of about 525 students; so being small tends to make people pretty close, ignoring the fact that this can sometimes be by force as opposed to choice. When these girls convene, though, there’s individual groups of about 2-4 people, and if you’re not in, you’re so far out you don’t even have a prayer. There are two private bubbles of just two girls each, and I swear I’ve never seen them move more than 2 feet apart from each other. There’s twins, sisters, cousins, and they come all included. It’s a package deal. Most of them go to the school I’m working at, too, and so they already know each other. Today one girl didn’t show up at camp. Concerned, we called the receptionist at the front desk to see if she’d heard from the girl’s family. The missing camper was younger, and although she enjoyed the camp a ton (who wouldn’t, I’m working there), she felt as if she hadn’t really connected with anyone or made any friends. So she stayed home. It was a really disappointing realization.

#2: Jealousy. This is the best example I can give: So, when the girls go home, me and my fellow counselors who I shall hereafter refer to as The Twins, and I stay after to take the role of “The Knitting Faerie.” Most of the campers are learning to knit for the first time, and unsurprisingly, they detest it and as such refuse to do more than a few stitches per day. So, today when they came in Skylar* saw that Amanda’s* project had been visited by the Knitting Faerie. She was furious. The entire day Skylar continued to pester The Twins and me about the fact that she hadn’t been visited and how that was totally unfair. Like, literally, if I had a penny for every time I heard something about that loathsome mythical creature, I’d probably have one hundred dollars. Which, incidentally, is twice what I’m making this week. Whatevs. Not like I care. Ha. So then, every time Amanda was showing how far she had gotten, Skylar insisted that she was only that far because the Knitting Faerie had unfairly helped her out. At the end of the day I told The Twins God bless our souls if someone didn’t pick up Skylar’s piece to work on that afternoon.

#3: Love hate relationships. So, back to the clique thing. There’s one duo made up of a group with two girls, Adrienne* and Nayla* who are totally inseparable… at least they are when they aren’t hating each other. They’re seriously the kinds of girls who yesterday wore matching shirts with Adrienne in a “Thing One” green tee, and Nayla sporting the “Thing Two.” That day however, they proceeded to get in fights usually ending in one running away, a counselor chasing that one down and holding her as she sobbed into one of our shoulders. Rinse. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Once it was over a marker getting taken away by the other. And then the next minute they’re pretending that making pom-poms out of a plastic device is actually a hospital and they’re working in the nursery giving birth to pom poms. Oh, I miss the imagination of small children.

So, seeing as I’ve made it just a little over halfway through my week (yay for Hump Day), I’ll most likely have more delightful stories by the end of my session. Yay for cliffhangers.  

No, I swear, they love being shoved in lockers by yours truly.

*Names have been changed.