THE SUMMER OF SUNFLOWER
Me teaching a camper how to fish :)
From camper to counselor—my summers at YMCA Camp Weaver
Nothing beats the smell of summer camp. There’s something about the combination of bug spray, burning firewood, fruit punch, and sunscreen all mingling in the summer heat that just takes you back to a place so nostalgic and familiar. For me, that place was Camp Weaver, a YMCA overnight camp in Greensboro, NC where I spent many summers making lifelong friends and memories.
My earliest memories of Camp Weaver are going to day camp with my younger brother and my cousins from Minnesota. To keep us rowdy kids busy, our parents would drop us off at the Spears YMCA where we would take a bus to camp and spend the entire day there. When we arrived at camp, we would color, play basketball, compete in carpet ball tournaments, and sing camp songs until we were assigned to our groups led by counselors.
Each counselor had a special camp name that the kids would call them, it was like a badge of honor that they proudly wore. Some of my favorite counselors as a kid were Wolverine, Macca, Mocha, Toast, Ferb, Tinkerbell, Prince Ali, Gizmo, Smeagle, Crush, Little Duck, Smoggy, and so many more. They had this way of making the world feel lighter, cracking jokes that made kids howl with laughter and engaging us in games and activities that made each day unforgettable. I looked up to them deeply and always wanted to be their favorite. I would count down the days until I could return to camp, eager to see their faces, and their smiles, and be part of that world again.
Embodying its “I am third” motto (God first, Others second, I am third), Camp Weaver felt like a second home, a place where you could be your truest self. There was something magical about the simplicity of life at camp, where the worries of the outside world faded away. There is one summer in particular that stands out. I must have been around eight years old, and it was the first time I stayed overnight at camp for a whole week. I remember the initial nervousness of being away from home, but as soon as I walked up to the Alamance cabin and met my counselors, I was greeted with the warmest smiles and hugs from my counselors, Rose and Dynamite, and at that moment I knew I was going to be just fine. As the days passed, that fear turned into excitement. I bonded with my cabin mates over late-night whispers and friendship bracelet sessions on the porch during siesta time. There’s something about being out there, under the stars, surrounded by people who quickly turned into a family. We’d wake up at the crack of dawn, sleepy-eyed but ready to tackle the day’s adventures—whether it was kayaking, zip-lining, or simply laughing ourselves breathless at camp skits that the counselors would perform.
At the end of every overnight session, all the cabins would gather at the outdoor amphitheater for the closing campfire, where we sat around the fire reflecting on the week we spent at camp. Head staff awarded the cleanest cabin the legendary golden plunger (a toilet plunger spray-painted gold), announced the honor cabin of the week, and counselors highlighted their honor campers—those who showed growth and good behavior throughout the week. While the awards and honors of the week were celebrated, my favorite part of the closing campfire was always when everyone sang “Country Roads” by John Denver. The counselors would gather on stage, arms wrapped around one another, swaying slowly as they sang. They watched us campers hug, cry, and sing along with our new lifelong friends about country roads that would lead us back to the place we belong—Camp Weaver.
The moment I knew I wanted to be a camp counselor was during the summer of 2020 at my last closing campfire as a CIT (counselor in training). I had spent three long weeks with some of my best friends that I made at camp many years before. Our CIT counselor Gizmo was our fearless leader who trained us to be the next professional role models of camp. He was also the one who gave us all our camp names. I always wanted my camp name to be Sunflower because one of the counselors I had as a young day camper always called me a “happy little sunflower” whenever she saw me. I think it embodied my personality very well.
That next summer, we all returned to camp. But this time it was different. We were the counselors now. As a rising senior in high school, I was nervous about taking care of rowdy kids all summer. But then I remembered how nervous I was when I came to camp for my first overnight week as an eight-year-old, and how the smiles and hugs from the counselors made me feel so much better. I realized that I wanted to be that safe space for a nervous child coming to camp for the first time, I wanted them to look up to me as much as I looked up to my counselors as a camper, I wanted to watch them grow and enjoy their young years at summer camp just like I did. And in that moment, I knew that this summer wasn’t just about guiding them—it was about passing on the magic of camp that had shaped me.
After two weeks of counselor training and deepening bonds with my fellow campers-turned-counselors, the kids finally arrived, their faces lit with eager anticipation for all the adventures camp held for them. Each morning, as they ran up to me with uncontainable joy and excitement, I was reminded why I chose this job. In their wide-eyed wonder, I saw a reflection of my younger self, and it filled me with a sense of purpose I hadn’t felt before.
Being a counselor had its fun moments—performing skits, leading camp activities, and sharing plenty of laughter—but not every day was sunshine and s’mores. I cared for sick campers, managed hyperactive ones, and worked with children who had special needs. There were many days that kids missed home and cried, or conflicts broke out and made the day tough for everyone. Despite the challenges, I made it a priority to give myself grace while focusing on the kids' well-being. I also reminded myself to prioritize my mental health and ask for help when I needed it. At the end of the day, I still loved being a camp counselor.
I was grateful for every second of camp, both as a camper and as a counselor. The friendships I made at Camp Weaver still hold strong to this day, and I think about those fun memories of camp every day. The experience of being a counselor taught me so much—about leadership, empathy, and the power of community. Summer camp gave me a place to grow, to be myself, and to give back to the next generation of campers. Its impact runs deep, reminding me that even in the smallest moments, we can make a lasting difference in someone’s life, just as camp has done for me. Camp Weaver will always feel like home to me, much like the way John Denver's "Country Roads" reminds us of the places and moments that shape who we are and make us feel that we belong, no matter where the country roads take us.
