Here at camp we have a really problematic disease. It's called HS. Or, Home Sick! As one of the reining homesick experts I've learned several things.
1) Never ask a child if they will die if they can't go home right now.
2) A child left alone will find a way to call home no matter how difficult you think it is.
3) Dinner time is the worst time of the day for a homesick kid.
4) Chocolate and a hug can cure a lot.
5) But not everything.
6) There is a reason they call Benidryll "Mommy's Little Helper..."
My protocol says I can treat watery eyes and a runny nose with an antihistamine. It is amazing how well it works.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Monday, June 19, 2006
Consideration
Hi, my name is Sandy and I will be your camp medic for the week. That means I will not sleep, eat or bathe all week so that I can be at your beck and call for every sniffle, sneeze and tummy ache that you would not normally even mention to anyone in a five mile radius of your normal life, except that at camp it has become a huge emergency in your mind. No, of course I don't miss the dinner that you won't let me finish or the sleep that you won't let me have. I just want you to be happy, fulfilled and feeling pampered. After all this is BOY SCOUT CAMP!!! Where we train individuals to be self reliant, respectful and useful members of society. Thank-You so much for allowing me to serve you. No, there is nothing wrong with my eyes, they are always bloodshot and that tick/twitch has been there for years.
As funny as that little speech is, it is becoming incredibly tragic. I imagine the time I have stolen to write it is going to cost me dearly at some point in the near future. I still love this job, but some of these people really should be well, shot. Unfortunately I can't use my needles for that.
Still no psychological emergency yet. I'm starting to live in fear....
As funny as that little speech is, it is becoming incredibly tragic. I imagine the time I have stolen to write it is going to cost me dearly at some point in the near future. I still love this job, but some of these people really should be well, shot. Unfortunately I can't use my needles for that.
Still no psychological emergency yet. I'm starting to live in fear....
Friday, June 16, 2006
Slow week, week two memories and soup
This has been a slow week, as was last week frankly. There were the standard whiny children, over concerned/overbearing scout masters, scrapes, cuts, bloody noses, but over all it was slow. I imagine I'm gonna pay for it in the eventual. Better sleep up now.
In the meantime, all this time on my hands has given me an opportunity for reflection. For the past three years I have always had a physiological emergency on week 2 (the week I'm in right now). It hasn't happened this week (so far, but we are in the home stretch). Makes me wonder. Course I've never been superstitious, so, who really cares right?
Three summers ago a staff member (who was manic depressive) had a meltdown in the staff lodge while a camper was having a seizure and massively altered mental status. The following Thursday a huge troop got lost on the mountain during staff night off and the formerly mentally unstable staff member was allowed to help search (no I don't know what they were thinking, no one asked me...) and managed to "sprain" both ankles on the way down. I managed to fall out of the golf cart, and another staffer was also cut up, but the two of us, bleeding everywhere, tended to this young man's wounds. Then it was decided he should stay in medlodge with me over night. The idea of him in the same building with me and having access to sharps was hair-raising to say the least.
Two summers ago, a deaf troop was here (they come every year this time, actually) and one of the boys suffered what looked like to me anyway like a psychotic break. He bit, scratched spit and screamed his way up to my medlodge, carried by his father and scout master. Unfortunately an idiot was there ahead of me (see earlier post about volunteer EMT-B from Miami Suburb) and his solution was to duct tape this 11 year old child into a stretcher. Dear God in Heaven. Yes, it went down hill from there. When the paramedics showed up, they cut him out, and he decked the paramedic so they had to tie him back up.
Last summer a staffer with Ashbergers (a mild autism) got off his meds and had a little episode where we were chasing him through the woods during a staff meeting with our council executive who made the mistake of asking what the staff thought about the massive overbooking that occurred that week. Much to his surprise we answered him directly, specifically and accurately. Don't ask a question if you don't want to hear the answer. Anyway, these two massive shake downs were happening simultaneously. When I called mom and said, "come get your son, now!" she said, "But it's a two hour drive and it's eleven o'clock" so I answered, "then I guess you better start driving before it gets any later..."
We have other psychological emergencies, a staffer overdosed on Xanex, a camper threatened to light himself on fire with a bug coil and lighter fluid (that one was not nearly as bad as it sounds and actually more an issue with a stupid and insensitive scout master...) and several campers and staffers found out a loved one died. But these were not during week two.
This week on staff night off I cooked my orange soup. The name has nothing to do with the flavor, it's the color. Here's the recipe, it's the bomb!
1 Vidalia Onion chopped and sauted in
1 stick of butter then add
16 oz ginger ale then add
1 can coconut cream and
1 large box good vegetable stock stir in
1 bag carrot slices and
1 bag sweet potato fries cut into bit sized pieces and let simmer then add
2 large boxes butternut squash soup and
1 large box fire roasted carrot soup.
Simmer another 45 minutes.
Serve with sour cream and fresh bacon pieces.
(Actually I cook two rashers chopped up and add a handful to each soup bowl, but to each his own)
(Also a good sprinkling of chili powder gives the soup a nice kick)
Three weeks down, five to go!
In the meantime, all this time on my hands has given me an opportunity for reflection. For the past three years I have always had a physiological emergency on week 2 (the week I'm in right now). It hasn't happened this week (so far, but we are in the home stretch). Makes me wonder. Course I've never been superstitious, so, who really cares right?
Three summers ago a staff member (who was manic depressive) had a meltdown in the staff lodge while a camper was having a seizure and massively altered mental status. The following Thursday a huge troop got lost on the mountain during staff night off and the formerly mentally unstable staff member was allowed to help search (no I don't know what they were thinking, no one asked me...) and managed to "sprain" both ankles on the way down. I managed to fall out of the golf cart, and another staffer was also cut up, but the two of us, bleeding everywhere, tended to this young man's wounds. Then it was decided he should stay in medlodge with me over night. The idea of him in the same building with me and having access to sharps was hair-raising to say the least.
Two summers ago, a deaf troop was here (they come every year this time, actually) and one of the boys suffered what looked like to me anyway like a psychotic break. He bit, scratched spit and screamed his way up to my medlodge, carried by his father and scout master. Unfortunately an idiot was there ahead of me (see earlier post about volunteer EMT-B from Miami Suburb) and his solution was to duct tape this 11 year old child into a stretcher. Dear God in Heaven. Yes, it went down hill from there. When the paramedics showed up, they cut him out, and he decked the paramedic so they had to tie him back up.
Last summer a staffer with Ashbergers (a mild autism) got off his meds and had a little episode where we were chasing him through the woods during a staff meeting with our council executive who made the mistake of asking what the staff thought about the massive overbooking that occurred that week. Much to his surprise we answered him directly, specifically and accurately. Don't ask a question if you don't want to hear the answer. Anyway, these two massive shake downs were happening simultaneously. When I called mom and said, "come get your son, now!" she said, "But it's a two hour drive and it's eleven o'clock" so I answered, "then I guess you better start driving before it gets any later..."
We have other psychological emergencies, a staffer overdosed on Xanex, a camper threatened to light himself on fire with a bug coil and lighter fluid (that one was not nearly as bad as it sounds and actually more an issue with a stupid and insensitive scout master...) and several campers and staffers found out a loved one died. But these were not during week two.
This week on staff night off I cooked my orange soup. The name has nothing to do with the flavor, it's the color. Here's the recipe, it's the bomb!
1 Vidalia Onion chopped and sauted in
1 stick of butter then add
16 oz ginger ale then add
1 can coconut cream and
1 large box good vegetable stock stir in
1 bag carrot slices and
1 bag sweet potato fries cut into bit sized pieces and let simmer then add
2 large boxes butternut squash soup and
1 large box fire roasted carrot soup.
Simmer another 45 minutes.
Serve with sour cream and fresh bacon pieces.
(Actually I cook two rashers chopped up and add a handful to each soup bowl, but to each his own)
(Also a good sprinkling of chili powder gives the soup a nice kick)
Three weeks down, five to go!
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Ouch!
These boys amaze me. Every day I see injuries that would drop grown men to their knees, and these boys are so brave. Granted other times I see tears over a minor scrape or bug-bite, (I won't mention the child that screamed bloody murder in my clinic for three solid hours about a small bruise on his foot) but I try not to dwell on those moments.
Often these boys are so stalwart and strong. Last week a boy had a migraine so bad we had to take him to the hospital. He couldn't even walk. I called for several of the adults in camp to help me carry him out. Five 15 year old boys stepped forward and said, "He is a member of our troop, tell us how, and we will carry him." It was all I could do not to cry as they carried the boy nearly a quarter of a mile to the closest vehicle. Several of those boys are now on staff this week. We are proud to have them.
Yesterday a young man broke his clavicle. This can be a very painful injury. He comforted his mother on the phone as she was scared. He was released from the hospital this morning and is very disappointed that he cannot come back to camp and complete his merit badges.
Some boys break bones and yet they stay, as much as 20 stitches and they stay, smiling, participating proud to be scouts.
Last night a mother came to me in tears because her son had a serious case of HS (Home Sick) and she wanted to take him home. I was trying to talk her down when a 17 year old staff member (Gusty, I mentioned him before) stepped in, and explained to the mom how this was an important thing for her son to go through and that he was safe here. His words (identical to the ones I often use in these cases) reached the part of her heart that I could not. Then he walked her out to her car and got her on her way. Then he walked up to the campsite of the young man and talked him though a rough night. That little boy is smiling today because of Gusty's honor.
Sometimes as a teacher I get frustrated, depressed even from the excuses, name-calling and blame passing I see with students, parents and even administrations. Then I come here.
Often these boys are so stalwart and strong. Last week a boy had a migraine so bad we had to take him to the hospital. He couldn't even walk. I called for several of the adults in camp to help me carry him out. Five 15 year old boys stepped forward and said, "He is a member of our troop, tell us how, and we will carry him." It was all I could do not to cry as they carried the boy nearly a quarter of a mile to the closest vehicle. Several of those boys are now on staff this week. We are proud to have them.
Yesterday a young man broke his clavicle. This can be a very painful injury. He comforted his mother on the phone as she was scared. He was released from the hospital this morning and is very disappointed that he cannot come back to camp and complete his merit badges.
Some boys break bones and yet they stay, as much as 20 stitches and they stay, smiling, participating proud to be scouts.
Last night a mother came to me in tears because her son had a serious case of HS (Home Sick) and she wanted to take him home. I was trying to talk her down when a 17 year old staff member (Gusty, I mentioned him before) stepped in, and explained to the mom how this was an important thing for her son to go through and that he was safe here. His words (identical to the ones I often use in these cases) reached the part of her heart that I could not. Then he walked her out to her car and got her on her way. Then he walked up to the campsite of the young man and talked him though a rough night. That little boy is smiling today because of Gusty's honor.
Sometimes as a teacher I get frustrated, depressed even from the excuses, name-calling and blame passing I see with students, parents and even administrations. Then I come here.
Monday, June 12, 2006
(Some of ) The boys of summer (camp)
At the specific and excited request of a dear friend of mine I am going to bore you with a description/explanation of some of my boys. These are not anywhere near complete pictures and are as much based on my perceptions and observations than concrete evidence, but are accurate none the less.
Click. This dear lad is 19, 20 in less than a month. One of my favorites, I have worked with him for three of my four years. He is very old for his age, but also very joyful and very, very smart. When I met him he was starting his senior year in high school. Taking a full AP load as well as dance and drama he achieved over a 3.5. He is now studying bio-engineering at one of the best science colleges in the south (if not the nation). This is the first summer he hasn't had a girl friend, in the past he was always completely devoted to the one he was with until she showed some substantial moral flaw and then he quickly distances them. Drinking in excess seems to be his major pet peeve in women and also inability to be themselves. This summer he is a commissioner at camp. Sort of the second in command (or in this case co-second as he has a counterpart I'll introduce in a minute). There are few I trust like Click. He was the one who truly made me feel camp was home. One time during an awful storm when we were taking all the campers to the dining hall, I got in last. He met me at the door and hugged me so hard I squeaked. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Nothing now that you are here and I know you are safe." He answered then he simply walked away off to do other things. No big deal. It was a golden moment for me as I now knew I mattered at camp. He is also a real joy to watch up here. He is great with the kids, fair with the staff and a very hard worker. Sometimes to his detriment, but in the end he works it out.
Windy. The is Click's partner at camp so to speak. Wiry and dark (Click's opposite) he seems very quiet but is very observant. He has a much taller, much deeper voiced brother we call Gusty (both of them are using nicknames by the way) and he clearly adores him. I think that is really nice to see at camp. Brothers, both Eagle Scouts, I might add, who love working together. Windy can be very sharp too, often when you least expect it. I expect he will go far here at camp.
Mike and Jason. These are another set of Eagle brothers. One runs the kitchen the other the nature lodge. They are French Irish with thick curly hair and light eyes. Most of the girls their age swoon over their curls and deep rumbly voices. They are both very strong Catholics and while they have very much college boy humors are very respectful of women in a way that warms my heart and gives me hope for the future. They are some of the only staffers that have seen me cry, and I trust them with that. They also are always there when someone is needed in emergencies. Totally dependable.
Poje. Here is a work in progress, but someone I think I will be proud to have watched grow up. Only 16 he has a lot of responsibility. He runs rapids on kayaks with 10 scouts each week. Our youngest Kayak instructor to date. He is really trying to figure out what he believes and why. He often comes up later in the evening when it is quiet at medlodge, just to talk. Religion, girls, families, politics, future all of it. While many of my boys come talk to me about these things, I'm enjoying him the most this year as he is youngest and still testing his own beliefs. Last year on staff night off he forgot his parents were coming up to visit and left for the night. So they and I had a nice talk in my office for about an hour. Then next week they sent me cookies. What great people. He of course was mortified. I hear most of the childhood stories on my boys as their mothers often call to talk to me through out the summer. His mom is no different and she too sees the potential in her son and is excited to see who he will be
As a side note, that is probably the thing I enjoy most about camp. These staff boys and the relationships I have with them. I am too old to be a sexual threat/issue to them and too young to be a parent (the enemy). They often confide in me things no one else knows (or may ever know) and I am honored to have their trust. They give me hope for the future and they teach me so much about myself even and how we become the people that we are.
Danny and Eddie are best friends and there are no two more exuberant boys on staff. Often viewed as the future of camp these two bounce into my clinic each day to say good morning and bounce through it frequently to check on what's going on. If I come across them outside of camp they are always quick to come over, hug me and chatter on about their lives. This is odd. Most boys (and I understand and am okay with that) avoid me and each other outside of camp unless it is to talk about camp. Not so Danny and Eddie. They are all weather friends of the true kind.
Then of course there is Mark. The dining hall director who is old enough to be my father. He is such an amazing friend. We are close all year round. However we will never date or marry, much to Nana's disappointment.
These are just a few of those I think of when I speak of "my boys" They are among the most special people I have ever met. I look forward to watching the world meet them.
The world may not know what hit it.
Click. This dear lad is 19, 20 in less than a month. One of my favorites, I have worked with him for three of my four years. He is very old for his age, but also very joyful and very, very smart. When I met him he was starting his senior year in high school. Taking a full AP load as well as dance and drama he achieved over a 3.5. He is now studying bio-engineering at one of the best science colleges in the south (if not the nation). This is the first summer he hasn't had a girl friend, in the past he was always completely devoted to the one he was with until she showed some substantial moral flaw and then he quickly distances them. Drinking in excess seems to be his major pet peeve in women and also inability to be themselves. This summer he is a commissioner at camp. Sort of the second in command (or in this case co-second as he has a counterpart I'll introduce in a minute). There are few I trust like Click. He was the one who truly made me feel camp was home. One time during an awful storm when we were taking all the campers to the dining hall, I got in last. He met me at the door and hugged me so hard I squeaked. "What's wrong?" I asked. "Nothing now that you are here and I know you are safe." He answered then he simply walked away off to do other things. No big deal. It was a golden moment for me as I now knew I mattered at camp. He is also a real joy to watch up here. He is great with the kids, fair with the staff and a very hard worker. Sometimes to his detriment, but in the end he works it out.
Windy. The is Click's partner at camp so to speak. Wiry and dark (Click's opposite) he seems very quiet but is very observant. He has a much taller, much deeper voiced brother we call Gusty (both of them are using nicknames by the way) and he clearly adores him. I think that is really nice to see at camp. Brothers, both Eagle Scouts, I might add, who love working together. Windy can be very sharp too, often when you least expect it. I expect he will go far here at camp.
Mike and Jason. These are another set of Eagle brothers. One runs the kitchen the other the nature lodge. They are French Irish with thick curly hair and light eyes. Most of the girls their age swoon over their curls and deep rumbly voices. They are both very strong Catholics and while they have very much college boy humors are very respectful of women in a way that warms my heart and gives me hope for the future. They are some of the only staffers that have seen me cry, and I trust them with that. They also are always there when someone is needed in emergencies. Totally dependable.
Poje. Here is a work in progress, but someone I think I will be proud to have watched grow up. Only 16 he has a lot of responsibility. He runs rapids on kayaks with 10 scouts each week. Our youngest Kayak instructor to date. He is really trying to figure out what he believes and why. He often comes up later in the evening when it is quiet at medlodge, just to talk. Religion, girls, families, politics, future all of it. While many of my boys come talk to me about these things, I'm enjoying him the most this year as he is youngest and still testing his own beliefs. Last year on staff night off he forgot his parents were coming up to visit and left for the night. So they and I had a nice talk in my office for about an hour. Then next week they sent me cookies. What great people. He of course was mortified. I hear most of the childhood stories on my boys as their mothers often call to talk to me through out the summer. His mom is no different and she too sees the potential in her son and is excited to see who he will be
As a side note, that is probably the thing I enjoy most about camp. These staff boys and the relationships I have with them. I am too old to be a sexual threat/issue to them and too young to be a parent (the enemy). They often confide in me things no one else knows (or may ever know) and I am honored to have their trust. They give me hope for the future and they teach me so much about myself even and how we become the people that we are.
Danny and Eddie are best friends and there are no two more exuberant boys on staff. Often viewed as the future of camp these two bounce into my clinic each day to say good morning and bounce through it frequently to check on what's going on. If I come across them outside of camp they are always quick to come over, hug me and chatter on about their lives. This is odd. Most boys (and I understand and am okay with that) avoid me and each other outside of camp unless it is to talk about camp. Not so Danny and Eddie. They are all weather friends of the true kind.
Then of course there is Mark. The dining hall director who is old enough to be my father. He is such an amazing friend. We are close all year round. However we will never date or marry, much to Nana's disappointment.
These are just a few of those I think of when I speak of "my boys" They are among the most special people I have ever met. I look forward to watching the world meet them.
The world may not know what hit it.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
The Grind
Two weeks (nearly) down and six more to go.
Today we had our inspection for national standards. Big Deal! Mostly it's just a lot of bluffing.
Meanwhile children are doing not so bright things with knives.
Oh my!
Today. This poor boy attempted to shave the top of his finger tip off. He now has 8 stitches in that hand. The hard part however was getting him to hold still long enough for me to get it to stop bleeding. He kept moving every time I tried to apply pressure. Blood was spraying everywhere. For a 5'2 kid he was pretty strong. OK now, but rough fighting though.
Also scout masters. Dear God in heaven. Some of them are so cool. Really out to help, but some are just interested in trying to look cool to their scouts or more importantly trying to be, while at camp, the BMOC that they think of themselves as. It really is funny to watch them throw their weight around like they are Trump, Gates or Arnie. Funny, provided you aren't the one they are throwing their weight at.
As a medic, lots of scout masters want to help me, live the whole hero thing. They tend to exaggerate credentials and embellish abilities and experiences. One time a scoutmaster told me he was a paramedic in Miami. He was a actually a volunteer fireman, first responder to a suburb of Boca Raton... That was a long week.
The things people are thankful for. One poor boy on staff has a horrific boil on his, well, his butt. His mother called me and asked me if I would look at it and tell her what I thought. This was not something I wanted to do. But I did it. It looked terrible and painful and plus, looking at other peoples bottoms, especially minors, is not my first choice of a Monday night activity. It had to be worse for this kid than me... He hugged me and thanked me before he went home to see a dermatologist this morning.
It is also funny to me what becomes important up here. Getting to shower in private becomes an undiscovered joy. Knowing that if you leave something in the fridge it will still be there... Being able to find your radio with your stickers on it...
I still love this job...
Today we had our inspection for national standards. Big Deal! Mostly it's just a lot of bluffing.
Meanwhile children are doing not so bright things with knives.
Oh my!
Today. This poor boy attempted to shave the top of his finger tip off. He now has 8 stitches in that hand. The hard part however was getting him to hold still long enough for me to get it to stop bleeding. He kept moving every time I tried to apply pressure. Blood was spraying everywhere. For a 5'2 kid he was pretty strong. OK now, but rough fighting though.
Also scout masters. Dear God in heaven. Some of them are so cool. Really out to help, but some are just interested in trying to look cool to their scouts or more importantly trying to be, while at camp, the BMOC that they think of themselves as. It really is funny to watch them throw their weight around like they are Trump, Gates or Arnie. Funny, provided you aren't the one they are throwing their weight at.
As a medic, lots of scout masters want to help me, live the whole hero thing. They tend to exaggerate credentials and embellish abilities and experiences. One time a scoutmaster told me he was a paramedic in Miami. He was a actually a volunteer fireman, first responder to a suburb of Boca Raton... That was a long week.
The things people are thankful for. One poor boy on staff has a horrific boil on his, well, his butt. His mother called me and asked me if I would look at it and tell her what I thought. This was not something I wanted to do. But I did it. It looked terrible and painful and plus, looking at other peoples bottoms, especially minors, is not my first choice of a Monday night activity. It had to be worse for this kid than me... He hugged me and thanked me before he went home to see a dermatologist this morning.
It is also funny to me what becomes important up here. Getting to shower in private becomes an undiscovered joy. Knowing that if you leave something in the fridge it will still be there... Being able to find your radio with your stickers on it...
I still love this job...
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Busy, Crazy, Drama, Relief...
I'm down from camp for the afternoon. I go back in a couple hours. Such is life for the next seven weeks. This year camp was supposed to get DSL. However, as of now we got nuttin! So, I'm not sure when I can post again. I'll do my best.
This staff week (the week of training before camp starts) went well, only one very minor injury (3 stitches) that didn't effect staff at all... Well except the kid with stitches, but he really isn't all that upset about it... No big. Lots of work to do, not all of it done yet and national inspection is Thursday, but we'll get there.
Trying to get the bedding arrangements worked out has been a real chore. Some of the "boys" (they are actually over 18) are trying to figure out a loophole that would allow them to stay up in my building, but thankfully, this week we stayed one step ahead of them. If we can elude them two more days, which we will, they can't get in.
The drama is also about rooming. Girls are the biggest pain in the neck at camp. Girls in the sense that they are under 21, several under 18, and all think they rule the place. Actually, that's not true. Only two think they rule the place. The one over 18 doesn't want to work, wants all the perks and none of the responsibilities and feels she has the right to dictate how the other girls in her cabin live, behave, work. The other girl, under 18 is a bit more of a follower, so she could be salvaged if the big mouth was gone. Worse is when we confront them, oh, the water works. Girls crying is very upsetting to boys 23 and under. Even when they know the girls are trying to be manipulative, it still tears them up. The leadership has stood strong so far this week, but it wears on them and you can tell.
Already we have had some real bright spots. These boys work so hard and show such joy in simple things. We went to see a drive in movie last night as the end of staff week reward, Over the Hedge and Mission Impossible. I went home after over the hedge. What a delight! So funny.
The kitchen staff has convinced the administration that they will not under any circumstances allow any activities in the dining hall other than meals (which is not true, but I'm proud of the way these kids keep straight faces when the program director asks them) and are secretly planning a big party for the staff later this summer.
The room for the Director on Duty has been decorated in all Superman sheets, blankets and posters in honor of our Super Hero radio call signs. I am Rouge, by the way. I can suck the life right out of you with just a touch... The camp director is Professor X. There is also Storm, The Thing, Kal-El, The Tick, Underdog, The Hulk, Gambit, Wolverine, Human Torch, Mr. Fantastic, Iceman, The Punnisher and Mighty Mouse.
As of right now 50 people were certified in CPR and First Aid according to the new American Heart Association standards that were released this year. I found great satisfaction in being able to tell people that is they fell asleep I would make them leave (and that being true!). Better yet was watching the kids police each other on that kind of issue. Warms a teachers heart and all that...
So, week one starts Sunday, with campers arriving on Sunday at 1:00 PM. We are supposed to get internet on Wednesday, otherwise I'll have to wait till next Saturday.
This staff week (the week of training before camp starts) went well, only one very minor injury (3 stitches) that didn't effect staff at all... Well except the kid with stitches, but he really isn't all that upset about it... No big. Lots of work to do, not all of it done yet and national inspection is Thursday, but we'll get there.
Trying to get the bedding arrangements worked out has been a real chore. Some of the "boys" (they are actually over 18) are trying to figure out a loophole that would allow them to stay up in my building, but thankfully, this week we stayed one step ahead of them. If we can elude them two more days, which we will, they can't get in.
The drama is also about rooming. Girls are the biggest pain in the neck at camp. Girls in the sense that they are under 21, several under 18, and all think they rule the place. Actually, that's not true. Only two think they rule the place. The one over 18 doesn't want to work, wants all the perks and none of the responsibilities and feels she has the right to dictate how the other girls in her cabin live, behave, work. The other girl, under 18 is a bit more of a follower, so she could be salvaged if the big mouth was gone. Worse is when we confront them, oh, the water works. Girls crying is very upsetting to boys 23 and under. Even when they know the girls are trying to be manipulative, it still tears them up. The leadership has stood strong so far this week, but it wears on them and you can tell.
Already we have had some real bright spots. These boys work so hard and show such joy in simple things. We went to see a drive in movie last night as the end of staff week reward, Over the Hedge and Mission Impossible. I went home after over the hedge. What a delight! So funny.
The kitchen staff has convinced the administration that they will not under any circumstances allow any activities in the dining hall other than meals (which is not true, but I'm proud of the way these kids keep straight faces when the program director asks them) and are secretly planning a big party for the staff later this summer.
The room for the Director on Duty has been decorated in all Superman sheets, blankets and posters in honor of our Super Hero radio call signs. I am Rouge, by the way. I can suck the life right out of you with just a touch... The camp director is Professor X. There is also Storm, The Thing, Kal-El, The Tick, Underdog, The Hulk, Gambit, Wolverine, Human Torch, Mr. Fantastic, Iceman, The Punnisher and Mighty Mouse.
As of right now 50 people were certified in CPR and First Aid according to the new American Heart Association standards that were released this year. I found great satisfaction in being able to tell people that is they fell asleep I would make them leave (and that being true!). Better yet was watching the kids police each other on that kind of issue. Warms a teachers heart and all that...
So, week one starts Sunday, with campers arriving on Sunday at 1:00 PM. We are supposed to get internet on Wednesday, otherwise I'll have to wait till next Saturday.
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