I was about nine years old when I decided I wanted to go to sleepaway summer camp for the first time — even though I still crawled into my mom’s bed most nights.
The idea came up during a Girl Guide meeting. I don’t remember exactly what was said, but I remember making up my mind that I was going.
Having been a Spark, a Brownie, and then a Girl Guide, camping wasn’t new to me. But I’d only ever gone for a weekend at most — and my mom, one of our group leaders, was always by my side.
This time would be different. Our leaders didn’t come to summer camp with us, which meant I’d be going it alone. Still, I’d had so much fun during our weekend getaways that I pushed my worries aside and signed up.
My mom really committed by sticking me on the coach bus from Yorkdale Shopping Centre to camp two-and-a-half hours away instead of driving me up. Amazingly, neither of us cried.
That first week away from home — filled with lake swims, rock climbing, hikes, campfires, games, skits, dancing, and endless off-tune singing (literally: This is the song that never ends. It just goes on and on, my friend …) — opened me up to a world I’d only dipped my toe in before.
One night, our counsellors told us we were going on a stealthÌýmission. We put on dark clothes and snuck our way to the mess hall at the centre of the camp’s grounds, crouching and crawling along until we made it to the basement entrance. The counsellors went inside while we waited and came back with an ice cream sandwich for each of us. We sat under the stars, grinning and swearing to keep our not-quite-midnight snack a secret.
Looking back, I’m sure the whole thing was planned. But at the time, sitting there with my cabin-mates, it felt thrilling and real — like we’d pulled off something big together.
Sunnybrook Park became a refuge for editor-in-chief Nicole MacIntyre’s family, rekindling their
The next summer, I had so much fun that I called my parents asking to stay an extra week — the longest I’d ever been away from home. I kept returning, summer after summer. Some years, I even chose camp over a birthday party with friends at home.
One of my most vivid camp memories is from my last summer there, on the night of a camp-wide game. A pickup truck was hidden somewhere on site, and whoever found it first would win. Counsellors were scattered across camp, ready to “penalize”Ìýus if they caught us, which added to the excitement.
I’m usually not one to take these games seriously — I never expect to win — but that night I found myself army-crawling through the dark again. I’d lost the friend I came to camp with at some point in the night and my jeans were ruined with mud and grass stains, but I found the truck nestled in the trees separating two fields. I climbed in and laid on the horn while I hooted and hollered, signalling that the game was over. I hadn’t won anything but bragging rights, but the way I felt in that moment was unmatched.Ìý
With fond memories of my summers at camp, I got my first job as a day camp counsellor the summer I turned 16, spending every day with the youngest kids of the group, trying to recreate the experiences that were so formative for me.
I returned to that camp when I was in university, this time as a photographer, because I couldn’t think of a more fun and rewarding way to spend summer, even if it meant long-days in the hot sun and humidity — and that first summer back, frequent sanitizing and tan lines from my face mask.
Serena’s camp site set up from a trip to Balsam Lake Provincial Park last summer.
Serena Austin / º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøStarThough I’ve aged out of the summer camp environment, I still love camping: the challenges that come with trying to pack without forgetting anything (which I’ve never accomplished), pitching a tent, starting a fire and cooking in the dark, the silliness you can get up to once freed from internet access and the beauty of nature.
Coming from a Black family where being outdoorsy isn’t the norm and getting dirty was to be avoided, I’m the only one that’s tried camping and can say it’s something I truly enjoy doing, but my early introduction to the activity broadened my perspective and has given me an appreciation for the outdoors that’s still with me and that I want to share.
One day, I hope I’ll be able convince my family to come camping with me. In the meantime though, I’ve gone camping each summer over the last three years, challenging myself to visit more campsites with more friends and loved ones each year.
This summer, I’m especially excited to introduce a group of high school friends to camping for the first time — and I hope they’ll fall for it the way I did.
Summer camp gave me so much more than just a place to play — it gave me friendships, confidence, and a sense of independence.
Every year, thousands of kids in º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøhave the chance to experience that feeling, thanks to programs like the º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøStar Fresh Air Fund. If you can, supporting those efforts helps make sure more kids get to find their own special place away from home — just like I did.
The º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøStar Fresh Air Fund
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