I love camp. I loved it before I even really knew what it was. I remember watching a camp promotional video in a director’s office just prior to an interview for what would hopefully be my first job at camp. It was all I could do to stop myself from begging her for a job or offering to work for free just so I could be there. It was love at first sight!
Thankfully I didn’t need to do either. She offered me a job later that day. As she tells the story now, 18 years later, I was a male with a pulse and in 1994 that’s all you really needed. Back then she told me I was a diamond in the rough (never having gone to camp or worked with children before) and that she had a ‘good feeling’ about me. I suspect there’s some truth in both accounts. Either way she certainly didn’t regret the decision. I’ve gained some polish along the way and I am now one of her most trusted advisors on many things camp – a role that gives me tremendous pleasure.
Given my love for camp and my great love for my camp, I’ve had a difficult time writing about what it was like for gays and lesbians at camp in the 90s when I was on staff versus what it’s like for them now – the purpose for which I was invited to write this post.
Instead of writing about that, I only want to write about how incredible my camp experience was, how it had a huge impact on who I am today and that being there my first summer opened doors to a whole new world that ultimately lead to some incredible journeys and personal growth. All of which is 100% true.
Unfortunately that doesn’t tell the whole story though. It leaves out the parts where some of the most homophobic experiences I’ve encountered and participated in happened while I was on staff at camp in the 90s. I know what we did wasn’t condoned by the director. But I also know that it was fairly rampant without being overtly addressed. I would like to think that it didn’t trickle down to our campers but I think that might be a little naïve. And for that, I am sorry.