We got to school Sunday morning
to be greeted by the usual storm, which meant that our kids were later than
usual. By 7:30 we had almost all of them, so we stopped playing games with our
kids in our own classrooms and started the awards ceremony on the basketball
court. At this point, several kids were already crying and it was spreading
through them as they were standing in lines like a disease but for the most
part the tears stopped during the presentation of certificates. We did not do
too hot in the standings, but according to staff we actually might’ve won at
least 6th grade had we had our 3 best kids but unfortunately there’s
a huge overlap between our athletic kids and the ones that get benched for misbehaving,
so whatcha gonna do. Anyhow, it was a blast getting to cheer for all of them,
take our pictures, watch one of the American coaches present pens to her teams
like Vanna White, and just get to focus on how much our kids have achieved in
only 3 weeks and how hard they’ve worked. It was also nice to focus on
something other than the drama from the night before and to have something that
made everyone move through any tension because when it came down to it, I stand
by the fact that I was incredibly lucky to have a group of coaches that were
all there for the same reason, and that was the kids. After all of the awards
were presented, we went back into our classroom. The kids got little notes and
gave us some as well, so emotions were already running high, but after a few
minutes of milling around, I looked at my watch and realized we had only a few
before we were supposed to be loading the bus. Elly was grabbing something from
another room, so I started talking to them about how proud we were of them, how
we believed in them and weren’t just telling them what we’d talked about in
life skills or about their goals and dreams because the textbook told them to,
how we’re always going to be their biggest fans cheering them on from across
the world, etc., and they lost it, as did the coaches. Toán, our quieter
troublemaker, had written Elly and me notes the other day when we did gratitude
letters to the people that had helped us, which had already melted our hearts,
but watching him cry was not something I thought I would be doing at camp.
There’s something surreal about looking around at a classroom, and then
downstairs where some classes had already been released, and seeing 140 people
ranging from 11-22 all crying. Our director started telling us it was time to
get on the bus, but no one made a move to do anything other than continue
hugging our kids and she didn’t stop us for probably 10 minutes even though she
kept giving us apologetic reminders. We’d heard about how tough it’s been for
camps to leave in the past, but I think at least I underestimated the emotional
attachment that we developed for these kids in only a month. It’s pretty hard
to leave a child, heaving with sobs, after they told you they didn’t know how
they would be able to say goodbye to a dear sister and wished you a happy life
and asked for you to go back to them. And that wasn’t the anomaly, that was the
normal sentiment across the camp. So despite all of the frustration we
encountered at the camp and how excited we are in some ways to get back to the
land of toilet paper, dairy products, and cockroach-free-living, there’s pretty
undeniable proof that the program achieves what it’s supposed to, because it’s
tough not to be overcome with pride, humility, and a mashup of all emotions
when you go from 2 7th graders having goals to all of them having a
concrete dream and promising us in letters to apply what they’ve learned to
furthering their education and overcoming their obstacles.
Anyhow, off to begin our 40+ hour journey with a pitstop in Tokyo and visit
to the world’s biggest statue – a bronze Buddha! Until the next adventure :)
- Alex
