Testing Myself & Teaching Others

It was Sunday night, and I’d just arrived at camp Howard, a small campsite that serves outdoor school, for my first time being a student leader for sixth graders. I was with another student leader in a tiny cabin, both of us only sophomores, and we were put in charge of nine girls -more than any other students in the whole camp. I was a first timer; she a second. And, that night they told us we were getting yet another girl, one who was friends with the two snottier girls we had, and who had emotional and behavioral problems that could be quite difficult to handle.  I was outraged. 1

By the end of the week I was thrilled to have had Kayla, the girl who I’d been so weary of having, in my cabin, despite and because of her emotional and behavioral difficulties. Along with her, we'd also had a special needs college leader join our cabin. With thirteen girls, we had 3 more people in our cabin than the next largest in the camp. We were the biggest, the loudest, and the most enthusiastic by far. 2

Sunday night, when I was told about Kayla, having never met her, I was disturbed by my own images of her. I was informed that she was self-destructive, must be carefully watched, is disobedient, likes dressing inappropriately sometimes, is very self-absorbed, obsesses over her appearance often, is immature, and is a negative influence on girls around her at times. I found myself being afraid of a little sixth grade girl.  I was afraid of being put in charge of a girl that was so much like I had been in sixth grade.... 3

Kayla wasn't at all what I had expected. She was cute, but not shockingly pretty like her two friends had described her. She was dressed very modestly, and she wore no make up or jewelry.  Her face shape is just ever so slightly off - no one would notice unless, like me, they were exposed to it constantly.  I could immediately tell she had a of disability of some sort.  I noticed that, despite the fact that it was quite warm out, she had on a long sleeved shirt with a sweater on top, and I made a mental note of it.  I checked her hands and wrists, and as much of her arms as I could see and they seemed clear.4

Less than twenty-four hours later a large gash appeared on the back of her hand, and small slices on her wrists. I quietly reported it to my mentor. I felt like bawling. I'd failed her and I'd failed myself. I should've been able to keep her from hurting herself. 5

The next day I looked at both of Kayla's friends who were in my cabin. The more obnoxious one had three horrible scars on the back of her hands, and too many to count on her wrists and arms. The other, Sara, had none visible, and I was so relieved.  As I looked around throughout the week at the girls from Kayla's class, every one but three that I met had scars from cutting themselves with razors, or rubbing and scraping at their own skin with their fingers and nails.  I felt like smacking every last one of them, but at the same time, I wanted to grab hold of them, and never let go. I knew exactly what they were going through. 6

At the final campfire, I began talking with Sara, the girl I had grown closest to over the week. She had a plastic bag of dirt, and she cautiously showed it to me, then began telling me about it.  "My best friend was killed in a car wreck a year ago. I took a cup of dirt from her backyard and brought it here with me for the tree-planting ceremony. We'd planned on going to outdoor school together. But she died before we could, so I'm bringing a part of her here. A part of her will help that little tree grow. I wish she could've been here for this though."  I looked over at Sara as she told us her story, and saw her eyes shining with tears.  I wanted to wrap her in a hug, but she was too far away.  I settled for patting her arm, and holding back my own tears. We both turned our gaze back to the beautiful campfire before us, and took in the unique outdoor school melodies being played. 7

On our final night together, I sat with my girls in a circle on the floor. The cabin was pitch black with only a small flashlight shining upwards in the middle of our circle, illuminating our tear-stained faces. We went around the circle, and said whatever we wanted to about our weeklong experience at outdoor school, either as a leader, or as a student. Several of the girls said how much the personal goodnights I gave them meant to them. 8

The girl with the many slices and scars began crying as she told me that no one had ever told her that she's a good person before, or complimented her. She told me that during the personal goodnights I made her feel better than she'd ever felt about herself before. She reached across the circle and hugged me, and thanked me for being so nice to her, and I almost broke down into tears myself. She was the same girl who less than twenty-four hours before I'd been afraid disliked me - I couldn't believe how wrong I'd been. .9

Friday was an extremely emotional day, full of a lot of events. I saw gang-banger sixth graders break down crying because they didn't want to leave their cool student leader friends, and tough black eleven-year-old girls scream because they didn't want to go home to their horrible home life. Sara was chosen to represent her school in the tree planting ceremony; I hope her friend was watching her, and was there with her, as Sara had wanted. 10

I came to my own personal realizations. I want to teach.  I want to help younger people.  I knew it before, to a degree, but now it's a certainty. I'm more confident of myself and my teaching and even my hiking abilities. I know I'm able to work with other people, and I know I don't need to be with my friends. I was transferred from Plants section, with my boy friend and two of my friends, to the Wildlife section, where I knew no one. But I got to know two sisters who were awesome, and Mate, an Argentinian guy who was amazingly fun to hang with, and who I'm enjoying keeping contact with.11

If I'd have stayed in Plants, I would've been in the background, behind my friend Luna, a second-timer,  Jedi, a plants expert, and Fish.  Even in a different field study from where he was, I was referred to as "just Fishes' girl friend" by several people.  I got to be a teacher on my own, and got to test myself.  I realized that my boy friend needs his own experiences too, and he's not the kind of guy who cares to have his girl friend around too much.  He had no problem not being around me for a week, and made no effort to spend extra time with me. I realized that I’d have to deal with that, and I filled up my little free time meeting new people and new guys.  It was good for me. 12

I got to make a difference in many kids lives, several girls in particular. It's something I will definitely continue doing now that I have more confidence in myself and in my abilities. And, I'll do it completely on my own.13