Category: Support Camp

I grew up in an Italian neighborhood in The Bronx, New York, in the 1960’s. My tiny world of a few blocks was very safe and sheltered. There were parks to visit, but no real wilderness that I was aware of.

Some years later, my mother informed me that I would be attending a summer camp in a place called Grantham, New Hampshire. As far as I was concerned I was headed to a far away land…possibly near Siberia. I went very reluctantly.

Up until that point I had only been to one other camp where I spent two months living in an open lean-two cabin…3 walls and an open door to raccoons, spiders and the occasional snake. I was terrified…but at the same time, I was starting to have an awakening to something special that lay beyond my four concrete blocks in The Bronx.

I remember the drive to Coniston…so many rows of pine trees on some never ending highway. I remember the first time we walked past the general store and down the slope leading to the lake. My first view of the lake that would begin a great adventure within my imagination. Little did I ever imagine that by summer’s end I would be sailing a Sunnie by myself, or learning to save a drowning swimmer when I could barely swim myself. I didn’t know I would be firing rifles and eventually teaching younger campers to do the same, or that I would be camping out in the dark woods and eating s’mores and being told it was lights out and  to put a sock in it! In what, I wondered?

At the end of my first summer, I remember sitting in the back of my parent’s car on the long ride back to New York…and I felt a sadness I had never known. I couldn’t believe it was already over, and that I might not see these incredible friends for a whole year. I just didn’t want it to end.

But I had a secret. A secret I couldn’t tell….

I was not the same person that arrived two months earlier. I was still Chris, but I was also now a member of the Church of The Great Outdoors. I just didn’t want to be inside. I wanted to be outside…to breathe the air, to smell the trees, to feel the river, to climb the hills…

And from that moment on, the insects were my friends, the thunder and lightning were music to my ears…

If not for Coniston, I would have always been a city kid…a little afraid of the dark woods, of the unknown, of the animals and sounds of the forest…

But no more….

And by the time I was 21 years old,  I was going down The Mighty Amazon River in search of the rarest monkey in the world, and soon after that driving in an 8500 mile race across South America…eventually discovering  that photography could take me anywhere I wanted to go…

And the adventures continued…

But I am here to tell all future campers…that you will never know what a summer at Coniston will unlock within you.

I had no idea when I drove down the driveway for the first time, that the key to my destiny might lie at the end of that road.

And here are a few photos from the life that I owe to 2 summers in the years 1976 and 1977….

Thank you Camp Consiton and to the many friends and staff I got to know in my youth.

…and to my dear mother, who raised us on meager means, but always sought out and found the meaningful adventures on our behalf.

— Chris, 70/80’s Alumnus

TRANSCRIPT:

Hello.

What are your greatest camp treasures?

Skills and lessons? Yes. Lifelong friends? Absolutely. But when you gather a group of alumni together though, camp stories become equally treasured. The sillier, wackier, and more unbelievable, the better. Camp stories beg to be shared and stretched like silly putty across our collective Coniston memories, gaining magic and bending accuracy with each pass.

There is one story, however, that did just the opposite. It disappeared.

A couple years ago, alumnus and camp legend Paul “The Wall” Marcotte donated some amazing items to the camp archive that he came across online. There were postcards and letters that gave a bit more insight into what camp life was like through the last century. Even among this wealth of new archival material, there was one item that stood out: a letter from former camp director Maynard L. Carpenter, who helmed Camp Soangetaha (which eventually became Coniston) during its early years.

The contents of the letter were as shocking as they were brief. It read: “As you know there was no camp last year on account of the War but I hope that you will be able to be with us this year.” It was dated May 14^th, 1919. Camp was cancelled for the summer of 1918.

Fast forward to this spring. I was devastated to hear that traditional camp programming was not going to happen this summer. But after the initial shock set in, I could not stop thinking about the other missing Coniston summer and the war that cancelled it.

To me, the truth behind why we never heard about that summer is because the real story is not about what did not happen. The real story is about what happened afterward. In the summers following 1918, summer camps all over began to change. People returning from serving in the military, many of whom were about the same age as summer staff, introduced elements of their experience as they redesigned camps. Camps went from weekend outing clubs to far more structured, sophisticated organizations.

Consider Camp’s layout for example. Coniston’s layout dates to the early 1920s. We have rows of uniform cabins with a central base area. We have daily flag ceremonies. We start the day with reveille and end it with taps. These traditions were adapted from the shared hardships and military experiences of the counselors who would come back to camp starting in 1919. In contrast, suburbs were popular in the 50s and 60s, and camps from that time are spread out like suburbs.

The traditions that were introduced almost 100 years ago, because of that missing summer, have become a part of the DNA of Coniston. In the same way that you can tell the story of a tree by looking at its rings, our shared experiences in 2020 will join to shape the Coniston community of the future.

It is hard to imagine the camp that would become YMCA Camp Coniston during the missing summer of 1918. At that time camp was just a group of individuals with some supplies, borrowed space in the woods, and the belief that time outdoors, together, was the cure to a lot of what was wrong with the world. Through the darkness of this year, I find inspiration in picturing how much we have grown in the past 100, and how that growth has been able to positively affect the lives of countless individuals. I find hope in imaging the summer of 2118. What will it look like? History would dictate that the answers begin with the Coniston community of 2021.

The fact that for the two times camp has been canceled, they are almost exactly 100 years apart, during a pandemic, going into the 20s is a special coincidence.  It reminds me of a dining hall quote from Ivy Baker Priest: “The world is round, and the place which may seem like the end, may also be only the beginning.”

Jack Berthiaume spent each summer (and a couple winters) at Coniston from 2005-2019. Today, he applies his camp lessons daily as a graduate student at the University of Washington and in his work at a nonprofit on Vashon Island, Washington.

Coniston has a track record of success in the face of society’s biggest challenges. If you found this read interesting, you may also like coniston.org/history. There, you will see how Coniston has used the power of camp to overcome everything from the Great Depression, to international political strife, to the plight of wild songbirds.

TRANSCRIPT:

Hello. I wanted to give you an update on Coniston.

Alumna, Rachel created a Facebook fundraiser to Keep Coniston on the Map. Below are her written words about how important Camp was for her and why such an amazing place needs to be saved.

Anyone who has heard me mention YMCA Camp Coniston has probably also heard me say I don’t know where I would be today if I hadn’t ended up there.

With my parents busy raising three kids and working full time, I was left to my own devices a lot and the majority of my guidance and role models was found in teachers and my friends’ parents. I was volatile, often (usually unknowingly) mean, mostly because I had trouble identifying and expressing my emotions. I had no idea at the time, but as someone who has dedicated a huge portion of my adult life to understanding human behavior for my work, it has become abundantly clear to me how much Camp Coniston altered my future.

I came to Coniston less than two months after suddenly losing my older brother. My parents (justifiably) were lost in their own grief. I found myself at the age of 13 having to play the role of caregiver while fumbling my way through my own devastating grief. I had signed up for one session at Coniston months prior. But when the time came to actually go, I had a lot of mixed feelings about going to a place where I only knew two people, especially when I felt so sad and not in control of my emotions. It turned out to be arguably, the best decision of my life.

At Coniston, I was given critical time to heal and to just be a kid. To let myself smile, have fun, process my feelings and just take care of myself. It quieted my anxiety, it helped me find strength in myself, but also the strength that comes from being part of a community. That it’s ok to lean on your community when you need help. In two short weeks, I made lifelong friends, I shot an arrow for the first time, I learned how to swim, I played outside, I learned to hug, I felt safe. The counselors were fun and supportive and cheered you on when you tried new things. It was paradise to me. I fell deeply and madly in love with Coniston that summer; with the people, the breathtaking views, the energy, the shared love of this place.

I returned to those shores for another 9 summers, the very happiest summers of my life. Coniston gave me the tools I needed to grow socially and mentally. I learned to be adaptive to situations, I learned what it means to be a good friend, I learned how to lead, to be still, to look up, to love, to guide, to persevere, to nurture, to be respectful and respected, to challenge myself, to encourage, to support, to care, to explore.

Camp is an exquisitely unique and valuable experience that I wish every child could have. After what I can only imagine was a heartbreaking and incredibly difficult decision, our Camp Director, John Tilley has wisely and compassionately decided to not open camp this summer to protect the staff and campers from COVID-19. My heart breaks for all the campers and staff. Especially for those that need camp. For those kids who are sustained the rest of the year by these 2 and 4-week sessions. Although I haven’t rested my head at Coniston in nine years, it will always be my home and my family. I will eternally be grateful to this family for giving me the building blocks I needed to flourish.

The amazing year-round staff at Coniston are incredible humans. They have dedicated their time and energy to creating a safe and beautiful space for all children ages 8-18. Coniston has a wonderful philosophy that camp should be accessible to everyone. So other than offering camperships to help fund campers who wouldn’t normally be able to afford camp, they have also worked incredibly hard to keep the session costs way below the national average.

Prior to the outbreak, they had already invested a lot of money in making sure this summer was something special for their campers. In their efforts to prepare the camp for an amazing summer, they now find themselves facing a $1.3M loss. If you are able to share anything to help this amazing place survive this loss for future campers, I know my entire Coniston family would be incredibly grateful.

#oneconistonfamily
#inthehillsofoldnewhampshire
#tomorrowisanotherConistonday

A note from a family who participated in Community Days…

I just wanted to take a moment to say a huge Thank You to the entire Coniston staff for the community days that you have set up. For us, our daughter was supposed to be a first-time camper this year, and clearly this couldn’t happen.

For her, being able to spend a day with us, her grandparents, uncle, and niece was HUGE and allowed her to make memories at camp before she goes away for the first time next summer.

Getting to explore the grounds and activities was so important for her. As with all kids, new experiences can be daunting at times. And this day at camp allowed her to know that next summer truly will be amazing. She knew it. But now she has experienced it.

So a huge thank you to all that made this happen. Everyone in our group was thrilled. My parents loved being able to see where she will be and can now picture it in their minds for when she sends letters next summer. We loved it for knowing what she will be telling us after it all. My brother and his daughter loved it and are considering coming when she is ready.
So, a wonderful day all around.

CITs of 2000 were bummed to have their 20th reunion cancelled due to COVID-19—they had been looking forward to reconnecting and learning how the program has changed over the past 20 years. Additionally, their hearts went out to the 2020 CITs knowing how crushing news of cancelation must be after riding the high of opening the acceptance letter.