Summer is officially over--at least with the return of the Rains in Western WA--and to commemorate my Summer, I have compiled a quick and dirty list of things I learned from working as a camp counselor for 45+ hrs/wk.
1) American football is the official language of American men. I swear to god, the looks on the kids' faces when I told them I don't like football. It was like I'd dashed all of their young hopes. It's not that I can't throw a football or that I can't follow the plays, I just DO NOT LIKE American football. This blasphemous statement was received with the same reaction as if I'd just walked in with a pink catsuit, Which leads me to...
2) Pink was not my friend. Seriously tho. I could be rocking a 'masculine' hat, 'masculine' shoes, 'masculine' jeans and a fly 'masculine' button up and the kids didn't blink an eye. As soon as my pink lunchbox made an apperance, all my 'masculine' credibility was tossed out the back door of a careening Metro bus. I mean, I'm just trying to keep my lunch cold, wtf cares what colour the container is? Oh, wait, all those damn kids. And some grownups too.
3) Basketball is a big f'n deal. Not as big a deal as American football, but still.
4) The Mufasa voice is real. One of the best things about the past few years was when my voice began to drop, and now I have that extra bass when I call a child's name. I could actually get a kid to stop mid-catch and get hit in the face with a football. Not my intent, but I'll take it. :brushes off shoulder:
5) What I had to say is more important than what she had to say. Whether it's repeating exactly what my female co-worker had been saying for the past four weeks or getting one of the stubborn kids to listen when repeating my female co-workers words one time or having my mediocre solution heralded as a solid. Seriously, I didn't get it as tough a time as my female co-workers. I tried not to be a jerk about it.
6) Little boys will followed me around trying to get me to throw balls at them. It didn't matter how many times I said, "No, I don't like to play football," or "I really can't play HORSE right now," I ended up throwing footballs and basketballs at little boys.
7) The more monochromatic your wardrobe, the better. Like seriously, the more black I wore, the more 'manly' and 'masculine' I was. The all-gray ensemble was also very well received.
8) You can interrupt the casual sexism dished out by the older boys. This was a slippery slope for sure, cuz it's not like I was/am immune from sexism. But skipping over the more academic explanations of sexism and settling for, "You do not touch a (young) woman without her permission," is pretty clear for a 10yo.
8) Going into the girls' bathroom will get you on the girls' shit list. It didn't matter that it was my job, it didnn't matter that I had announced my presence, it didn't matter that I'd been doing it for the last six weeks. As soon as I crossed that threshold, it was over. The rancour of the preteen girls was unleashed and it is a mighty and scary thing to behold. Hell hath nothing on the fury of a group of preteen girls getting walked in on lounging by the bathroom sink when we're already late to lunch.
A very educational summer indeed. I have a lot to learn, unlearn, and heaps to try and puzzle through. Hopefully I'll make some headway before I get back onto the field for my Winter as a Boy, coming to a blog near you January 2015....
