The A-Camp saga continues…
Friday, September 14: Day 3
Friday morning Lu and I woke up with Motivation thanks to
the Nutrition and Exercise panel. We suited up and braved the altitude for a
morning jog. Turns out oxygen is an important thing. Also Alpine Meadows happens
to be on the side of a mountain. Between the previous day’s sprinting and my
weak little lungs, this jog was mostly pain.
After breakfast I felt equal parts restless and exhausted.
None of the morning activities held any real appeal, so I grabbed my book and
cycled between reading and popping in and out of various panels. I caught part
of Lesbian Jeopardy, but mostly I drank coffee. I was holding out for the
highlight of Day 3: Kickball.
Time for some history, guys. Grades K-8 I attended a small
private institution known as Christian Assembly Foursquare Academy. The school
was inside of a church, the same church my parents still faithfully attend. Every
day instead of one recess we got three breaks, and your academic status
dictated how long your breaks lasted. Fortunately, little b was a bit of an
overachiever. For the majority of my academic career I had two 30 minute breaks
and a one hour lunch break. Unfortunately, girls had to wear knee length skirts
on the daily, and attend weekly chapels, on top of our morning devotions. Have
you guys heard of Bible drills? I was routinely a Bible drills final
contestant. It’s a real thing, ask me about it.
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| I've definitely heard this phrase used non-ironically. |
Anyways, we spent our breaks in the carpeted gymnasium
playing basketball, or outside on the “playground”. Playground means fenced
parking lot. Since parking lots aren’t conducive to contact sports (tag, soccer,
football to name a few…) kickball was the game of choice. Some of my favorite childhood
memories are from kickball. Also some of my most painful, like in 4th
grade when 8th grader Andrew Kost kicked and the ball caught me so
hard in the stomach it knocked me off first base.
So kickball was a blast from the past, and also just a blast
in general. The teams were Red against Everyone Else, and I’m pretty sure my
team lost. Also third base was a piece of bark we found. You guys, kickball is a
big deal.
After kickball I more or less went my own way. I took a nap
on a bench, ate a cookie and caught bits and pieces of the Coming Out panel,
Formspring Friday and the Queer Women of Faith panel. I listened to all these
incredible women, and I’m grateful I had the opportunity to hear their stories
and experiences. Listen: thank you for your honesty, and your willingness to
share that vulnerability. I have immense respect for you.
Post-dinner I needed to check out for a while. Once again
with the processing and the feelings. So I headed back to the cabin with Lu to
grab reading materials and decompress. When we got to the cabin, most of our
bunk mates were there milling around. The big question: capture the flag, or
hide somewhere and do introvert things? Our cabin opted out of the competition
and into a silent reading group which lasted until well after the sun went
down.
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| Photo courtesy of Christina, who is wonderful |
Commence approximately an hour and a half of ladies calling
us adorable and/or sneaking pictures of us. Yes, reading is sexy. Or precious.
You know, whatever.
The final activities of the night were Fister Spit (the
staff reading us things they wrote), and a musical performance by Hav & the
Hav-Nots. The staff reading was mind blowing. Some staffers read familiar things. Laneia read one of my
favorite posts from her personal blog, and Katrina taught us how to give no
fucks. Carmen read to us from her private Tumblr, and it was my first real
glimpse of Carmen. The first time I stopped and said damn, this girl is a
superhero. Gabby read poetry that made me swoon, and also want to hug a lot of
people I haven’t talked to in a long time. Riese read a piece from when she was
younger, and poorer and living in New York. When it was over Lucy said “That’s
you. You are Riese!” and I think she might be right. I mean, I hope she’s
right.
After the reading there was this sort of stunned silence. That’s
how it felt to me, anyways. I just sat there and rolled everything around in my
head. I tried to find room inside me for all the things. Luckily, shortly
thereafter Haviland was serenading us and Stef was playing bass in a captain’s
hat. Alex Vega played the drums and Marni played guitar and they looked and
felt like a family on that stage. And so yeah, all of the feelings from the
reading were still there. But seriously, how can you feel bad when Haviland
Stilwell is singing an 80s rock ballad and Marni is doing leg kicks? You can’t.
You just can’t.
I’ma leave you with that mental image, because it’s such a
good one. All of you who were there, you know.
All my love, daydream believers.
-b
[P.S. Shout out to Valencia!
It was good to see you guys today.]
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