By Lily Cohen ’12

The duffel bags are lined up on the cabin floor. Eleven-year-old girls can be so loud, squealing with excitement and nervous laughter. I quickly scan the group, take count, and watch as twelve campers vie for position: “I get top bunk! Bottom bunk! The one near the window! The one near the bathroom!” I am instantly reminded that not long ago I was one of these shrieking campers. Now, 7 years later, I stand here, more than a little overwhelmed, as their counselor.

As I help the girls unpack, I notice that Selena Gomez has replaced Britney Spears and hot pink Hunter Boots have become the new Crocs. Even though trends change in 7 years, a few things remain constant: the air, the smell, and the life that Camp Agawak breathes into me. While I am no longer that camper wearing cargo shorts and a backwards Red Sox baseball cap, I am still that girl that carries the values and friendships that Camp Agawak has instilled in me. This is the place where I have grown up. Now it is my turn to be the grownup and to take on a new responsibility.

I had to take over the parent-like role in my campers’ lives. They were placed in my hands with the trust of their actual parents. I was the one leading the pack and taking care of the group instead of sitting back and watching as things were done for me. At first, I was scared I wasn’t cut out for this job. After 7 summers as a camper in a cabin surrounded by my 21 best friends, how could I make the transition into a counselor? I was nervous, but I was willing to leave my experiences as a camper behind and embrace the new beginnings as a counselor and a leader of my camp. Although it was different

and challenging, I dove in headfirst, and because of that, this past summer turned into one of the most fulfilling summers of my life.

I was thrilled when I saw my camper Tess running down the path screaming with excitement when she got her first bull’s-eye in riflery. While sitting in the E.R. all night, I was relieved as I watched my smallest camper Hannah laugh and smile as she waited with a dislocated thumb; not one tear shed. I felt like a proud parent as I cheered on Ashley, the biggest tomboy I know, as she stood up on water skis for the first time. The joy I felt from my campers’ happiness showed me that I was succeeding. I was becoming a leader and helping my campers grow and

learn the same way that Agawak had taught me to be a strong, independent and kind person. Everything I said, every bedtime story I told, no matter how silly, mattered to these 12 kids; they looked up to me, and I wouldn’t dare let them down.

Every day I was reminded of my own development as a camper through interacting with my 11-year-olds. I was reminded by the arguments I heard over seats at lunch and who tubes with whom. But a few weeks later, it was the tears I watched running down my campers’ cheeks on the last night of camp along with the sincerity and love behind their final hugs, that solidified the impact I made on each one of my campers. I noticed tears streaming down my own face when I heard, “Cabin X time to board bus number 2” over the microphone in the lodge. As my 12 campers, my children for the summer, joined me in one final group hug, I could point out how each one of them, in their own unique way, made an impact on me as well.

Change is inevitable. Whether it’s making the transformation from camper to counselor or the switch from smiley fries to sweet potatoes at lunch, my ability to adjust to new beginnings with a positive attitude represents the growth that only Agawak could have provided for me.