Feminism at Summer Camp

Finding Role Models in Strange Places

By: Suzy Simon

Posted: 4/28/08

Ah, summer camp. The campfires, the sing-a-longs, the feminism. I mean, I'm not the only one who became a feminist while learning to sail and getting mosquito bites, right? Well, I might be.

I attended and now work for the oldest girls' camp in the country. That statement makes the camp sound pretty snooty, and that wouldn't be an unfair assessment. The majority of campers are from the preppiest enclaves of the East Coast: Greenwich, Westchester County, Chevy Chase, the suburbs of Boston. You'd think my camp would be a sea of pinks, blues, topsiders, and ribbon belts-like a J. Crew catalog for eight-to-fifteen year olds. But when I was a camper, I didn't realize I was living among the extremely privileged.

We were only allowed to wear forest green, white, or khaki. This seemed fairly arbitrary then, but now I see how having a uniform eliminated a lot of competition and jealousy about clothes or boys, since we all dressed the same and there were no boys. For girls coming from the intense, awkward drama of middle school, not having to worry about appearance is a huge relief. That lack of competition fosters in these campers a love for each other at an age when most girls could be characters in Mean Girls.

That mutual love for other women was certainly a basis for my future feminism, but what really affected me was the presence of amazing role models. My counselors were phenomenal. They were fearless, funny, and affectionate, and they loved our camp as much as I did. Many of them had been there upwards of eight summers, and they were dedicated to creating a safe, fun environment just like the one they had experienced as campers. They traveled across the country and overseas to be there, to hike and canoe with friends and campers from summers before. These women taught me I could do anything, I could be anyone, and I could change people's lives.

I met one of my most influential role models during my last years as a camper. Rachel Kelly was a new counselor at the time, coming back for her first summer since 1999 to teach swimming. I was one of her dedicated pupils, and I will always remember her teaching me to hone my breast-stroke skills. It wasn't really the specific things she taught me, however, but more the impression she made. That school year she'd been teaching inner-city kids in Boston, and she described the experience in rather depressing terms. It was commendable that she had done this, of course, but what was impressive was that, despite all the sad, difficult things she had seen, she was probably the most upbeat, passionate, and affectionate person I have ever met. While this may not sound like the prototypical feminist role model to most people, as someone who has struggled with depression and been surrounded by depressed females for her entire life, I have to say that Rachel was the ultimate. She was a real person who was happy.

Two summers ago was the first time I got to work alongside Rachel and my role models, and I think that made them even more awe-inspiring. Experiencing first-hand how hard they had to work to create this safe haven for campers amid all the stress made their positivity and humor all the more admirable.

When I first decided to use the term "feminist" to describe myself, I tried really hard to find someone who I could model. I looked to famous figures such as Betty Friedan and Ani DiFranco, but when it came down to it, I didn't need to look far to find people that had all the traits I admired. A feminist role model should just be an everyday woman who accepts herself for who she is, and I found plenty of those at summer camp.