The icy water splashed onto my skin as I jumped in the pool for the third time. Emerging from the water, I looked over to the camper I was playing with. Four-year-old Davie began bouncing up and down as I waded over to the shallow-end pool steps where she sat with a ginormous grin on her face. “Again! Again!” she said, giggling. “Okay, but just one more time.” “Two more,” she said. “Oh alright, two more,” I laughed. Davie’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she turned, running up the steps, and out of the water with me not trailing far behind. I watched as she approached the 3ft edge of the poolside and jumped into the water. I was about to do the same, when I heard my name called from the shaded picnic tables next to the pool. I looked
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Davie nodded, turning to splash in the water as I grabbed my towel from the pool’s edge. I gently patted the excess water off my bathing suit and drippy hair. Wrapping the towel around my body, I nervously strode over to the large table. That summer, I was a counselor in training (CIT) at the Athenian School Summer Camp. It was my eighth summer of camp, as I had been a CIT for the past five years and was a camper for the three years before. As a camper, I always envisioned becoming a counselor. Playing games with campers, singing camp songs, and teaching art activities seemed like the perfect job for me. Unfortunately, counselors couldn’t be hired until age sixteen, therefore, when I turned eleven I signed up for the CIT program. At the time, there was no age limit restricting a recently graduated fifth grader from joining the program, so I didn’t even think twice when signing up. I knew that the kids’ ages ranged from thirteen to fifteen, but I was so thrilled to begin the path to a counselor that I didn’t seem to mind; that is until I entered the CIT room on the first day of camp. I felt very out of place surrounded by the twenty other CITs who were much older than …show more content…
Nathan, the CIT director, had us introduce ourselves with our name and age; everyone stared at me in bewilderment as the number eleven flew off my tongue. The rest of that summer was spent constantly trying to fit in with the older CITs, and when that didn’t work, hanging out with the campers as much as possible. Due to my ever-growing presence around the campers, I was often nominated for CIT of the week. The kids could tell I genuinely cared about them and the camp. I wasn’t playing on my phone, flirting with my peers, or trying to maintain a “cool” façade like my CIT peers. Now, fifteen and in my fifth year of the CIT program, I had reached the final summer before applying as a counselor position the following year. I was the oldest CIT, and now treated as an equal and a role model. I was 100% devoted to ensure the campers had a fantastic day and on our weekly field trips, I was assigned my own group of kids instead of having to shadow a counselor and their group. So, as I sat down at the table, I was unsure what I had done incorrectly. I began to quickly scan my memory of anything un-counselor scenario I had committed. Sweat began to line my forehead, and my foot started tapping as I wondered why the directors had called me
Davie nodded, turning to splash in the water as I grabbed my towel from the pool’s edge. I gently patted the excess water off my bathing suit and drippy hair. Wrapping the towel around my body, I nervously strode over to the large table. That summer, I was a counselor in training (CIT) at the Athenian School Summer Camp. It was my eighth summer of camp, as I had been a CIT for the past five years and was a camper for the three years before. As a camper, I always envisioned becoming a counselor. Playing games with campers, singing camp songs, and teaching art activities seemed like the perfect job for me. Unfortunately, counselors couldn’t be hired until age sixteen, therefore, when I turned eleven I signed up for the CIT program. At the time, there was no age limit restricting a recently graduated fifth grader from joining the program, so I didn’t even think twice when signing up. I knew that the kids’ ages ranged from thirteen to fifteen, but I was so thrilled to begin the path to a counselor that I didn’t seem to mind; that is until I entered the CIT room on the first day of camp. I felt very out of place surrounded by the twenty other CITs who were much older than …show more content…
Nathan, the CIT director, had us introduce ourselves with our name and age; everyone stared at me in bewilderment as the number eleven flew off my tongue. The rest of that summer was spent constantly trying to fit in with the older CITs, and when that didn’t work, hanging out with the campers as much as possible. Due to my ever-growing presence around the campers, I was often nominated for CIT of the week. The kids could tell I genuinely cared about them and the camp. I wasn’t playing on my phone, flirting with my peers, or trying to maintain a “cool” façade like my CIT peers. Now, fifteen and in my fifth year of the CIT program, I had reached the final summer before applying as a counselor position the following year. I was the oldest CIT, and now treated as an equal and a role model. I was 100% devoted to ensure the campers had a fantastic day and on our weekly field trips, I was assigned my own group of kids instead of having to shadow a counselor and their group. So, as I sat down at the table, I was unsure what I had done incorrectly. I began to quickly scan my memory of anything un-counselor scenario I had committed. Sweat began to line my forehead, and my foot started tapping as I wondered why the directors had called me