Oh, hi!

So the day in Ojai was actually quite nice. No one I didn't want to talk to bothered to talk to me, either, and for once in my life, I wasn't paranoid about it. No one hassled me, either. My co-counselor from last year is with the very youngest kids who are at camp for too short a time for visitors (they only go two weeks, instead of four), so she and her campers were at a nearby water park instead. I did see a few old friends from years ago that were there to visit other friends and family. There were more questions about the truth behind things like the "Naked Run" and "Clothing Optional Classes" rumors about Santa Cruz from those in such boring places as Irvine and Davis. I suppose if you pick the shitty UC, you have to wonder about the wired one. Personally, I'm damn proud of the weird one, complete with the unattractive naked people for an hour a year. I've never seen anyone show up nude to class to date, though.

I think my problem with camp was the role I was trying to take on. While I enjoyed working with campers, I hated the dependence I was forced to have on my co-counselors; the slightest difference in management styles created road blocks, and we spent as much time arguing about how to do things as actually doing them, which is part of why I've never particularly been a fan of group work. Furthermore, I am not the type to completely let down my guard and embarrass myself with inane cheers or dances simply for the entertainment of campers, and I have rather limited supplies of useless energy (though for whatever reason, I get along great with kids under age seven). Both of these things help make for an excellent counselor, since they seem younger at heart and the kids (usually between eight and thirteen) relate to them well. I am an old heart, and I relate to these kids better when I am treating them like more mature human beings, and expect to be treated the same way. This is not really possible with and eleven-year-old on a sugar rush following ice cream on a Saturday night trying desperately to get the boy from the bunk next door too look at her, no matter how tired I am, and I can't handle it for as long as summer camp needs me to. Eventually, I break down and get dangerously depressed and feel helpless and useless. That's when I overly experience my social anxieties and think that people will hate me if they know anything about me, and things like my right arm occur.
I think if I tried to approach camp from the specialist side, as a teacher or an office worker or something, I'd have a much better experience. I may apply to work as a Juadica teacher or an Israel educator for next year, just to keep my options open in case I don't find a way to stay up north next summer. I'd have the opportunity to teach kids of all ages, and I'd only have each group for an hour a day, five days a week. It'd be six hours on in the mornings and afternoons, and my evenings and nights would be my own. I'd develop my own lesson plans within the camps guidelines, and would not need to coordinate anything with a co-counselor I can only barely stand. Also, since I'll be 20 next year, I'd have the opportunity to stay in one of the nicer staff rooms, instead of the bunks and tents that counselors and younger specialists have to live in.

Another highly positive thing about the day: The camp needs a few people to help staff an upcoming alumni weekend, and very few of the current staff are willing/able to stay, either because of school schedule or exhaustion, and this is the one place where my work experience does hold some weight. The director of the camp also asked if I could babysit his kids for about a week after camp is over. He has three sons, ages five, three, and nine-ten months, so that while it will be a handful, it will be something to do (I hate being bored for too long), and it will earn me some money.