Earthen Vessels: To the TOP!!!

It’s funny how sometimes just a word, a phrase, a song or a scent has the power to prompt an emotional response or elicit a specific memory. The other day driving my car, trying to find a station to listen to, I came across the song Take Me Home, Country Roads. Prior to my experience at camp I probably would not have stopped and begun singing it as I did with a Dolly Parton twang, smiling like a fool. It would have meant nothing to me. But it, along with songs from The Beatles and Cat Stevens, now trigger happy memories for me of camp – of preparing ‘interesting’ meals with kids who’d never used a salad spinner, repairing tents and sleeping bags, and watching dried pine needles spark and crackle in the camp fire.

Every week at tutoring I experience another trigger. At the end of the day, when books and materials have been put away, we sit with chairs side by side facing inwards for Circle Time. After a quick trivia game and sharing our joys and concerns, we hold hands. A couple of us call out “Earthen Vessels!” and then with hands in the air we all respond “To the TOP!” This mantra not only reminds us each day of our goals and where we are heading, but for some of us it also brings back the memory of camp in Vermont – particularly of climbing to the mountain tops. For the kids - and counselors, too – reaching the mountain’s peak was a challenge. Physically, emotionally, and mentally the journey to the top was exhausting for us all. I hope the kids remember how good it felt when after hours of climbing, of thinking they would never make it, of maybe tripping or slipping a few times, no longer caring that their sneakers were dirty or their hair wasn’t ‘fly’, they finally reached the top. I hope they remember how it felt to look down from the sky to the valley below and see just how very far they’d come; how they’d continued striving to keep up despite their fear of heights, despite their trouble breathing, despite whatever weakness. They had determination. They had the support of others. That (and some Gatorade) was enough.

Success is a similar journey and struggle. I’m lucky enough to be witness to this journey for some of our campers throughout the school year. One camper surprised us by announcing that she decided to join the volleyball team in high school after having been introduced to the game at camp. She’s juggling sports and grades very well. Another kid was afraid of swimming but was determined to pass the swim-test by the end of the summer – and he did. This same kid signed up for AP courses even though he was afraid it’d be too challenging and ran for and was elected Student Representative for his freshman class. I know the types of personal challenges our kids faced at camp and was lucky enough to witness how they’ve grown from their experiences.

Sometimes you wonder if you’re getting through to the kids, if they are taking the lessons they learned at camp to heart. Now I know that they do. And when we sit at Circle Time and exclaim, “Earthen Vessels: To the TOP!” I’m reminded of how resilient and brave these kids are. I have no doubt that they’ll reach their peak, their full potential.

Nancy Jimenez, Educational Coordinator

Notes from summer camp

Every day at camp, after breakfast, physical, and spiritual fitness, we would split into groups for workshops. There were two per day. Separated by snack time. Zone bars, carrot sticks, and juice. And a stack of eighteen plastic cups. But I digress. Workshops. Somehow, my experiences in third and fourth grade qualified me to teach volleyball. And so that is what I did. Marc and I, and the occasional Tom/Lucas/ Guillaume, would take five campers down to the field. Volleyball being the main camp sport, we tried to cultivate skills that would allow us to have a “good game” during community game time. With the workshop assignments sorted out for the day, we’d gather our troops. Bug spray, check. Water, check. Raspberry mocha blast hat, check. With three volleyballs in hand, one of which would be getting fished out of the woods ten minutes later, we were ready to go.

We’d start out by practicing basic hits, bumping and setting, and then work on serves. Some people could clear the net easily. For others, it was a big deal when, on their fifth try, standing six feet from the net, the ball finally went over. By the end of the week, we were good enough to get some good rounds of pepper, complete with shrieks of “buuump… set… spiiike!” and the letter game—although I would argue that some illegal hits were used in making it to triple R, or whatever the final record was.

Not every day was AVP quality, as we were occasionally plagued by unidentifiable biting insects, a glaring sun, or the camper who had just not gotten quite enough sleep. Attempts to skip out with a bathroom break were quickly thwarted, and pleads of “Stand up, your team needs you!” were periodically heard. While these episodes were quite frustrating, the good times more than made up for it. For instance:

The tournament at the end of camp, complete with the widest variety of sunglasses styles I have ever seen. Juliette serving five straight points, laughing because she wanted to stop. Rex (and Tom) sending the ball thirty feet into the air, despite their best tries to lightly tap it. Xavier rallying his team even when they were fading. And Kathy, to my surprise, telling me this fall that she had joined the volleyball team at school.

Camp offered many experiences like those with volleyball—each one with its ups and downs. Hiking: the length of the climb, balanced by the serenity at the top. Serious workshops: not an easy experience, but certainly a valuable community opportunity. Services: sometimes a burden, sometimes a prideful act of producing the best tuna casserole ever.

While at camp, it’s difficult to know what type of impact you are having on the kids. But the little comments you’d hear made you realize you were achieving something positive. When we’d do “highs and lows” before bed, the girls would often cite activities as both a high and a low. The things they were doing were new and sometimes difficult, yet they were the best parts of their day.

One evening while doing the dishes, Leah asked me how many years the camp had been running. She was disappointed that she hadn’t come before, and only after being told 27 years was she able to settle for not having attended previously. It’s this desire that reminds me how meaningful our time at camp really was.

Amanda Kolb, Harvard '08