Cliques–

“You could tell there were cliques or groups, but it was never in a mean way. It was usually the Saginaw girls, the Bay City Girls, the Detroit girls—and they were usually in the same hut, so they just hung out together,” said Deb Wilkinson (1964-66).” I do remember the girls from the wealthier families were able to stay at camp later and I was always in awe of that. My Mom had worked in the same Italian restaurant and she worked to pay for our fees, and it was a lot of money back then.”

Tally Cone (1960-65) learned during her time that some girls were more malicious with their pranks. She also had a keen awareness of the dynamics of the girls and the cliques that were formed and broken. She recalled coming to camp with girls from her middle school that were popular. “They were not as cliquey at camp as they were at school. They thought they were “hot stuff” in junior high, but when they got to camp and found other girls shined in activities in camp that they did not excel, it was a different dynamic. And I found I liked some of the girls much better than I had liked them!”

Sister Laurie Cone (1962-68) had an outgoing personality, was talkative and made friends easily, but agreed there were a few cliques. “As a counselor you would try to break them up, but for the most part everyone got along well. Sue Kiltie and I were both from Birmingham, but we always told everyone we were from Detroit, because they thought we were rich bitches if we said Birmingham,’ she laughed. “By the end of two weeks all of those alliances would melt away and everyone would be sobbing.”

Mean Girls—

A few fights were remembered,  and included one in Dawn Sohigian’s last year at camp in 1974, but it usually involved the campers. Margot Homburger (1946-52) had a memory of a mean counselor, who wanted one of her friends, (who was younger), to be in her cabin. It did not happen. When the girls went on an overnight hike, the counselor refused to tell them what to bring, but Margot said she did not let it spoil her trip.

Cindy Rose described herself as a tiny middle school girl in the late sixties when she attended Camp Maqua in the sixth, seventh and eighth grades. Born in 1957, she told me she had a lot of adjustment and was teased quite a bit when she went to camp. Her counselors were always kind to her and she recalled a short counselor named Penny with blonde hair that was her favorite.

“It was sad to have the girls picking on me and I saw them do it to others. They hid girl’s bras if they wore them. I wasn’t teased for wearing one because I was the last one in eighth grade to wear one, but when I developed, I developed so fast that I was teased for stuffing my bra and girls in school actually tore my bra off. I was devastated.” (Ironically, although another girl instigated another incident at Camp Maqua, Cindy went in on the teasing for another full-breasted girl and told me she could not wait to apologize.)

Square Pegs in Round Holes–

“Most of those who went to the “Live-Y’ers” in Bay City tried Maqua later,” said one of the self-described precocious campers, “and I had my first introduction to camp at aged ten in 1959. I liked my first session and since I was an only child, I liked the chance to meet new friends. I was a lonely child and had never really been part of a group, but I went for one week. I had difficulty making friends, since I was “overly brainy” and had hung out with adults in my parent’s clothing store. I was not very well-socialized, and had interests that were more adult than my friends.

“I was trouble, though.  I was very verbal as a pre-teen. I didn’t fit in with the younger girls. I was into studying and advanced reading. So, instead of hanging out with the girls my age, I was asking the college girls about their classes and studying. That didn’t go over too well with some of the physical education majors who were counselors there, who were no match for me. They thought I was messing with their heads, and they would complain about me.  Since I was one of those kids in school who was into reading to the exclusion of sports and getting along with people, the director finally suggested that I needed to be on their side!”

“So, the following year, I became a kitchen aid. It was great. All I had to do was bus a few tables and my fees were paid. I can still remember there was an Italian cook in the kitchen that summer.”

“I learned to choose my battles, and the director, who was Dorthe Balaskas at the time, handled me just fine. She commanded respect and had great composure, but was very low key. As I grew older, I learned how my inner processes and intellect worked and the gap closed, and I realized there were many more out there that were much more intelligent than I was!”

Fitting In—

Judy Rawlings kept to herself and never opened her mouth in the fifties. A self-professed tomboy, her way of fitting in was to befriend another little tomboy called “Billie”. (Karen Kaiser) “I was so excited to go back to camp and told myself to be brave and strong, but that didn’t last long,” said her timid sister Mary Jo Rawlings.. “I remember trying to find where I fit in and looked for others who were as reticent as I.”

“I was an only child and very bright,” said Janet Dixon (1951-52). “Although I got along well with other children I often felt like I didn’t really belong. I was actually more comfortable with adults.”

“The second year was a bad year for me,” said Debbie Robson (1971-72). “It was the year I camped in Primitive and I just didn’t make friends. I wasn’t very popular, but more of the quiet and shy girl who wasn’t really sociable. I wanted to be, but I just wasn’t. The girls in my group were all very popular, so I was pretty much a loner that year, since I didn’t hang out with them. There were two groups who hung together and I didn’t feel like I fit in. I can remember coming up to camp and overhearing someone say, “That Debbie always tries to help, but she always makes it worse.” So, they left me alone.”

Debbie ended up redeeming herself in the eyes of her camp mates on the day one of the campers became ill. “One of the girls, Martha, was so sick in the outhouse. The counselor asked me to run as fast as I could back to camp to get a nurse. I ran and ran and ran and got back to camp quick. I finally felt good about myself because they were all proud of how fast I ran.”

Childhood Feelings—

Did Anne Pennington know there were girls who were envious of her tall, thin summer body? Or that the Kiltie sister’s hair was the epitome of summer hair?  Or that “Beanie, Superdoo (Sue Purdue), Kiltie (Susan) and  (Anne) Obey” intimidated some of the less secure girls? Probably not! Little girls in the process of growing up had many feelings that they harbored, but still remembered as adults. Looking back, they were able to process as adults, but as young girls, those feelings were sometimes overwhelming.

Jeananne Grego (1966) and shy Tracy Topping (1962-63) remembered the girl with the cool name—Sue Purdue. Jeananne admitted to staying in the background, and looked forward to getting away to camp. “It turned a medium summer into a great one and camp was the highlight!” Tracy loved how an all girls setting allowed her to be relaxed without makeup or boys.

As a camper in the seventies, Karen Selby was not unfriendly, but did not make lifelong friends. “I have made friends all over the world, but I always saw friends as temporary, so I never felt a loss. I was raised in Bay City, in what was considered a small family. Life was about home and that was my element.”

Socialization—

“I was very independent and made friends easily and I recall there were never any problems with kids and no one got moved out of the cabins, “said Ruth Wiesen (1957-59).” I don’t remember anyone going home early either. We were all so busy and signed up for activities before we started. In the activities, you were in with other kids from other huts, and if you wanted to switch activities, the counselors would let you.”

Jan Mosier’s good friend Mary Lou Clay went away to Camp Maqua with her in 1947 just before Jan turned eight. Both sets of parents were good friends and Jan and Mary Lou ended up going to college together.

“I usually went to fourth period for the first few years and I never remember being in the first sessions, but I attended for six years until 1952,” she said. “The other great thing about my friend going up with me was that her Mom could drive.  If I stayed for more than one session, my Mom would send up new clothes—all with the labels sewn in.

Jan looked forward to going to camp every year and could not wait,” I guess I was an extrovert and made friends easily. I wasn’t bold, but I certainly got along. Every year I was chomping at the bit to get back to camp. When I look back, I think it taught me tolerance to live with other people and a love for the outdoors.”