Drink lots of Water

I miss camp oh so very much, and was sad that I had to do the whole real world thing.  I could not have asked for more wonderful campers, even in those moments where I wanted to dunk them in the lake in frustration.  I wrote this poem with my co-CIT director my last summer as a well wish for the CITs and hopefully some good advice.

Water
To the CITs of 2010, drink lots of water.

If we could offer you only one tip for the future, drinking water would be it.

The long term benefits of drinking water have been proved by camp nurses whereas the rest of our advice has no basis more reliable than our own meandering experiences.

We will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and fun of being a camper. Never mind. You will not fully understand the power and fun of being a camper until untill you step foot in Okashi. But trust us, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself as a CIT and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous your dirt tan really was.

Okashi is not as amazing as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying get clean by taking a bath in lake Deveraux. The real troubles at camp are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 5:45pm when you are late to flag.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s dreams, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Sing more.

Don’t waste your time on beauty routines; sometimes you’re clean, sometimes you’re not. The summer is long, and in the end, it’s only camp.

Remember the good songs you learn, forget the annoying ones; if you succeed in doing this, tell us how.

Keep your old camp letters, recycle your old schedules.

Sing louder.

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know if you want to work program or units. The most amazing people we know didn’t know at 17 which they wanted to do, and some of the most amazing 25 year olds we know have done both - twice.

Use plenty of sunscreen.

Be kind to your feet, wear socks and closed toed shoes.

Maybe you’ll come back, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll send your children here, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll be camp director at 40, maybe you’ll do the Tennessee wiggle walk on the camps 100th anniversary.

Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself, either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your voice, use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.

Dance. Never worry about having nowhere to do – it’s camp.

Listen to your counselor, even if you’ll forget what they said.

Don’t read ghost stories, they will only keep you and your campers up at night.

(Do not read dirty romance novels, they will only make your horny)

Get to know your counselors, you never know when they’ll have to work in the real world.

Be nice to your fellow CITs; they are the people who are with you now and those most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in Mountaineer once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Pixie once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Use walking feet.

Accept certain inalienable truths, bugs will bite, biffy’s will smell, you too will become staff, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were campers bugs didn’t bite, biffy’s didn’t smell and campers respected their counselors.

Respect your counselors.

Always know others will support you. Maybe you have two staff and full unit in beaver, maybe you’ll have a one to one camper ratio; but you never know what the next session will bring.

Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you leave camp, it will look like the bride of frakenstein’s.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

But trust us about drinking water.

oh no
oh no
who is this i remember this poem I WAS THERE WHEN IT WAS READ
i can’t even