Let's start with that internship. After a glance over my last post, I've found that on the last update I had only just received my first list of preparational tasks for the job. Later that month, I found out that the camp director from last year, the one who did my interview and who I had been communicating with, was no longer able to be camp director, and the role was being passed along to another person, who I will nickname Karen. Karen called me near the end of June to talk details for the job, and informed me of a detail which she thought that the previous camp director had told me: I had to be on-location for the entire two months of summer, not just the three weeks for counsellor training and camp itself. It was something I knew was a possibility, but had been told was not likely to happen.
This sparked a one week panicked rush to get together everything I would need not just for camp but for an entire month and a half living on my own in an apartment paid for by the camp. One week later and I was on a flight to stay in the small town where the director of the camp's board lived. The director of the camp's board will be here on out referred to as Teddy.
In retrospect, I'm very glad that I had this wonderful opportunity to live on my own as a sort of trial run. It gave me a lot of insight into my own routines and lifestyle which I would never have gained otherwise, and brought me a massive confidence boost, finding that I did not crash and fail as I thought I would when tasked with taking care of myself. At the time, however, it was a not-entirely-appreciated shock to my system which left me grumbling about the strong lack of communication.
The apartment afforded to me by the camp was a basement apartment usually rented out as an AirBNB, which belonged to a friend of Teddy's, much like just about everything else in the town, because this was a very small town (think population ~1200). The apartment was very cozy and stocked with all of the means needed to live comfortably; the only thing I had to do was fill the fridge with food and provide my own toiletries (but even then, they supplied towels). It was a little chilly given that it was a basement apartment, but I didn't mind since the summer heat was particularly unbearable some days.
The job itself was a lot of paperwork and answering emails, but I found it extremely gratifying, especially when camp came and I got to see all of my hard work come together. My primary tasks were arranging camper travel, confirming camper registrations, and assuring that all supplies were in order.
There was one task I did not foresee having, and that was attempting to find an interpreter for a person in our Leaders in Training program. This should have been done as soon as the previous camp director knew there would be a fucking deafblind camper attending this program, but nope, she didn't arrange anything, and gave Karen a very fuzzy explanation that left her thinking the person they would need to book an interpreter for was a workshop presenter, not a camper. This lead to me sending a great many emails in search of someone who would be available for the whole two weeks (despite this not being my job; I just wanted 100% assurance that the most possible was being done to make arrangements). This of course ended in failure because fucking nobody can leave their home for two full weeks on such short notice, and we would have needed two interpreters for such a large job.
What followed was an accessibility disaster. When we reached the beginning of August without any more options for finding an interpreter, the task was taken out of my hands. Up until that point I was the only person in communication with this camper, but Karen thanked me for my hard work and said that now she had to step in. Karen ended up teaming up with the Leaders in Training program director, here on out referred to as Dana, to get Dana's sister to come and assist this camper, because Dana's sister had experience with camp accessibility and knew some sign language and could do hand-over-hand interpreting as well. Long story short, that also fell though. In the end, Dana's partner in running the leadership program expressed that he felt it was "unsafe" for this camper to go on the LIT weekend out-trip (off-site tent camping trip) without an assistant of some sort (fucking gag me with that ableist bullshit). This camper was essentially told they could either participate in the LIT program and not go on the out-trip, or stay only for the first week as a "guest" because they had surpassed the age limit of our older group by a year. They chose to come as a guest.
Continuing the disasters: the accessibility means set up by the camp also fell the fuck apart because there was no one person tasked with making sure that all accessibility means were in place. We were able to borrow an iPad for the week (belonging to a friend of Teddy's I believe) so we could type for them, but the actual typing was only done half of the time. It was on a volunteer basis and was very poorly organized.
The camper was very fucking salty about it, and rightfully so. The whole ordeal was a train wreck and I'm wholly embarrassed to think I was even a part of it, especially as a fellow disabled person and someone who identifies as a disability activist.
Speaking of train wrecks! Let's jump back in time a little, to the beginning of counsellor training week.
The weekend before, Karen, Dana, and the camp's program director, here on out referred to as Rock, arrived in the little town I'd been staying in for the past month. It seemed we were all getting along swimmingly, until the further we got into camp happenings, the more the boat rocked.
As I would soon find out, Karen and Dana did not get on very well, in the sense that Karen was hyper-critical of Dana's every move (and vocally so), despite a mask of friendliness. I didn't know at the time but speaking with Dana later I would find that this behaviour had been present in all of their communications before camp as well. The further we got into training week, the more apparent this vitriol became.
This vitriol was not just expressed in Dana's direction. The counsellors arrived that Monday and training week began. Much as Karen tried to put on a friendly face, when any of the counsellors opposed her policy changes (the largest point of contention being the changes in the camp's smoking policies) they were met with a sharp tone and essentially were told to stay in their lane and that policies were her job, not theirs. She was hardly present at counsellor training (mostly from running around trying to gather the remaining supplies) and failed to build a positive relationship with the counsellors before camp arrived.
As the first day of our first week of camp drew closer, it was easy to tell that her stress was mounting and she wasn't handling it well. On the weekend capping training week and leading into the first week of camp, she flew home for a day and flew back with the campers on Sunday because she needed to get away. That was a very big tell which should have been paid more attention.
Nevertheless, she returned with the campers on Sunday, already stressed from a few pre-flight airport fiascos. She immediately expressed her frustration with how registration had been handled in her absence.
Post-registration, attempting to sort out all of the collected paperwork, it became increasingly clear to me that I had far too many administrative duties to be doubling as a camp counsellor. I was supposed to be with the 17-year-olds and the LITs. I forfeited my counsellorship in lieu of my mounting internship duties. I moved my things out of the cabin and stayed in Dana and Rock's cabin for the week. I was devastated but knew that if I split my commitment, both jobs would be done very poorly, and the campers deserve an infinity better than a half-ass counsellor.
This releasing of my counsellorship meant that I spent all day and most evenings in the camp's office with Karen and Rock. The three rooms in the office were the main room, which had a computer desk I frequented with my laptop, the camp's phone, a couch and some supply storage; the medical room, which held the med cabinet and a rest bed; and the camp director's bedroom, where Karen slept.
There are many ways I could document the following events of the week, but with respect to the other counsellors and Karen herself, I will be slightly less detailed in outlining the events that followed.
Being so constantly in Karen's presence, Rock and I were placed in the very uncomfortable position of being the only two people there that she trusted and she continually ranted to us her frustrations with many things, but especially Dana. This mounted in a tense us-vs.-them feeling, team Karen vs. team Dana, wherein Rock and I appeared to be on team Karen. This perception was false and it impacted my relationships with everyone else on staff. The lack of trust was palpable.
As days passed, Karen's stress continued to build to the point of paranoia, where she no longer felt safe at the camp and regularly expressed that she didn't want to be there. Her relationship with the counsellors worsened as well. The situation climaxed on Wednesday with an extended staff meeting led by Teddy where we all sat in a circle and spoke using "I feel" statements to parse out the situation. At the end of the day, Teddy reached the verdict that it would be best for the camp and for Karen's health if she went home early. Dana and her best friend, one of the counsellors, jointly took over her role as camp director for the remainder of camp.
While I know my accounts of these two major events may make it seem like the whole thing was a fucking shitshow, I assure you it was not. None of the behind-the-scenes stress reached the campers and they had a spectacular week. The camp director switch was seamless. Campers left expressing how much they wanted to come back, even those who had come with much apprehension.
During the second week of camp, our younger group, my administrative duties were much smaller than the week before since I had no more weeks of camp to confirm arrangements for. This meant that I could have a cabin!! I was placed in the oldest cabin of that week, a group of sweet and enthusiastic fourteen-year-olds. Bless those amazing campers, I've got my fingers crossed that I will be seeing all of them again next year!
The second week passed with much less drama than the week before. All of our attention could be focused on the campers, where it fucking should be. The end of the week was tearful as always. Many campers expressed that it had been a life-changing experience for them.
After camp I had roughly one more week to stick around and help close down shop for the season before I flew back home and got to see my family for the first time in two whole months. We talked every day while I was there though, thank fuck for smartphones, Google Hangouts and video chat. Even when camp started, I did a call with my mom every Saturday to catch her up with the hectic weeks.
Being home felt weird. Everything was familiar, there had been no major changes while I was gone, but it felt odd and new too. I couldn't help but think things like "24 hours ago I was packing my bags" for the first two or three days I was home.
I had a week to readjust before I was tossed into the throes of my third year of university.
This term was a little rocky, but I didn't totally crash and burn and I think I came out the other side with decent grades, so I guess that's all that matters in the end. I had a mixed media drawing class (drawing and sculpture), a painting class, an art history course on romantic art and revolutions, and a statistical methods class required for my psychology minor.
This is the first and last time I will need to take two studio courses at once and thank fuck for that. Studio courses require three times as much work outside of class than a regular lecture course. Two at the same time meant I was constantly rushing to finish projects on time and wasn't able to spend as much time on projects as I wanted to. Seeing as my drawing course was on Tuesdays and my painting course was on Thursdays, it meant my painting course often suffered as my attention was always on the nearest deadline. Two of my three paintings were incomplete at the deadline, however my T.A. (an outlandish and enthusiastic artist who spend twelve years of her life touring with punk and noise bands) still gave me good marks, bless her.
My art history course was unremarkable. It came, it went. The most exciting thing about it was that it involved zero tests, only an essay outline, the essay made from that outline, a reading response, a small group presentation, and of course a participation grade. It was the least of my worries.
My statistical methods course gave me a bit of trouble, but I think I came out the other side okay. The first two tests I got low 60s on and the third test I got a low 70. I completed all of the online assignments with roughly a 70 average and I'm feeling pretty confident with my exam so I should be clear to skate on by!
Since the end of term brings us to present day, it's time to dive into what I previously described as my romantic entanglements. They have to do with Rose, as always.
Remember how in my last post, I was waxing poetic about how we just broke up? Well, we got back together at the end of the month, only a few days before I received the news that I would need to fly out for my internship. Four months on, we broke up again at the end of October, I think for good this time.
I'm not much in the mood to recount every fucking reason we broke up. Bad communication, conflicting opinions, flat out lack of communication, a shit load of life circumstances... blah blah blah. It wasn't working and we were both miserable. I used to be able to list everything with clarity but it's all a little fuzzy now, a confusion probably caused by the following events.
When we broke up, we agreed that we definitely wanted to still be friends, because it was really just the relationship context that wasn't working for us, we were still best friends and could talk for hours and debate subjects of interest and laugh at inside jokes. We agreed that to preserve that friendship we would need time, and said that we would not speak to each other for a whole month. We blocked each other on social media and left texting open for emergencies and also because blocking numbers is an annoying process which Telus makes you pay for on your monthly bill (which is fucked up).
They texted me six days later asking if I thought we had made a mistake. I said I don't know, it hasn't been long enough to tell. They said they thought we should be talking about this instead of letting it fester. I said I think the time will give clarity of mind to have the proper discussions and sort out our feelings. They insisted that they really didn't feel that time would help anything and we should really sort our shit out now. I said fucking fine, let's talk. We agreed to twice-weekly check-ins. The result of that was one month later, they ended up sending me a long-winded message which began with them saying they needed to step back from our communications, possibly indefinitely, continued to say that they don't want to talk to me for a while, at least a few weeks, said they needed time to move on, and ended with them thanking me for all the years and wishing me all the best.
I'm just... man, I'm fuckin' mad. I'm mad and flippant at the same time. First of all, holy fuck, what did I say before?? What did I fucking insist on? That it was too soon to talk and that we needed more time. But of fucking course, the insisted we needed to talk ASAP. It didn't feel quite right but fuck, they are a very convincing person.
All of our conversations... for what? For them to essentially break up with me all over again (because that's what it damn well felt like) except this time without the promise of future communications? Or maybe there will be, who the fuck knows. I'll hear from them in a few weeks or maybe never again, only the future will tell!!!!!!!
Fuck these mixed messages. Fuck their yanking me around. And fuck them for waxing poetic about how fucking emotional they are and then announcing on their blog that they have a date soon (a post which I only saw accidentally, but saw nonetheless). Is it possible the date is just a meaningless rebound? Yeah, they went on other dates the other two times we broke up. Can you really blame me for being a little pissed though? It was posted the same day they sent me that long winded message about needing to move on.
That's all there is to say on that matter for now. As the cards lye, they haven't messaged me since then, and that was roughly a week ago (Tumblr chat doesn't timestamp so I don't know exactly).
With that, I suppose we move into looking towards the future.
I am very happy to have this month off. I am going to use it to catch up on a great many personal projects that fell to the wayside because of my workload. I have a list in my phone which includes such exciting things as cleaning my room, going to the dentist, and updating my resume. It's not all menial tasks, though. I also plan to put all of my pins and patches onto a backpack I bought in September, hand-make a bunch of Christmas gifts, and work on a cosplay I started planning in October.
Speaking of my resume, I still don't have a job. I'm glad I didn't get one because my academics would have suffered even more for it. My resume is a fucking mess and has not been edited since I used it to apply for my last job when I was in grade eleven, so it's definitely near the top of my priority list. I am looking for employment come January.
I'm excited about my courses for the next term. I have a sculpture course in foundry, an art history course on gendered representation, a psychology course on personality, and a psychology course on research methods. My schedule is better in the sense that I am only on campus three days a week but worse in the sense that I have two fucking 8:30 AM classes, ugh.
For now, I have no need to worry about absurdly early wake up calls. Yesterday I wrote my last exam, today I decorated the Christmas tree with my mom, and the rest of this month is my oyster. Now is the time to take care of myself and recuperate from five months of non-stop movement. Tomorrow I am planning to paint my nails, and right now, tomorrow is all that matters.
Best wishes and see you next time,
~BookyGirl20~
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