Freedom is summer at camp
The Big Dipper Image by iStock
Here’s how the day typically goes:
I wake up and sprint out of bed, which is unusual for me. I then rush through breakfast. My stomach is in knots. I have very little appetite. It’s late June or early July. Most of the time, there’s a heat wave and the air is as thick as a pile of blankets on top of you in the winter. But if we’re lucky, it’s a comfortable 80 degrees. The sky brings out something I think of as mother nature’s ribs as strips of clouds fill the morning skyline. Even if It’s hot as blazes I’m not complaining. I shove all my luggage and possessions into the car until there’s barely enough room for my tiny self and I close the door. The car leather is hot from the sun’s reflection and my sweaty legs stick to it like a summer popsicle on my tongue. My dad turns the car on and starts driving. I open the window and the country wind blows my hair softly as I drift off into the scenic route. The green trees and flowers are in full bloom and nature really screams “it’s summer!” I’m on my way to freedom.
Contestant: Sasha Leitner is a 7th grader at the Institute for Collaborative Education in New York. Image by Courtesy of Sasha Leitner
After what seems like hours, we finally get to Great Barrington, MA. I’m constantly checking the GPS for how many minutes and miles until we are there while also texting my friends.
“I can’t wait!”
“This is going to be the Best.Summer.Ever TM.”
“I missed you so much, can’t wait to see you!”
I feel myself rising off the seat and start shrieking because I see the sign for “Camp Eisner.” I get out my phone as my dad opens the car’s sunroof and I stick half my body out the car, soaking in the familiar taste and smell of freedom. There’s a calm breeze slowly flowing through my hair. I record all the counselors shouting “Welcome to camp” as they wave signs, and I smile at people I know. I have arrived at the place where I am free to be my truest self.
We settle in and file into the big gym where my excitement for camp fades slightly as it is fever and lice check time. This ritual brings some level of dread and anxiety because my first summer I actually had lice! I hope it doesn’t happen again as that would mean my freedom would be delayed. I munch on a dry but sweet doughnut as I await the all-clear. Then it’s onto finding out my bunk assignment. More anxiety and nerves! What happens if I’m not with my friends? What happens if I don’t know anyone? Major butterflies in my stomach as I tell the staff my name and they announce my bunk number. I ask if my best friends are in that bunk and inevitably the butterflies fly away. Thank God I’m with them! We drive up to the bunk as I help my parents unpack the car. This cannot happen quickly enough! I cannot wait to be rid of them (in a loving way of course!) so I can let the sense of freedom wash over me.
I’m in my happy place. It’s the place that signifies my idea of carefree abandonment. During the summer at camp, I can let down my guard, do away with all pretenses and truly be myself. I can let go of the things that hold me back, the school dynamics and obligations and the workload. Hebrew School, Bat Mitzvah prep, dance class, friend group drama; the planning and scheduling and organizing and commuting and studying. In an instant they’re all gone and I am free to choose how to spend my days and I can try new things and expand my horizons. I am free to be me and I like the me that I can be. From waking up everyday to different music (even if I hate the song it brings joy knowing it’s your bunk’s song), to going to meals together and laughing while singing songs and cheers, then going to different activities to make new friends and try new skills that you can brag to your home friends about – that’s a special kind of freedom. Time moves differently at camp. The days are long but they pass quickly and every waking minute feels fulfilling.
The best time of day is actually at night. We bring sleeping bags to the tennis courts, wearing flannels and hoodies and Crocs, thinking it would be cold outside because the sun is gone but feeling the warmth of the pavement as we look up at the expansive sky, where we cannot see its beginning or end. Israeli counselors talk to us about different constellations and about trying to find the common ones, such as the Big Dipper. Moments seem suspended in time and voices fade as we make memories, like catching a glimpse of a shooting star and talking about it to other bunks who can only wish they were there to witness it. We are looking up at the stars and living in the moment, just as the stars seem to do. I do not have a care in the world and there’s no place to be but right here. Everything is in its place, everything has its purpose.
Moments like that one, or dancing in the dance studio or playing late night hockey, or tag or just playing music quietly and jumping around, that is what freedom means to me; it may not be free in terms of cost but it’s certainly free in its possibilities, which makes it priceless. Being with your best friends, having unforgettable experiences, feeling unburdened and having endless possibilities… that’s what I think freedom is about; the ability to let go of everyday responsibilities and truly be yourself. It is a freedom I do not take for granted.
Sasha Leitner is a 12-year-old student attending 7th grade at the Institute for Collaborative Education in New York.
A message from our CEO & publisher Rachel Fishman Feddersen
I hope you appreciated this article. Before you go, I’d like to ask you to please support the Forward’s award-winning, nonprofit journalism during this critical time.
At a time when other newsrooms are closing or cutting back, the Forward has removed its paywall and invested additional resources to report on the ground from Israel and around the U.S. on the impact of the war, rising antisemitism and polarized discourse.
Readers like you make it all possible. Support our work by becoming a Forward Member and connect with our journalism and your community.
— Rachel Fishman Feddersen, Publisher and CEO
