ShoholaBy Anonymous Less than a
week after camp ends, the whole summer feels like I dreamt it. For 9 weeks a
year, we exist in an alternate universe where apparently it’s normal to wear
our underwear outside of our pants and where pink is a normal color of hair.
Not only are our eccentricities accepted but they are rewarded and applauded.
Camp is not
only a community but also a family. We laugh at and with each other. We cry for
and because of one another. Meals, living spaces and work areas are shared. We
get in each other’s faces but also into each other’s blood. This altered state
of consciousness, this other plane of existence, this land
called Shohola.