Joyce From Morris - The Story of a Creepy Old Lady

I'm on a day camp in Morris right now. First of all, let me just tell you that despite the fact that Morris is a pretty small town, this day camp is awesome. Probably because the kids we're working with are fantastic, our host family is nice, and they have a really nice house with nice things.

Today, for one of our scheduled game times, the other counselors and I decided to take the kids outside to play a game (ships and sailors, if you were wondering. I'm sure you don't know what that even means unless you work or have worked at camp, though). During the third round of the game, I realized that there was an elderly lady holding a newspaper and a glass of beverage (I'm not entirely sure what the beverage was), standing on the sidewalk watching us. "Well, okay," I thought, because old people love kids - it didn't seem too weird to me. She cheered for the winners of that round and said, "You're all winners to me!" I still wasn't too weirded out at this point. Then she came over to me. I was holding my guitar for some reason - probably because I'm weird (there were exactly zero reasons for me to have my guitar) - and the lady asked if I could play in A minor. I can't, because I don't know what that even means. "Um, I can play an A minor! Lolz," I replied.

"Can you finish it?" I have no idea what that means. To be honest, I'm not sure she knows what that means.

"Uhh...wha-? Probably not...?"

"Can you follow me?"

"Umm, no."

"Do you know how to play 'This Land Is Your Land?'"

"Nope."

"Is it okay if I sing it with the kids? I'll do it a capella."

"Um, yeah! Wait, ...yeah? Sure. I think."

"Okay!" She then walked up to the kids, who were assembled in three lines because they were waiting to start another round of ships and sailors. "Hello, children! My name is Joyce, and I want to see if you can put your hands together." The kids all clapped once. "That's right! Put your hands together for our country!" Then she started singing 'This Land Is Your Land' and all of us counselors and all of the children were equally confused and weirded out. Once she finished the song, I started the next round of ships and sailors. One kid didn't want to play, though. He was probably traumatized from that crazy lady. She hadn't left, though, and offered her help. "Hey, kiddo, come on over here," she said. He did, but only because she was standing in the designated area for kids who had gotten out. "Let me tell you what I like about you, kiddo," she said, bending over so she could look him right in the eyes. Like anything with a brain would do, the poor lil' fella backed way up. "Come back over here. I'm not gonna bite ya. I'm not even gonna touch ya. You're a redhead, and us redheads gotta stick together." She then extended her arm and held out her hand. "Can I have a high five?" and the kid backed away even more. Then Joyce just left, and we hurried all the kids back into the church, away from the crazy ladies that apparently just roam the streets of Morris, searching for children to creep on.

Paz Y Esperanza, Parte Dos: El Primer Dia - ¡Aye, No!

I've already gone into detail about my concerns heading into the Paz Y Esperanza day camp, yeah? Well, this post is going to be about the first day.

On Sunday, Jenna, Katelyn (the two other counselors on my day camp team), and I had met a few of the kids we'd be working with. On Monday, predictably, there were a lot more kids. There were even a few kids who never attended the church there, even. That's totally fine. That's actually great - maybe they'll learn something. There were two, though, that were not doing any learning. I honestly have no idea why they even showed up. All they did was cause problems. They wouldn't participate in any activity we did. Instead, they'd either go off by themselves and dink around or stay in the group and be disruptive. The helpers on the day camp were really surprised after the group those two kids were in finished their Bible study with me.

"Wow, they were so quiet! What did you do to them?" The weird thing is, they weren't quiet at all. I was horrified to think that maybe they weren't even trying to be disruptive and maybe later they would be trying.

"Well, if they didn't pay attention to me when I was reading, I'd start the whole reading over again, or if they couldn't tell me what I had just read, I'd make them read it to me." That actually worked kind of. I feel like they at least received the information, anyway. It didn't work to keep them quiet.

The two troublemakers also realized that Jenna, Katelyn, and I all struggle with Spanish, so they would speak Spanish to each other and then laugh and look around to see if they were going to get in trouble, which led me to believe that they were saying inappropriate things. I don't know why, but I'm bothered when people do things that warrant punishment but don't get punished. I tell myself it's because I'm really into justice, but I feel like I may have some sort of disorder. One time those two kids were off with a couple other kids while the rest were playing a game. I went over to stand by them to keep them in line (I'm really into justice, remember).

"Oh, Joe, what are you doing here?"

"I'm just over here so I can keep an eye on you guys."

"Which one?"

"You. And you, and you, and you, and-"

"Y tu, y tu, y tu..."

"Exactly."

"Wait, how do you know what that means?"

"I took Spanish in college," (just for two semesters, but I mean, come on. "Y tu, y tu, y tu?" I understand that).

"So you know what we've been saying?"

"Yeah, and you're lucky I'm letting it slide."

"Nah-uh. What am I saying now? 'Junior, vamonos.'"

"Junior, let's go."

"......"

Really? He's gonna test my Spanish comprehension with "vamonos"? I knew what that meant just from watching Dora the Explorer. It got them to stop speaking Spanish, though.

Near the end of the day, we had a song fest because the kids need to know the songs for the parents program at the end of the week. When we told the kids this, the two turds said they weren't going to come back. That was the happiest I was during the whole first day. I feel like this post is not doing an adequate job of explaining just how turdish these two kids were, so don't judge me.

Also, they didn't come back, and that was awesome.

Paz Y Esperanza

Hola, mis amigos. I'm not sure if that's right, so I'm gonna stop with the Spanish. Last week I had to be a day camp leader for the first time in my still-brief counseling career. I was a little nervous because if you know me, you know that a leadership role does not play to my strengths. My strengths, if you're wondering, are making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and texting with one hand. Sadly, those help me in a very limited number of real life situations. One of those situations is not leading day camp. Day camp, by the way, is pretty much vacation bible school, where a few counselors from camp will go to a church and do camp things with the kids. Camp things consist of playing games, singing songs, doing bible studies, and making crafts. Normally, the counselors will stay at a host family's house for the week, but the day camp I was on was only twenty minutes away from camp, so we would commute every day. I started the week with a few concerns. They are as follows:

1. I was the DCL (Day Camp Leader)
Like I said, I've never been a DCL before, but I was aware that I probably wouldn't succeed in that role. I feel like I know what's going on most of the time, but to have to organize everything is a little overwhelming for me. Like, I'm not 100% sure on protocol for most things day camp related, and I feel like that's not a good trait for a DCL. Also, I had not received any DCL training, so I wasn't aware of most of things I was supposed to do. Luckily, I had a resource (the day camp binder), and when I get nervous and have access to a resource, I use that resource. A lot. I read through that binder probably three times every day, and that's how I realized I should probably fill out most of the forms regarding the day camp. However, there was another stressor related to this one...

2. I didn't have my binder for the first day
Since I'd never been a DCL before, I wasn't really sure of how the whole process of receiving the day camp binder worked. I assumed someone at the site I work at (Shores of St. Andrew) would have the binder, find me, say, "Joe, here's your binder for day camp," give me the binder, and walk away. None of those things were true. Apparently, I was sent an email from our sister site (Green Lake) which said I needed to drive there to pick up the binder and the car we would be using. I never got that email. So, on Sunday morning when we were supposed to be going to our church for day camp, I was freaking out because I didn't have my binder. The binder contains useful information such as, but not limited to, who I'm supposed to meet with at the church, directions on how to get to the church, if we are participating in the service at all, and if we're supposed to do something after the service at all. Kris, the waterfront director, looked up directions on his phone for me and we had an unused camp car at Shores, so those two things were taken care of. Luckily, the first person we saw in the church was the person who we were supposed to meet with. However, we were supposed to sing songs during the service, but we were not prepared for that. We ended up doing a skit during the children's sermon and called it good.


3. I was the only "guitar player" in the group
If you're wondering why "guitar player" is in quotes, it's because I wouldn't exactly call myself a guitar player. I'm just someone who knows chords on the guitar. Unfortunately, I was the only one on my day camp team who could even say that. Thus, I was the guitar player. I had never been the guitar player for a day camp before, and it was something near the top of my "I Never Want To Do This In My Lifetime" list (first and second on that list would be to pass a kidney stone and to receive a catheter. On a different note, is "receive" the right word to use in regard to a catheter? I mean, what else would you use? I'm gonna go with "receive").


4. I'm not fluent in Spanish
"Paz Y Esperanza" is actually Spanish for "Peace and Hope." The fact that the church is named "Paz Y Esperanza" is a pretty dead giveaway that the congregation is mostly Hispanic. They definitely are. My Spanish is spotty at best. Fortunately, the kids all spoke English and the helpers were bilingual. Everything went better than expected!

Things I've Learned At Camp (So Far)

Camp is almost in full swing for the summer; staff training just finished up and on Sunday, campers will be coming. Even though I've already experienced life as a camp counselor last year, I feel like there are many things for me to learn. For instance, here are ten things I learned from the first week of staff training and the day camp I went on this last week.

1. A weed whacker doubles as a lawn mower and triples as a hedge trimmer.

2. When a kid poops her pants - twice - it does not decrease her cuteness at all.

3. When said kid says, "My mommy says I have soft stools," after pooping her pants, pooping her pants actually makes her cuter.

4. My "angry dad" voice scares kids like nothing else.

5. The best way to avoid the Lutheran theology seminar is to be sick.

6. The best meal of the day is late-night cereal.

7. There's no shame in going to bed at 9:30, even though it's summer.

8. Sometimes teddy bears are actually horrifying instead of cute (my host family had the most terrifying teddy bear I've ever seen. Like, seriously - this is the stuff from which nightmares are made).

9. If the meal is beef commercials and hashbrowns, I can put it down like Kobayashi.

10. Sometimes people will just steal your Cheez-Its and give them to the kids for snack.