highlights from this summer at camp, where I work as a program staff member:
-I come out of my cabin dressed in a button-up and a tie for our weekly fancy dinner. Eight-year-old boy A sees me and says “she looks nice!” Eight-year-old boy B cries out at the top of his lungs, “IT’S A THEY!”
-A very young girl I’d never spoken to approaches me at checkout, hands me what appears to be a piece of abstract origami, and walks away. I unfold one of the flaps to find “peace love pride gay” written inside
-Nonbinary campers are increasingly out and visible, and they notice me (our camp director now mentions me and our other nonbinary staff member when parents call with concerns about their nonbinary kids attending camp). One spends an entire programming hour glued to my side, talking emphatically about their favorite anime while we walk down the beach together. They later present me with a nonbinary flag friendship bracelet. They’re eleven.
-Ten-year-old boy who typically has a great deal of difficulty controlling his impulses and responding appropriately to his emotions asks me suddenly over dinner whether I’m a boy or a girl. I thank him for asking me and tell him I’m not either. He responds, ever-so-chipper, “well, (camp name), I like you just the way you are!”
-Yet another rowdy ten-year-old boy, at the end of his second session at camp of the summer, tells me unprompted at dinner, “you know, (camp name), I’m really glad I came to camp, because you’re the first they/them person I’ve met. I’m sorry if I get it wrong sometimes.”
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