The girls at camp were not always nice about that time of life when a young girl transitioned to a young woman. Coming of age was sometimes traumatic enough, especially if the girl was unprepared for the changes that came with her first menstrual period. Mix in a little un-necessary meanness and it doubled the shock.
“I know that my parents were delighted when I came home from camp one summer to find that I had lost weight from running up and down the steps to and from the lodge and my cabin. I was kind of a chubby kid,” said Chris Augustyniak (1963-66). “I remember the last year I was in Cabin 9 over the boathouse and there were eight girls in our cabin. In retrospect, she could be called a mean girl. There was another timid girl named Jean who had her second period while she was at camp. She was supposedly asleep and one girl started a discussion about this timid girl and I thought it was inappropriate, so I told them they should shut up. As it turned out, she was not asleep and she felt like I was her only friend. I still remember how it taught me to always stand up for people. Maybe because I was a Catholic in a small school—I knew there were cliques, but I just remember thinking that was what I should do.”
“The girl who lived across the street from me, Nancy, went to camp with me that first year (1951), and we were in the same hut. Now, Nancy was NOT my best friend. I had already learned that I could not trust Nancy,” said Janet Dixon. “At camp I learned NEVER to trust Nancy. I matured very early, and I had already had my first period before going to camp that first year. One day Nancy pulled me aside and said she had something important to tell me and I must promise not to tell anyone else. I promised. She said she had begun having her periods. She was very excited. However, when I told her that I had started my period too, several months ago, she was deflated. I guess she wanted to be first. She told me not to tell anyone, and again I agreed that I would not and didn’t! I would never tell anyone else anything so personal, so private and shared in confidence. About a week later, I was flabbergasted, when the counselor in our hut pulled me aside and admonished me for telling other girls that Nancy had started having her period. She said that Nancy said I was the only one she told and since the other girls now knew, I must have been the one who told them. I denied all of this, of course, but I didn’t feel the counselor ever really believed me. I then went to the other girls and asked them who had told them about Nancy. They all said the same thing. Nancy told them! I went back to the counselor and told her this and suggested she ask the other girls herself, but she seemed rather indifferent at this point. I think she figured out by then it might be better to stay out of things.”
One camper from the late fifties and early sixties had an unfortunate experience with one of the directors. “She was mean and rough and I was afraid of her. She embarrassed me publicly in an unforgettable way. What did I do? I hung some things to dry on some clothesline and apparently there was some residual blood stain on my underwear. Quite mean, right? She was night and day from ______!” (previous director)
Did mean girls or staff embarrass you in any way?
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Like many of the Moms who sent their daughters off to camp, the little labels were sewn into Jeri Smith’s camp wardrobe in the sixties. The list for camp would arrive in the mail to check off the activites and articles of clothing plus items needed for the two-week sessions. Of course, there was always the excitement of checking the boxes next to the ones she loved. In addition, there was the yearly physical, so that she was up to date on her shots.
