Day 188

In high school, I worked at Greene Family Camp in Bruceville, Texas.  Bruceville is about 10 miles from Waco, Texas. Yes, that Waco.  GFC is a Jewish camp.  Yes, a Jewish camp in the middle of the scariest part of Texas, where they have never met a Jew before.

The counselors would leave camp after the campers went to bed and go to the Hilltop Bar.  Because, you know, Bruceville. Pretty much the only place to go out there. They didn’t seem to think it necessary to card a bunch of obviously high school students.  There was a jukebox.   On that jukebox was the worst country music you can imagine — this was before I developed an appreciation for good bluegrass style country music — and this song:

Things didn’t end well for my at GFC. I wound up being fired after I was a slightly unwilling participant in smuggling a bunch of under 18 CITs off grounds to the bar. I carried around a lot of shame for this until I realize how truly shitty it was to punish a bunch of kids for making a dumb decision, probably bowing under pressure from some rich fuck’s parents who were appalled that their kids wanted to drink. Whatever. Because I was 18 and the passenger of a car driven by another 18 year old, we were that much more culpable than the 16 year olds who wanted desperately to come with us, and would have found any way to get off grounds they could? Come on. Discipline, yes. Fired? Seems harsh. And you know what? What did you expect, putting your camp out in the middle of East Texas with nothing else to do?

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~ by realsupergirl on July 7, 2015.

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