At the point in my life where my peers are spending their summers interning, taking classes, and researching, my decision to once again spend almost all of my summer at an all-girls summer camp is often met with surprise. Confusing what is meaningful with what will look good on a job application, they find little worth in my summer plans. And maybe they’re right that leading hiking, backpacking, climbing, and caving trips and facilitating the low and high ropes courses won’t make me a frontrunner trying to break into my currently unknown future career. But to me it’s worth it, because although my job is leading trips and facilitating the ropes course, I like to think that I’m facilitating self-growth and leading the development of self-confidence instead.
At home and at school, young people are given a narrow path to success where deviation is not looked upon warmly. In a world that seems to be becoming equal parts participation trophies and being told that you’re not good enough, there isn’t much room for actual success, the kind that involves failure. The pressure to be perfect, while certainly felt by most Davison students, is a whole new beast as experienced by girls in Middle School. But at camp, these girls get to see failure not as a reflection of lack of ability but as an invitation to try again, and to try harder. Look no further than a camper on her first backpacking trip to understand that only through great risk comes to potential for great success. Nothing extraordinary ever comes from a place of comfort. When I belay a girl who is afraid of heights up the climbing wall for the first time, or witness a camper with a previously ruptured femur (it’s possible, apparently) hike to the top of a 6,030 foot mountain without a single complaint, or watch the excitement in a girl’s eyes when she ties a Butterfly Knot correctly for the first time, I am blown away by the fearlessness of these young people. Making someone feel comfortable enough to try something new or working with a girl over and over until she masters a skill gives me a breathtaking feeling of pride that I don’t feel anywhere else. These campers remind me that even though I’m at the point of my life where I generally think I know what I’m good at and what I’m not good at, I must continue to risk my comfort and reputation in search of self-knowledge or else chance never discovering new talents or experiencing any growth. The enthusiasm with which the campers throw themselves into new things is a model I intend to carry with me my entire life.
So to those who question my decision to go back to camp for the thirteenth year this upcoming summer, my response is: I may not be building my resumé, but I am building young women, and I will continue to do this for as long as I can.