At the beginning of each summer, I get so excited, and — since my descent into adulthood — I get so disappointed at its end.  A textbook example of crazy — doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.  The lesson to be learned is that summer is for kids.  Especially if you are with your children on your vacation.

But I digress.

In less than 2 weeks, I am going to a camp reunion and one of the organizers asked us to write about what we learned at Camp Wingate that has stayed with us through the years.

Community; friendship; respect for nature.  Under these big themes are innumerable ways in which Wingate touched my life and brought out the best in me. But there is one thing in particular that comes to mind.

Every evening, after dinner, we would have Potlatch.  It was a meeting in which all — counselors, campers and guests — gathered for announcements and talk about evening activities.  It was a comforting ritual.  Pearl, the camp director, read out anonymous suggestions from the Suggestion Box.  Most of them were written by the older campers with double-entendres that us younger kids could only pretend to laugh at.  Sometimes there were serious suggestions.  A lot of suggestions started with: “Somebody should stop others from . . . . [picking bark off trees for no reason], [sticking gum under the seats in the dining hall], [leaving the art studio such a mess] or [teasing someone].”

Pearl would say, “whoever wrote this: why don’t YOU be that somebody?”

BE THAT SOMEBODY.  Take control.  You have power to change things.  You have a responsibility to change things. No, don’t look away.  Don’t wait for someone else.

Pearl, the special thing about girls’ camping, is that I learned that I am that somebody.  It means being a bull in china shop sometimes.  And, at 48, I am finally good with that.