For generations, Camp Tamakwa has been a special place for my family. Located in the wilderness of northern Ontario, my mom spent many summers there as a spirited camper and counselor. My brother and sister, following in her footsteps, each attended for more than 12 years. Accessible only by boat and without access to electronics, Tamakawa provides the perfect environment to form meaningful, life-long relationships.
My brother and sister were star campers, and I struck gold in having them as role models each summer. I watched my siblings thrive at Tamakwa, admiring them as they cheered in the dining hall, won color wars, and ultimately became exemplary counselors. Growing up with my siblings at camp brought us closer, and I felt a strong connection to my mom there, too.
This past summer, neither of my siblings returned to camp. I was a little sad but excited to pave my own way as a counselor. When I was chosen to lead a 10-day canoe trip with six young campers, I immediately accepted the challenge. Every day, I saw my mom’s commemorative plaque in the dining hall, celebrating her 13-day “Babes on the Pet” canoe trip in 1993. This would be my first opportunity to be independent at camp, and I was determined to prove I could do things on my own.
The first day on trip, we paddled from sunrise until sunset and carried our 50-lb canoes on a 3-kilometer hike. Although the day was physically demanding, my first true test as a trip leader would come once we finally arrived at the campsite.
I gathered the girls around a campfire to share a special story: “There’s something important I need to tell you. There are fairies in these woods, and they’re relying on us to make them homes for the night.” Seeing the excitement on their faces, I continued, “When we wake up tomorrow morning, I’m sure the fairies will leave a present to thank us.”
The air was filled with the crackling of the fire and distant little giggles as I prepared dinner over the campfire. “Jamie, come look at my fairy house!” As a young Tamakwan, I remembered listening intently to my siblings as they shared camp’s unique customs with me. I realized that being a leader meant so much more than simply handling logistics; I also was making a lasting impact on these impressionable, young girls, just as my siblings had influenced me.
As the sun rose over the lake the next morning, I quickly tiptoed to the food barrels. After looking for what felt like hours, I finally found it: a small jar of rainbow sprinkles. I carefully scattered the sprinkles over each fairy house and eagerly waited for the girls to wake up. My campers’ faces lit up as they noticed the fairy dust, and my heart burst with joy. I realized that these little girls would one day remember camp as fondly as I do now.
When we returned to Tamakwa, I was excited to finally take a break. The next morning, just as my name was called over the loudspeaker for “Counselor of the Week,” I noticed something new above my mom’s canoe trip plaque. Above “Babes on the Pet, 1993” was “Coco Loco, 2023.” Seeing my own trip plaque above my mom’s reminded me how much Tamakwa has brought our family together and how much I’ve grown there, too. My siblings had made magic for me, and I made magic for my girls. I grew into an important role on my own, and this is what camp was all about.
