When I was a child, I could get lost for days in a good story. Instead of playing on the trampoline or swimming in the pool, I could be found sitting on the bench swing in my backyard with my nose buried in the sweet, sweet aroma of a brand-new novel. My favorite book to read on that bench swing was Sleepaway Girls by Jen Calonita, and believe it or not, this book made me want to be a camp counselor. It was my dream job at the time, and I never thought that I would have the chance to live out one of my dreams in real time.

I longed to attend a sleepaway camp at the ripe age of ten; however, the cards were not in my favor, and I never got the chance. Almost ten years later, I had the opportunity to work my childhood dream job, and for the past three years, I have spent each summer working as a camp counselor. There have been both highs and lows to this job choice, and unfortunately, there have been more lows than highs. What I am about to indulge by no means speaks to my time working with the campers, because even though they tested my patience over the years, they were a pleasure to work with and foster a growth in their personalities and characters that I hope lasts as they grow into the fine human beings I know they can be. What I am about to indulge speaks to the poor leadership qualities and organization methods of the men and women in charge of a facility that aims at shaping the community’s youth into fine young citizens.

The great irony of this situation is that the children at times acted more like adults than the adults in charge ever did, and not only that, but the campers were very attuned to the poor planning and non-existent boss. Before I get too into the great disaster that was this summer, I need to take it back a few years to my first summer on the job …

I was so excited to trade in ink stains and coffee highs for running shoes and tan lines; I was beyond ready for camp to begin. I was excited to work with the kids and knock out a few internship hours while I was at it – you know, two birds one stone. I’m a master at multi-tasking. If multi-tasking were an event at the Olympics, I would win gold.

That summer was my first insight into the demands and creativity behind child care. My boss was invested in the program and performed regular check-ins with the counselors, who were all either fresh out of high school or in college. The summer was meticulously planned out from start to finish, and the campers truly enjoyed every activity as they came and went during the summer of 2016.

One year later …

Once again, I found myself itching to throw the classics aside and dive right back into a fun-filled summer with a great group of kids. I was placed at the same camp location as the year prior, and it was so delightful to hear the campers yell, “Miss Alex, you’re back!” as they enveloped me in a giant bear hug. I was ready to take on the summer one day at a time, and that’s exactly what it felt like – the slow crawl from one day to the next for about three months.

This was the summer when the program started its slow descent into mass destruction. The summer agenda was not as thoroughly planned out as the year before, and I couldn’t place my finger on exactly what could have changed. And then it hit me like a slap in the face: boss lady had a new boyfriend, who just so happened to be her assistant.

And this is where I pause because at the time, I was baffled. Fast-forward to three months ago, and I was furious. When I started this job, I was given a little handbook that expressed the rules and guidelines a person must follow when working for this affiliation. One of those rules just so happened to express the utter inappropriateness of dating a coworker, especially someone who works under you. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure that rule applies to most work environments, and I just couldn’t believe that it had been going on for almost two years and no one said anything. Play.

So, not only did boss lady have a new boy toy to follow her around, but she also became less and less present to the counselors who worked for her and most importantly, the campers. At my camp particularly, we were always running out of supplies, and they were never replenished. That forced four young counselors who work part-time making barely over minimum wage to buy supplies just to get through a week or a month. We would go about a week without tape or paper towels or cleaning supplies. Where was boss lady in our time of need?

This summer was most certainly on the decline from the previous summer. I had had enough, and even though I was frustrated and not necessarily in the mood to continue living out my “dream” job, something in my gut told me that one more summer was in the books for me whether I liked it or not.

Another year later …

And one last summer I completed, and while it was a nightmare, there were some moments that made the dream worth it in the end. There were so many moments where I wanted to quit or cry or scream or yell. I was frustrated and angry, and these emotions were not even about the campers half the time; it was the adults who truly never learned what child care should be about. It is never about you as the adult; it is always about the children. Therefore, your month-long vacation with your lost puppy of a boyfriend means nothing because instead, you should have been planning a summer worth the money parents pay to send their kids to summer camp.

As the boss, there should have been more involvement in the operations at each camp site. This summer, I was placed at a new location, and the way this move was pitched to me was different than what I was met with my first full week. I was told I was being moved to help work on setting a new standard for behavioral issues because this camp would have an influx of entirely new campers. This was entirely wrong, and while the summer was better than last behavioral-wise, it was still a struggle for the counselors. The biggest struggle and frustration was the fact that my boss wanted no parts of dealing with angry parents; she left all the hard conversations and explaining behavioral issues up to three college-age girls while she did absolutely nothing.

I’ve already expressed my anger about the wannabee counselor with no training who thought he was playing the role of drill sergeant, so I won’t rehash that portion of this disaster. However, there were many other outstanding issues, such as lack of supplies, never having all the supplies for planned activities, being placed at a location with minimal access to playgrounds and open fields for the kids to run around in, an attitude that unnecessarily left the counselors bewildered as to why they were being reprimanded or passive aggressively attacked for nothing whatsoever, etc. There is honestly too much for me to try and explain about how disastrous this summer was. One of my biggest issues leaving this job is that there is really no CEO or Board of Directors with accurate contact information for my coworkers and I to express our concerns. I will be looking further into this dilemma, but for now this will have to do.

Reality.

The reality of this work experience is that I learned many valuable lessons along the way. While I do not agree with how the organization is operated, I did love working with children from the community I grew up in. I made many a friend in various coworkers, and they truly kept me sane and grounded this summer. Without them, I would have thrown a punch and probably got fired and then I would be telling a different story. What I want to leave you avid readers with is this: don’t wait for the next person to come along and speak up about an issue or make a difference. Take charge, use your voice, and tell your story. Stand up for the youth in your own communities because they deserve better than to be given the short end of the stick while the boss lady and her cohorts gossip in the office and their employees handle all the dirty work. This tale doesn’t end here; I, along with a few of my former coworkers, will be reaching out however we can to make a change in this organization because if we don’t, who’s to say someone else will?

I’m about to trade in my running shoes and tan lines in for ink stains and coffee highs for the last time, and I feel more prepared than ever before based on this summer of experiences to keep taking on the world one day and one cup of coffee at a time.