Campership Appeal Letter, 2018

I wrote the following letter for Camp Fire Alaska’s Campership Campaign, which aims to raise scholarship funds that offset costs for families who would be otherwise unable to afford camp.

Dear _________, 

Every camp starts with an exchange of names. Usually, because a lot of names must be shared very quickly, a game is proposed and played to help ease the process.  

“Let’s start with an icebreaker,” Lilo, enthusiastic counselor, suggested. “Each of us will say our name and then, using the first letter of your name, come up with an adjective that describes you—extra credit if you act it out. I’ll start! My name is Lilo, and I’m limber!” To demonstrate, Lilo sank into a ballet-worthy split. The children on either side of Lilo watched with awe and horror. Lilo beamed at the camper to her right. “So, who’re you?” 

Carlos fidgeted, realizing that only two campers stood between him and Limber Lilo. What adjectives started with a C? Cool? Carlos did not feel cool.

 “I’m Andi, and I am—artistic!” Andi gamely declared, now drawing a smiling face with the toe of her shoe. Still mid-split, Lilo applauded.

 Careful? Cheeky? Clever? Clumsy?

“I’m Blake, the burp!” Blake burped. The boy standing next to Blake muffled a giggle. Andi seemed less impressed.

“Burp isn’t an adjective, Blake.” Lilo instructed gently.

“I’m beautiful,” Blake batted his eyes.

Caring? Compassionate? Carsick? Carlos felt carsick. Carlos the Carsick

Lilo smiled encouragement, the signal, and Carlos’ mouth opened. “I’m courageous!” he said, too loudly. “I mean, I’m Carlos. The Courageous.” He hadn’t meant to say that. Why had he said that? How did one act courageous? Carlos struggled against the idea of throwing his chest out and posing like a superhero—or worse, flexing his biceps.

“Courageous!” Lilo repeated. “Courageous is good. We should all try to be courageous.” 

“Thanks,” Carlos answered, embarrassed. Perhaps sensing Carlos’ shyness, Lilo moved the game along, so that Stealthy Sam, Generous Jen (it was allowed), Hilarious Hanna, and Talkative Tian all introduced themselves. 

In the days that followed, Talkative Tian and Stealthy Sam would become inseparable friends. Artistic Andi, who later admitted that she’d called herself artistic on a whim, led their group through painting a mural. And Blake (Burp) the Beautiful, shocked everyone by unveiling an angelic singing voice during camp songs.

Through it all, as Carlos watched his new friends grow into the identities they’d chosen for themselves, he experienced life as the newly courageous. He volunteered to flip his canoe during water safety training. He told ghost stories. He climbed a mountain. He became the one his group turned to whenever the counselors brought them a new challenge, because they had believed him when he’d claimed, “I’m courageous.”

During the final campfire, as counselors and campers gathered to share their farewells and reflections, Carlos felt anxiety for the first time that week. He didn’t understand where the feeling came from, when he knew he was surrounded by people who liked and cared for him. As the circle’s conversation drifted his way, Carlos found himself wanting to say something. He admitted, though he felt raw to say it, “I’ll miss you.”

But as soon as it was done and the words were out there, he knew it had been right. He knew, finally, he had been courageous. Andi, Blake, Jen, and all the others were smiling at him, and nodding back, and echoing his feelings back to him. Carlos realized that he didn’t need to think of them by their adjectives anymore; the words they had chosen to define themselves by were flexible, and forever expanding. And so it was too, with him. 

Within each of us is a long list of adjectives. At camp, our job is to ensure that each child’s list gets a little longer. Camp provides an environment that is unlike any other. It provides campers the chance to stretch, flourish, and redefine themselves. We want to give that chance to as many children as possible. This summer should be filled with children who leave camp strengthened by knowing they are artistic, or limber, or courageous. 

Here’s how you can help: you can help us ignite wonder this summer by giving to our Campership Fund. $385 gives one youth a chance to experience overnight camp. $290 enables a child to a full week of day camp.

Your support, in any amount, is greatly needed and deeply appreciated. Submit the enclosed envelope with your tax-deductible donation today — or donate online at www.campfireak.org.

We have kids waiting to pack their gear...and discover their adjectives! 

With gratitude, 

Barbara Dubovich (the Boisterous)

CEO, Camp Fire Alaska