Posted By James Besser
This Jewish Life: Growing Up
I guess this is growing up…
I can't think of anything in the world that I love more than being at Camp Swift. Yesterday, I received an application to be a member of the Camp support staff and, unlike in the past, I didn't immediately print it and fill it out. Instead, I came to the jarring and upsetting realization that, for the first time in five years, I won't be there.
Last week, on a Congressional lobby visit with students from my home congregation (Temple Chai in Phoenix, Arizona), I heard a student give a speech on immigration in which she told the story of a kid she had met at Camp Swift whose family was deported very suddenly. When we left the office, she said to me, "I saw you smiling when I started talking about Camp Swift."
It was true. I loved hearing her talk about the experience that inspired me to become an advocate and knowing that the lives of a new generation of high school students are being touched by the kids that they meet at Camp Swift.
Camp Swift is a week-long retreat for inner-city Phoenix students, where we give them "all the food that they can eat and all the love that they can handle." It's an incredible thing to be a part of. We build a safe, supportive, and fun environment for kids whose home lives are often less-than-ideal. High-school aged students serve as their counselors and everyone else helps to run fun activities like swimming, rock climbing, cooking, canoeing, etc. It is the only time of year when I forget all of my other responsibilities, commitments and stresses and focus completely on giving back to my community.
At least I know that, even though I won't be with them this summer, I haven't abandoned my commitment to improving the lives of these kids. When I am advocating for more effective schooling or better health care coverage, the faces of the kids I have met at Camp are always flashing before my eyes.
But it's not the same as being there. I won't get to watch a kid's face light up as he realizes that, for the first time in his life, he can eat as much food as he wants. I won't get to give a hug to a kid who just overcame his fear of heights to scale a 15-foot rock wall. I won't get to hear a counselor sing camp songs while walking around with one camper on his back and one holding each of his hands. And I won't get to see a kid cry as she realizes that the best four days of her life are over.
It's a sacrifice that I had to make in order to move across the country to take on a new life and job. As much as I wish that I could stay involved and connected with everything (and everyone) that had an impact on my life in the past, I am quickly learning that it is simply impossible. I have to abandon certain passions in order to make room for others. While this is a reality that I am beginning to understand, I have a long way to go before I will be able to accept it.