Finally Getting the Camp Experience
___by John Bannon
This summer I had the pleasure of being a counselor at the Young Men’s Leadership Camp in
Macedonia. Some background information: I haven’t attended a camp in almost twenty years, much
less worked at one. My parents visited when the camp was held last year, so my lack of participation
last year can be blamed on them. No matter, I thought, I’ve worked with youth, and it can’t be that
much different in a camp setting, can it?
Background fact #2: I wasn’t sure this
camp was actually going to happen.
For many different reasons, none
relating to the three directors – Natty
Hussey, Scottie Pinkster, and Justin
Boutwell – the period leading up to the
camp was filled with uncertainty
relating to unapproved grants,
cooperating
organizations
not
cooperating, and a change of venue. In
fact, props to those three and others for
making this camp actually happen. But
I had committed, so off I went despite
all the uncertainties.
I knew it would be a fun week as my
trip there included a taxi ride with a John's camper group (photo by John Bannon)
crazy Albanian who had resided in
Chicago for a number of years – his two favorite English phrases being “Get outta here!” and “Shut
up!” in an endearingly abrasive yet friendly accent. At camp, I met the eight young men I would be
responsible for. Right off the bat, we needed to come up with a team flag and cheer to go along with
the color: black. Damn. Black? Ok, we wound up with the Black Shadows, we got about 25% of a
flag done, and croaked out something resembling a cheer.
Fast forward to the last full day of camp: We’d altered the cheer giving one young man the
opportunity to say something different preceding our less than original “Black Shadows” chant – his
version that day being “Bringing Sexy Back.” We won a few of the Olympics sports events and lost
a few points for sportsmanship (or lack thereof). And while some of the members of my group said
it was an honor being there, or that they didn’t have the words to express how great it was, I think a
facebook message I got today from one camper meant the most. He asked if he could write an “esej”
so I could stay in Macedonia for another year like Scottie. Thanks for making me look bad, Scottie.
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