IndigoJuly
New member
- Dec 3, 2010
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I'm applying to a writing camp, and we have to write about a time when words affected us.
I remember a few years ago, I had decided to leave a summer camp, appropriatly named Camp Walden, which was a place of security and comfort for me for four years. I had aimed to get outside my comfort zone and expand my interest in acting and singing somewhere new. Walden served for me as an escape from the pressure of school and family, a place where I could relax, see my friends and enjoy the beauty and quiet of nature in Maine. Since I live in New York City, the quiet and freedom from pressure drew me back there every summer. However, going to Walden, I wasn't learning anything new about the world or myself, so I decided to take a chance and expand my interests. The place I was going was called Belvoir, a performing arts camp in Massachusetts. I had dreamed of going to it for a long time. I was nervous to go there, but in leaving I felt confident, along with my family, that I would make friends, have fun and improve my skills. However, when I got there, the girls who I shared a bunk with grew increasingly meaner towards me as the summer grew on. They were able to find things they knew hurt me the most, draw them out and use teasing me as a way of their creating drama and bonding together themselves. It rained almost every day that summer so the nature and beauty I had loved at Walden wasn't existent, and I had gotten only a small part in the musical I was so excited to act and sing in. I was young when I went, it was the summer after sixth grade, as well as naïve about the group dynamic that existed between these girls who had been at camp together for many years prior to my arrival and had already bonded without me. I thought there was something that I had done profoundly wrong in living with them, a huge social mistake I wasn't aware that I had made. The problem was that I had no idea what I had done to make them hate me so much, so naturally I was confused and upset with myself. Without my parents and friends to confide in, or internet and television in which to distract myself, I sought an escape from loneliness I felt. My mom had sent with me a journal, and though I hadn't written much prior to going to camp, I decided to give keeping a diary a try. Every day, I would write down how in detail my emotions, and everything that came to mind. The first time I wrote, I remember feeling a profound sense of freedom, like the enormous weight of keeping how I felt to myself was lifted off my shoulders. It was like the sadness I felt was transferred out of me and put onto the page. Also, I noticed as I kept writing that I learned more about how I felt and was able to figure out my emotions through writing, alleviating my sense of confucian in myself. Ever since I had written my first diary entry there, the summer began to look up because I started to feel as though I wasn't alone. Though I didn't have any one close to me there who would listen to how I felt, I could be independent and comfort myself through writing. Looking back on my experience at Belvoir, I realize that I was able to maintain my confidence in myself, and grow as a person, through writing in my diary every day. I was able to gain independence, rather than lose it and become unsure of myself, which would have happened without the outlet I had of writing. Though Belvoir was a bad experience for me, I learned much about myself, gained independence, and discovered a new interest in writing, so, as they say, every cloud has silver lining.
I remember a few years ago, I had decided to leave a summer camp, appropriatly named Camp Walden, which was a place of security and comfort for me for four years. I had aimed to get outside my comfort zone and expand my interest in acting and singing somewhere new. Walden served for me as an escape from the pressure of school and family, a place where I could relax, see my friends and enjoy the beauty and quiet of nature in Maine. Since I live in New York City, the quiet and freedom from pressure drew me back there every summer. However, going to Walden, I wasn't learning anything new about the world or myself, so I decided to take a chance and expand my interests. The place I was going was called Belvoir, a performing arts camp in Massachusetts. I had dreamed of going to it for a long time. I was nervous to go there, but in leaving I felt confident, along with my family, that I would make friends, have fun and improve my skills. However, when I got there, the girls who I shared a bunk with grew increasingly meaner towards me as the summer grew on. They were able to find things they knew hurt me the most, draw them out and use teasing me as a way of their creating drama and bonding together themselves. It rained almost every day that summer so the nature and beauty I had loved at Walden wasn't existent, and I had gotten only a small part in the musical I was so excited to act and sing in. I was young when I went, it was the summer after sixth grade, as well as naïve about the group dynamic that existed between these girls who had been at camp together for many years prior to my arrival and had already bonded without me. I thought there was something that I had done profoundly wrong in living with them, a huge social mistake I wasn't aware that I had made. The problem was that I had no idea what I had done to make them hate me so much, so naturally I was confused and upset with myself. Without my parents and friends to confide in, or internet and television in which to distract myself, I sought an escape from loneliness I felt. My mom had sent with me a journal, and though I hadn't written much prior to going to camp, I decided to give keeping a diary a try. Every day, I would write down how in detail my emotions, and everything that came to mind. The first time I wrote, I remember feeling a profound sense of freedom, like the enormous weight of keeping how I felt to myself was lifted off my shoulders. It was like the sadness I felt was transferred out of me and put onto the page. Also, I noticed as I kept writing that I learned more about how I felt and was able to figure out my emotions through writing, alleviating my sense of confucian in myself. Ever since I had written my first diary entry there, the summer began to look up because I started to feel as though I wasn't alone. Though I didn't have any one close to me there who would listen to how I felt, I could be independent and comfort myself through writing. Looking back on my experience at Belvoir, I realize that I was able to maintain my confidence in myself, and grow as a person, through writing in my diary every day. I was able to gain independence, rather than lose it and become unsure of myself, which would have happened without the outlet I had of writing. Though Belvoir was a bad experience for me, I learned much about myself, gained independence, and discovered a new interest in writing, so, as they say, every cloud has silver lining.