Hello, fellow readers and writers!
Sleep disturbance. So it's 2:10 AM and I forgot where the shut-off button is in my brain.
Summer Camp: It's the hardest job I ever worked, and I've had some tough jobs. What makes it even harder is the New Jersey humidity. The summer turns the air quality into a barely breathable pasty goo. It's a real energy thief. But the physical nature of this occupation really keeps me in shape.
Two things make this job different than your average gig. For one thing, the salary sucks in ratio to the responsibility. The other thing is this is the first job I ever worked that's actually rewarding. I mean, where can you go and hear hoards of special needs kids yell, "Joe, Joe, Joe!" when you arrive at the canopied picnic tables in the morning? The only thing those kids want is your personality. And unlike many mainstream people, hate or meanness never dwells within them.
Their minds have no concept of deception, back-biting, or cruelty. Fortunately I have an outgoing personality, and I don't mind sharing it with the kids. I'm not sure who has more fun, them or me. Also, I get to talk to their parents or caretakers and gather important information about each kid. A shy or stoic person who's unable break out of it wouldn't be happy in this career.
Being in the 'trenches' in this job means singing, dancing, organizing games, birthday parties, field-trips, being in camp shows, wearing wigs and hilarious outfits on theme days, and so on. Often times I can't believe they actually pay me to go there to play and to be my goofy self. The best part is I get to work there all year around! This is my fifth year there and I have no plans to leave anytime soon. To me, it's not a job, it's a way of life. And those kids want my laughter and enthusiasm.
See? There is a spot for a born ham after all.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Really sounds like a fabulous job. For the most part, I've been a SAHM, with a couple temporary jobs here and there. My favorite one, if only for a few months, was at a nursing home. The pay was terrible, the hours awful, the staff unremarkable... but the patients relied on us aids for everything and some rarely got visitors. It was both a good and bad experience for me.
Sometime when you're up again in the wee hours, feel free to blog about that trip to St. Lucia! I have always wanted to go there.
I think it`s a soft composition of a mature man who recalls his past. Full of description and details, sounds and felings warm story about young 8 year old boy coming to realisation that an old person became his good friend and that it was pleasant for him. A story about an appreciation for an old age. memory that will last. Keep writing:)
Post a Comment