Bold. Italics. Underline. Underscore.: GO Mississippi Day 7, Part 2

**Continuing from yesterday's post.

The last day at the waterway was similar to the prior day. There was a lot of tossing the ball and a lot of boys making diving catches, continuously mesmerized at their own incredible skill. I again wore a t-shirt (the same one, so as to not ruin another) while I was in the water. One thing to note about the waterway is the temperature of the water. It was in the upper 90s all week, and with the humidity, it was always "feeling" over 100. The water, then, was at it's coolest like a heated pool and at times just down right hot. It was very strange, and with pockets all over the place, a person could shift between the two extremes in seconds.

The trip back from the waterway was incredibly entertaining. A lot of the boys were Hispanic and Tim had taken 4 years of Spanish and is able to keep up about half of the time. The back and forth banter between him and the boys was hilarious. He would teach them phrases that he liked in English, having them explain how to say it properly in Spanish. And they would do the reverse. It was actually really nice to see him engaging them in another language and they really seemed to appreciate it as well.

Back at the camp we met a man who looked to be in his 30s. Father Tim told us, as we exited the bus with the man standing there, that he was a Fordham grad and has been helping at Glenmary for awhile. I thought it was cool to see someone still actively involved and was happy to have him there. We headed back to the dorms for showers and prepping for dinner. After dinner was the dance, and so the boys had a field say with some Axe spray, and it didn't take long before the place smelled like the inside of Hollister.

The boy who had had a few melt downs in the past 24 hours came up to me while everyone was showering and such and told me that another boy was crying. One of the staff members had her son at the camp. She would come every day to help and leave. This was his first year at the camp and so he was one of the younger boys. She had left for the day and, even though this happened every day, he was incredibly upset. He was lying in the corner of his bed, as far from everyone as he could be, with his face down in the pillow crying. I sat on the bed and asked him what was wrong. He told me he was ready to go home and wanted his mom to come back and pick him up. I hadn't seen him look anything but enthusiastic all week and was really surprised. Then, after some talking I found out the real reason for this sudden change. The. Dance.

The boy was on the younger side, as I said, and was incredibly pressured and upset over the whole asking someone to the dance, dancing with girls, etc. This was bothering him so much that with the dance only hours away, he couldn't take it and wanted to just skip the end of camp and head home. I can totally sympathize. As someone who is not terribly out going and someone who does not like to dance, I can remember how terrified I was of school dances as a kid. I told him that I hate dances too, that I did not have a date to the dance, and that I was not going to dance. I promised him that I had my camera and wanted to take pictures at the dance and that was all. If he could help me out, he could come to the dance and take the pictures with me and he wouldn't have to worry about dancing with anyone or having a date. It was a deal.

I got my camera together, gave the boys a 10 minute warning and walked out front. Next thing you know it, Fordham-Alum-Guy is taking over. He walks in and tells the boys they have 2 minutes to be out front. Further, anyone who is already done should be outside. We do this, too. It gets really hot in the dorm with the showers running, the heat outside, and then everyone running around. We usually get the boys to come outside and toss the ball around or play frisbee. I was still a bit thrown off that he would disregard what I had just said, without even saying a word to me, and take over in the dorm. We got the boys outside and I started taking some pictures, watching the current chess battle, etc. Next thing you know, I see a commotion. It turns out, some of the boys were off to the side and were throwing stones into the woods. Nearby is the line where the boys hang their bathing suits and towels. Someone, unfortunately, threw a stone and it hit a camper in the head. It was bad enough that he started bleeding and had to be brought into the nurse. Father Tim came over and yelled at the boys saying that they should know better. He had the ones who admitted to throwing the rocks (no one fessed up to being the one who hit the other boy) stand there outside the nurse's office and apologize to the injured camper.

It was time for dinner and I was upset. Things had been going so well, but ultimately, it is the counselors job to watch the kids. One of us should have noticed the rock throwing and in our lapse, someone got hurt. The boy was fine afterwards, and needed no real bandaging to stop the bleeding. It was still a black mark on the week, one that Patti made sure I knew. As we walked into the dining hall, I casually asked her how she was doing. She responded in a noticeable tone with "I was doing a lot better before this all happened." As if I didn't already feel guilty.

Dinner was pretty normal, the boy returned to his table, and we had our awards ceremony. As Patti began explaining the ceremony she mentioned that our counselors would be making remarks about each kid. So apparently we were not only awarding the kids with awards we made up but we also needed to comment on them. This is not hard but a little heads up (like the skit night) would have been nice. We got through the award ceremony and headed back to the dorms to pack. All of the kids were given time to make sure everything, after coming back from the waterway and showering, was away. All they were to have out was the sheets on their beds, and something to wear home tomorrow.

Fordham-Alum-Guy decided he wanted to really show me why I should not like him. He walked into the dorm and told the kids that they had 5 minutes to be ready. Now, he has no right to be going over us like this and giving them orders. He is there a day early so that, on our last night, he can take dorm duty while the counselors can hang out without the responsibility of having people stationed at the dorm. He has decided to run things his way from the moment he gets there and undermines all of the counselors there, including Zach, the local guy who has been at this camp since he was old enough to go there.

He tells the boys that once they are done to go outside, stand in a line shoulder to shoulder, and not talk. They are not being respectful and they need to be more obedient. I walked out front. All week long this was the sight of fun downtime. We had time to kill and so there was frisbee going and chess and stratego, kids would just be sitting in circles chatting, etc. Like Patti had done with the bonfire, this guy had sucked the fun out of things. It felt like school. The boys were silent, in a line, motionless. He stood in front of them with his hands behind his back, like a drill sergeant and continued to scold them. I had enough. I went to Zach, who had seen this guy before, and voiced my opinion. I explained that what we had worked, and that we know these boys, we've been with them all week, and we have our way of running things. This guy walks in and is supposed to be doing us a favor, and instead has completely replaced us and disregarded that we even exist. Zach, surprisingly, was in total agreement. I expected him to side with the guy, saying that we were too relaxed, or that this guy knows what works because he comes here every year. Instead he said the guy is a total ass and he has totally crossed a line here. He talked to Father Tim later that night, I was told, and the Fordham-Alum-Guy, got an ear full. For the most part, he stayed out of the way the rest of the night.

It was time for the dance. I walked in with my camera, and the boy who was nervous about the dance came right up and told me, "we are not here to dance. we are taking pictures, and thats it, ok?" I agreed, telling him that I would not leave him sitting here and we'd just hang out all night. He was on the dance floor before the first song ended. One of the female CITs grabbed his hand and that was the last time I saw him sitting. He was up and into the dance the rest of the night. I was thrilled. For the most part, all of the kids were too. After about 40 minutes of picture taking and wandering, I handed my camera to Zach and joined in. It just looked like too much fun, and I didn't care if I looked like an idiot or not. As with any activity here, we had a water break during the dance. I found that amusing. There were one or two slower paced songs and a few of the boys made good on having dates and did their best at slow dancing. They stayed about 3 feet from their date and rocked back and forth in place. It was awkward and cute and exactly what you would expect from 10 and 11 year olds.

The dance was exhausting and at the end of it all everyone was sweating. Patti had everyone sit and she explained how the next morning would go. We had our closing and it was off to the dorms. All the boys got ready for bed and soon enough, Fordham-Alum-Guy showed up to relieve us. Earlier I had expressed to Zach that we wouldn't even need him. That I wanted to hang out at the dorm that night because the next morning would be a blur and then we'd all part ways. I would get to go back with and spend time with my co-counselors after this but not the kids, so why not spend my last night with them instead. I really wanted to get one more shot at reading Pinocchio. Unfortunately, by the time we had our closing meeting with Patti and Father Tim, went through how the next day would be, expressed to them our gratitude for their incredible hospitality, and so on, it was late. I hung out for a bit but started dozing at the table. I knew people would be hanging out for a bit on their last night. They may even walk to the overlook, but I was too tired. I walked back to the dorm, but Fordham-Alum-Guy had worked his stern magic. The dorm was silent.

I set my alarm a little bit earlier for the next day. We would have to be on the road by 8 am and needed to have the kids at the pavilion by 7:30. As such, I was getting up at 6:15 (instead of 6:30) to make sure I was all ready to go so that I wasn't scrambling to pack and fill the car when I needed to be helping the kids get their things over to the pavilion. I walked around the dorm for a bit, thinking about the week, the first time I had walked through there, the first night, and so many other events during the week. I laid down and felt really upset. I knew that this may be the last time I spend the night here, come to this place, see any of these people, and so on. It had only been a week and yet it felt like I had been there for months. I dreaded the work day, the technology, the responsibilities back home, and so on. I wanted to wake everyone up and hang out and just try to put tomorrow off a little bit longer.

The next thing I knew, my alarm was going off. Time to go home.