Telling Stories With My Hands at Centauri
By Jade W.
Niagara, a place known for its vineyards, Great Wolf Lodge, and of course the famous thundering falls. Some people may even know there is a boys’ boarding school in the region. Few know that each summer this school transforms into an inspired creative hub. Kids of all ages come. To some it’s a summer home. To others it’s a home away from home. It’s a place to meet like-minded kids your own age. It’s camp. Whenever I go to this particular camp, I’m home. I know most people go to camps to meet other campers. And although the counsellors are amazing, I don’t go back year after year to meet new or familiar people. The part that really brings me back is the music.
I go back for the atmosphere. That atmosphere is driven by the music. Before I even entered the dining hall the first time, I heard the singing spreading across the fields, pulling me in like a bee to honey. When I entered, the music surrounded me, seeping into my pores, until it filled me. The smell of the daily meal, whether home-made mac and cheese or tacos, filled my nose and comforted me. It was magical.
The tunes are always there, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sometimes the music is on a theme (for instance, on the Hunger Games festival day, the music is all from the Hunger Games soundtrack). But other days the songs are special to the camp. These songs are known as ‘camp songs’. Everybody has a favourite camp song. Mine would have to be ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’.
After every meal, in our own time, many of us stand up on our wooden chairs and start to dance. Even though it looks like we’re using our whole body, we’re using our hands to tell stories. Our hands become everything, one minute a plate, the next a giraffe. Our feet are rooted to the chairs, grounding us, while the music transports us to another time and place. As soon as I stand on my chair, I feel invincible. There is no judgement, no problems, no worries. Everything falls into place. Nothing can go wrong. The sound swells as more people finish their dinner and get up on chairs to dance, energized by the music and each other. The singing is sometimes complimented by the sounds of dirty plates, glasses, or forks, clattering on the racks to be placed in the dishwasher. The voices carry across the whole camp, reaching even the darkest corners.
When it’s all over and our parents pick us up after the two weeks and ask us what we did, we just don’t talk about our electives or friends, we talk about the camp songs. It’s actually kind of disappointing arriving home and none of your family members are standing on chairs, belting out lyrics, telling stories with their hands. When I’m home and a ‘camp song’ comes on the radio, I get sad and reflective. I start thinking of our program, or the friends we met or the secret ceremonies performed the last night and how not an eye was dry. I feel camp sick. I remember all the great times singing and dancing with all the other members of my new family, where everybody, campers and staff alike, had every word down pat by the third day of camp. At all camps, it has to be music that defines the experience. Music that gives depth to all the joy.
It especially hit me one day in grade 10. I hadn’t signed up for camp yet. I’d been to camp twice before and loved it but I was hoping to get a summer job. I also thought I was too old for camp. But then, in class one day, I heard one of the camp songs and any thoughts I had about being too old or wanting a job for the whole summer flew out of my head. Better yet, the song was ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’. Two students in guitar class were singing my song and for a moment I was back in the dining hall at camp. They were doing a duet – just like the one I’d heard at camp my first night. A single tear rolled down my cheek. I didn’t realise how much I missed camp. The vibe the place gives out follows you no matter where you go. The songs that are there stick with you. I knew I had to go back to camp. That night I signed up for the first session possible. I had stories to tell with my hands.
Jade has been a camper at Centauri Arts Camp for the past 5 years.
www.centauriartscamp.com