I’m a words person. I tell everyone that. I use words that other people raise their eyebrows at. A PhD in English professor raised me! I had to use words to keep up in my house. So when kids come to camp and I teach Chumash, or Scorienteering, or Astronomy, I throw in things like ascertain and articulate and conundrum more often than not. I know they’re only eleven or twelve, but it’s just the way I speak. I try to lighten it up with goofy words and sounds. A little bit of this, and a little bit of that never hurts.
Last month, we had a smaller group of kids come up, which I always love. I get to know each one in a much deeper way than when massive waves of children pour down on us some weeks. And this last week, a particular camper, let’s call her “Millie”, loved the way I talked. I would throw in a quick action sound at lunch and she would laugh and laugh.
“I love the way you say words, Brigette,” she said. “It’s so goofy!” I laughed.
The week flew by and before any of us knew it, it was closing campfire. We’ve started the tradition of passing a Speaking Stick at closing campfire. Any camper who wishes to share their favorite moment can come up and hold the tall Speaking Stick and tell everyone about anything they loved about the week. One by one the kids went up and shared. This group though, they really thought about what they said.
“I really saw myself, the real me” one girl shared. “I’ve never been that safe before.“
“I know who my friends truly are now,” a boy said. “And they’re even more amazing than I thought.”
All of their words, their thoughtful, intelligent, mindful words, made me a little teary. And for the first time, I took the Speaking Stick and shared.
“I don’t normally do this,” I told the kids. “But I felt like what all of you just did, how you all just shared your weeks with us, that was my favorite moment. Do you know what eloquent means?” They all shook their heads at me. They were only eleven or twelve. “It means you guys have a beautiful way of saying what you feel. I appreciate that, I am a words person.” They all laughed a little. They’d heard me say that a thousand times. “And you guys used your words impeccably.”
The next day after lunch we all said our goodbyes. The kids gave us hugs and chucked their giant duffle bags back onto the bus to make their way home. Before they drove off, Millie walked up to me.
“I meant what I said,” she said to me.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“I meant what I said earlier. I love how you use words.” She ran up to me and wrapped her arms around me. My mouth dropped opened. I was shocked. I cried a little and hugged her back. The kids don’t normally make me cry when they leave, but Millie did. She got it. She was eloquent. She was so beautifully eloquent.
- Brigette
Joseph Zimmerly
