Camp Life

by Lucinda Maison

  “Yes,” Shelley commented, continuing to look at Corinne. Caroline wanted to say something to fill the silence, but something kept her still, waiting.

  “I don’t want to do this,” Corinne said suddenly, with something of her old speed and forcefulness. “See you later.” She jumped up and marched off without another word or look, orange and purple tie-dyed scarf trailing behind her.

  Caroline watched her go, mouth hanging open, then asked of no one in particular, “Will someone please tell me what just happened?” She stared up at Shelley then, and said in a bewildered tone, “All we did was sit here for a minute with each other. What’s the big deal?”

  With a rueful smile, Shelley sat down in Corinne’s vacated chair. “While you sat there for that minute, doing nothing else, one of the things you thought of was your brother and what he calls you. Is that right?”

  Caroline nodded. Shelley asked her, “What do you think came up for Corinne while she was sitting here?”

  “I don’t know,” admitted Caroline. “Haven’t a clue.”

  “Neither do I. It may have been nothing or it may have been something painful for her to look at, so painful she physically left the room, physically “gone”. I hope she comes back again.”

  “If it’s painful, why should she have to remember it? Wouldn’t it be better to just forget it?” Caroline asked.

  Shelley smiled. “The trouble is, we don’t really forget it, we just stuff it somewhere and use a lot of energy keeping it stuffed. If you are willing to un-stuff it, to bring it out and look at it, whatever it is, that can free up the energy you were using to keep it hidden. Then you can use that energy for something you really want.”

  “I’ll come back and be your partner for the rest of the session, as soon as I have a word with Lauren. Have you met her, yet?” Shelley asked, inclining her head toward a petite black woman standing in the archway leading to the camp office.

  Caroline shook her head. Shelley waved to get the woman’s attention and beckoned her over. Lauren strolled over to Caroline’s chair, offering her hand and an infectious grin that bared startlingly white teeth. Caroline smiled in return and shook hands. Shelley took Lauren by the arm and told Caroline she’d be back in a minute. Caroline watched the two of them hold a quiet conversation, then Lauren headed out the door in the same direction Corinne had taken.

  Caroline spent the next couple of minutes planning what she’d say to Drew about calling her “Dork”. She’d just rejected the third scenario when Shelley returned and sat down opposite her.

  “I have a copy of the paper Noreen passed out,” Shelley said, handing it to Caroline. If you read the first few sentences, it will tell you what we need to do next. Are you ready?”

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t know that I’d be any more ready with more time,” Caroline replied candidly.

  Shelley laughed softly and patted Caroline’s shoulder. “Good girl! Why don’t you read out loud for the both of us, OK?”

  Build up: To increase or strengthen by adding gradually to; To bolster (American Heritage Dictionary)

  Bolster: To support or strengthen (Collins Essential English Dictionary)

  Put down: To belittle

  Belittle: To represent or speak of as contemptibly small or unimportant; To cause to seem less than another or little (American Heritage Dictionary); To treat as having little value or importance (Collins Essential English Dictionary)

  “The purpose of this exercise is to let each person experience what it’s like to build up or cut down something or someone and to be built up or put down by another person; after participating in this exercise, each person should be able to recognize something that “builds up” versus something that “puts down”.

  When she finished reading, Caroline looked up, puzzled. “I understand what the words mean,” she said hesitantly, “...I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

  Shelley nodded and motioned toward Noreen. “I think Noreen is getting ready to explain it for us.”

  Caroline tuned in to Noreen’s voice. “This may seem like a no-brainer to you all. I doubt there is anyone in this room who hasn’t consciously or unconsciously said or did something that built someone up and also something that put someone down. What we’d like you to do is practice this consciously. Pay attention to your intention when you speak, and to the other person’s intention when he or she speaks to you.”

  “If everybody clearly understands the meanings of these words, then we’re ready to move on to the next step. Pick which of you will talk and which will listen, then we’ll switch roles later. Shelley, would you come up here for a minute and help me demonstrate for them?”

  Shelley got up and moved to the front of the room and she and Noreen faced each other. Noreen pointed at Shelley, who nodded back, then said “Noreen, I asked you to bring my sunglasses back today. You forgot them again, didn’t you? Can’t you remember anything?”

  Instead of looking hurt or offended, Noreen merely nodded. She turned to the group of kids and asked “Does this sound familiar to anyone? Has anyone experienced something similar to this?”

  Patrick put his hand up and gave a little wave. “Sounds like my English teacher. I didn’t like English and I kept forgetting to bring my worksheets to class. She got pis...I mean, real mad at me.”

  The other kids laughed, and Sean lifted an eyebrow and shook his head. Noreen thanked him. “If you look at the definitions of “build up” and “put down” again, which do you think describes Shelley’s intention toward me?” she asked.

  “It’s a put-down,” Patrick shot back, with one side of his mouth quirked up. “Definitely a put-down moment.”

  Shelley and Noreen both nodded.

  “Does everyone see it that way?” Noreen asked. Heads bobbed up and down in response and she continued. “I’d like one person in each pair to say something to your partner that is, as Patrick so rightly put it, “a put-down moment”, and notice what that feels like. Then switch roles and let the other person make a “put-down” statement. Does that make sense to everyone?”

  Heads nodded again and people turned back to their partners. Shelley returned to sit with Caroline, and Noreen walked around the room, stopping occasionally to talk with someone here and there, before making her way back to the front of the room.

  Voices gradually faded. Noreen asked if someone wanted to share his or her experience of the exercise. Sean raised his hand. “I think Patrick is way too into this put-down thing,” he complained. Everyone laughed and the guy sitting behind Patrick gave his shoulder a friendly shove. Patrick smiled modestly and shrugged.

  “So, what happened, Sean?” Noreen asked, a smile in her voice.

  “Patrick told me he understood why I had a hard time shooting from the foul line in basketball. He said he used to have the same trouble...when he was in Second grade.”

  He ended by glaring at Patrick, and the whole room was laughing and grinning.

  Noreen looked at Patrick with her eyes very wide. “You really are good at this!” she said. “Let’s turn things around and have the listeners become the talkers.”

  Sean eagerly swung back around to face Patrick, who straightened and cleared his throat. “Bring it on,” he said through tight lips. Sean recognized Cuzco’s voice from The Emperor’s Groove, and smiled in spite of himself.

  Noreen gave them some time, wandering around the room again, then called for quiet with a raised hand. She pointed at Sean and asked him to describe how he felt after each of the exercises.

  “Well, I had more fun with the second part, that’s for sure!” he laughed. People smiled in return, and Noreen looked at him encouragingly. “I’m used to Patrick being insulting,” he continued, “so that wasn’t really a big deal..I mean, I don’t like it, but it’s nothing new. When we switched, at first I was glad because I figured it was sweet payback time, but then I started thinking I just wanted to come up with something so that he’d feel like I feel when he cuts
me down.”

  “It worked,” said Patrick shortly.

  Sean looked at him, surprised.

  “I got it, dude. It didn’t feel any better than when Ms. Carlisle reams me for forgetting my stuff in English,” he added. “Actually, worse.”

  Noreen thanked them and gazed around the room. “Anyone else have anything they want to say?”

  A few hands went up and several told what it was like for them, and then Noreen asked their partners to do the same.

  “Does anyone notice a common theme in all this?” she asked. She chose a pretty girl with dark, wavy hair in the front of the room.

  The girl put her hand down and said in a soft voice, “It’s like we all put people down, but we don’t even realize we’re doing it or we don’t think about how the other person feels, even though we know how we feel when someone does it to us.”

  Heads bobbed in agreement. Caroline raised her hand, and when Noreen pointed at her, said, “A lot of times people are trying to be funny, except it’s not really funny. It...hurts.”

  “Yes. People are usually pretty good at getting the meaning, the intention, behind the message, however much the message is...is spun to make it seem like something harmless.”

  “Now, we’re going to flip things around and practice “building up”. Shelley, do you want to come help me demonstrate this?” She faced Shelley and told her that she loved working with her, that Shelley’s insight and good humor made her life better every day.

  “Wow!” Shelley exclaimed when Noreen had finished. “Thank you.” She turned to the group of kids. “That was so nice to hear! Do you see how something like that adds to the person instead of taking away?”

  “No one has any questions? OK, decide on a talker and a listener and go ahead whenever you’re ready,” Noreen told them.

  Shelley walked back across the room to sit with Caroline, as the room hummed with conversation. The tone was fairly low at first, but after a few minutes, the hum was punctuated with bursts of laughter, noises of disbelief, hoots, and chairs creaking as their occupants rocked and swayed. It went on for some time before Noreen called for quiet once more. She picked a few people to share their experiences, and it was evident that they had an even better time “building up” than “putting down”, and had a good understanding of the difference.

  “There’s something else I’d like to add about this whole process. She looked around the room, her eyes settling on Patrick for a moment. “If “putting down” is taking away or detracting from a person, then it follows that “building up” someone means adding to that person. When somebody says something hurtful to you, betrays you, cuts you down, you may feel smaller and closed in on yourself. When somebody says something that adds to your understanding, acknowledges your accomplishments, praises your actions, shows that they enjoy you for yourself...you may notice that you feel bigger, happier, easier inside your own skin. Let’s do one final exercise and then we’ll call it good for this session. Pick one thing about your partner that you can use to genuinely “build up” and take turns telling the other person. When you are the talker, make sure you communicate your item clearly; listeners, be sure to acknowledge the talker so he or she knows you fully understood what was said. When you’ve finished, you can get up quietly and leave the room. You guys did a great job, today. Thank you for doing this!” She smiled at everyone in general, and walked to the back of the room.

  The room filled with sound again as they took turns building up each other. Laughter rang out, and more and more faces wore relaxed, happy grins.

  Some of the kids filed out of the lodge in groups of two or three, both Sean and Patrick went to forage in the kitchen, and Caroline stopped just outside, glancing around for Corinne. She didn’t see her anywhere, or Lauren, for that matter. Despite not finding her quarry, Caroline walked briskly down the hill, a small smile lifting a corner of her mouth.

  Chapter 12

  Win-Win

  Jake lay on his back in the narrow bunk, listening to the quiet cabin. His bunkmates had all lit out early, couldn’t wait to go make lanyards or something, he thought with scorn. He sort of liked the quiet, no one bugging him to get ready for school or feed the dog or go outside and get fresh air. What was the deal with getting fresh air, anyway? Jake closed his eyes with a sigh, thinking he might go back to sleep until about noon. After 2 minutes, his eyes popped open and he realized with disgust that he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, scrubbing a hand through his unruly dark hair. Maybe he should go check out the horses. They didn’t talk and they might be better company than the other kids at this stupid camp. His stomach growled with startling force. First, he’d go raid the kitchen.

  “Put the pad a little in front of his withers, where his neck starts, then pull it down onto his back,” Ron said to a very short girl with a very long red braid down her back. She reached up high to get the pad over the horse’s back, going up on tiptoes, but managed to do as Ron had instructed.

  “Good, Sarah! You want the hair under the pad to lay down smooth the right way, not roughed up backwards. For a minute there, I thought we’d have to get you a bale of hay to stand on, or maybe a pony instead of this big boy.” He put an affectionate hand on the gelding’s shoulder.

  The girl grinned as she gazed up admiringly at Nate, a 16-hand appaloosa with some thoroughbred in his history somewhere. She picked up a few wisps of alfalfa and held them under his soft muzzle. He sniffed carefully, then his upper lipped reached out to sweep the alfalfa from her palm with the softest touch. Sarah laughed at the tickling sensation, then stood back to allow Ron to put the saddle on for her. That was the deal, he’d said; she would curry and brush Nate and do the saddle pad, Ron would lift up the heavy Western saddle.

  Sarah drew circles with her finger around the white silver dollar spots covering Nate’s chestnut rump, at least, those she could reach. She looked at his stumpy tail and asked the question that came to mind. “Ron, what happened to Nate’s tail? Did it get cut off or something?”

  Drawing the leather strap through the cinch ring, Ron glanced back at Nate’s tail with a smile. “No, his tail is just naturally on the skimpy side. It’s an appy thing, like his striped hooves and the spots.”

  Sarah came around to stand at his head again, petting his long nose, and telling him it didn’t matter, there were more important things than having a long, flowing tail. One large brown eye swiveled in her direction before he snorted, generously spraying her with bits of green goo.

  Ron laughed, not unkindly, and pulled a kerchief out of his pocket, handing it to her to wipe her face. She thanked him, looking at Nate reproachfully.

  Unfazed, Nate sighed, unweighted a hip and planted the tip of one hoof in the sand.

  Sarah smiled ruefully, shaking her head before resuming stroking his nose.

  “I’m going to go check on the others. Can you handle getting the bridle on him OK?” Ron asked. “You did just fine with it when I showed you before.”

  “I can do it,” Sarah replied positively, with an adoring look cast at Nate.

  Ron nodded and walked out of the barn, wondering once again what it was about the love affair between girls and horses.

  Jake ambled into the barn from the brilliant sunshine and it took his eyes a minute to adjust. When he spotted the girl with the long braid, he decided to cut and run, but she turned and saw him before he could go out again. She was struggling to get a bridle-thing over this humongous horse’s head, which just wasn’t going to happen since she looked about 4 foot 2.

  Her eyes lit up when she saw Jake, and, hands full of horse and leather, she motioned him over with her chin. “Hey, I’m so glad you turned up. I thought I could do this, but the time before this he put his head down for me so I could reach.”

  Jake looked uncertainly from her to the horse in silence. Finally, he asked, “What do you want me to do?” eyeing the horse warily.

  “This is Nate
and he’s a big sweetheart, but, well, he’s really big! Would you mind grabbing the halter on his neck and pulling his head down a little?”

  Jake didn’t move, just stood about a foot from Nate’s head, taking in the size of him, becoming more aware of the warm, rich smells of horse, horse dung, alfalfa, dust, and leather. He hadn’t been around horses much, and when he had, they’d been a lot smaller than this one. “Couldn’t they have found you a bigger one?” he said, stepping up to Nate and gingerly taking hold of the halter that was looped around his neck. He pulled down gently and was vaguely surprised when Nate agreed to lower his head.

  Sarah slipped the bridle over his ears, checked to make sure the bit was in the right place, like Ron showed her, and buckled the cheek strap. “Thanks!” she said with a satisfied smile, turning more fully to face him. “I’m Sarah. Are you going riding with us, too?”

  He opened his mouth to reply when Ron strode back into the barn. Crossing his arms, he shut his mouth again and didn’t bother answering Sarah.

  “Hey, Jake, are you coming with us?” Ron asked.

  “I guess,” Jake mumbled back.

  “Have you spent much time riding horses before?”

  “Once,” he replied, eyes on the sandy floor of the barn.

  Ron glanced at Sarah and Nate. Sarah was watching Jake with a small, puzzled frown. Nate was apparently asleep on his feet.

  “No problems with the bridle, I see,” Ron noted. “Jake, I think I’ve got the perfect horse for you. Come on over here and meet Squidward.” He walked away, talking as he went. “And I don’t want to hear any comments about his name. I didn’t choose it, I didn’t agree with it, but it wasn’t up to me...” He shook his head in disgust, muttering something under his breath that sounded like “not a damn octopus”.

  Jake was struggling not to smile and when his eyes met Sarah’s, he saw she was in the same boat. Her frown had disappeared and she had a hand over her mouth, but Jake noticed two large dimples high up on her cheeks.

  They followed Ron a couple of stalls down and looked in at a blue roan gelding, a hand or so shorter than Nate, his extravagant, shiny black tail nearly brushing the floor. “Hey, Squid,” Ron called, “turn around and show us your best side.”