PLANTATIONS

Today, we took a weekend field trip. After seven weeks of life in the South, we finally got the history lesson I had been waiting for. We woke up early and drove about an hour northwest of the city to visit a plantation. Mindy drove us and she and I packed our cameras, ready to get some shots of the grounds, buildings or whatever presented itself.
The plantation we visited was a restored property dating back to the 1830’s. The history of the house and the families was interesting but for your sake, I won’t repeat it here. One feature was one of five of the world’s original swivel chairs. From that description, it sounds pretty lame but the magic of presentation had everyone in the tour group flitting about in a tizzy like they were looking at the Mona Lisa.
We chose this particular plantation for its preservation of the original slave quarters and schoolhouse. Small buildings in poor condition (in keeping with historical accuracy) they were in stark contrast to the opulent plantation home. Inside was a register with the names, lineage, and price of all the slaves who worked on the plantation. One of my fellow counselors pointed out the fact that all the information available on the individual was included. Name, lineage, and price? Is that how you describe a person?


DESSERTFEST

To begin, I should address the two most common questions about Dessertfest:
1) What is Dessertfest? The short answer is Dessertfest is a performance put on by people involved with Camp A for parents of people involved with Camp A.
2) Why is it called Dessertfest? It’s called this because it’s a potluck style event where each parent invited is asked to bring a dessert with them to share after the performance.
Camp A counselors take part in two types of Dessertfests. The first comes after the completion of the training sessions before counselors are sent to their placement sites. Parents of the counselors are invited to see what exactly their kids will be doing during the summer. They are subjected to “blitz” (our high-energy morning songs), skits, and closing songs (think Kum-bay-ya). While on site, the counselors who formerly participated in Dessertfest host the event. This time, the campers are the ones performing the songs and skits and the counselors are the ones in the back of the room biting their nails hoping nothing goes awry.
There is only one of these Dessertfests every summer so we do our damndest to make sure it goes right. Tears are shed (as is blood – safety scissors are an inaccurate name) as we counselors add the daunting task of making twice the regular number of decorations for the week to our already hectic workload. The stress permeates the office while campers miraculously remain oblivious to the mounting tension. Our theme was Alice in Wonderland. We painted three full color, bedsheet size murals and crafted countless knick-knacks to display around the room. Our director sacrificed Friday’s pooltime to put the finishing touches on the room before the parents began to arrive and when they did, everyone in the room was ready to pop from the anticipation.
The important thing about Dessertfest is no matter how much preparation you do, Murphy’s Law still holds. The speakers will cut out unexpectedly, campers will say “nay-da-mur-ator” instead “enlarging machine” (this actually happened. I won’t try to explain the mind of a 7 year old) and people will talk when they’re not supposed to. That being said, Dessertfest is also the time where the elusive “magic” that gets mentioned so often in our training happens. I had picked two campers to present closing songs for the end of the event.
One camper I selected, whose mother passed away less than a month ago, stepped forward into the circle we had formed around the camper’s parents. “Hello, my name is Brittany”. Camp A’s response, as always, “Hi, Brittany, welcome to Camp Adventure!” Her response came haltingly but genuinely, “I’d like to dedicate ‘God Bless the USA’ to my dad”. A collective “awww…” came up from the group but it was easy to sense the heaviness in the air as everyone was reminded of the real reason Camp Adventure exists.
The song ended and before anyone could dry their eyes, my next camper stepped forward.
“Hi, my name is Jamie”
“Hi, Jamie, welcome to Camp Adventure!”
“I’d like to dedicate ‘My Wish’ because my wish is the my mommy will come back from Iraq”
Those who could hear her soft voice were shaken. Her father got up from his seat and held his little girl in his arms as she cried. For the counselors, it was hard to watch one of our most resilient, respectful, and stoic campers break down and it was all anyone could do to follow the lyrics.