Orange Peels

By

Lacy Klosterman

Personal Experience Narrative

COM 75-613: Journalism Fall 2002

Mostly I was disturbed that the problem was right in front of my face and I did not do anything about it. I did not take any action. I was not able to protect her from what was happening. Today I understand that I did not know what the symptoms were, so there was no way I could have correctly identified them. I did not know that her demeanor was the result of a life-threatening situation. I did not know that she was anorexic and was being sexually abused.

***

Camp Green Hill Girl Scout camp is located on Lake Corpus Christi about thirty miles from Alice, my small, south-Texas hometown. I took a short drive down a gravel road shaded by mesquite trees to my first job at seventeen years old.

I faintly recall being nervous. If there was any nervousness, it was overshadowed by my desire to fill the role of the glamorous camp counselor that I carried with me from my days at summer camp. As a twelve-year-old I remember looking up to Deana, Ashley, and Katie and thinking how cool they were and how much I wanted to impress them, to be them. Now I was their age and I could be that person who was admired and revered.

I showed up to work that first day wearing pressed khaki shorts, navy polo shirt, ankle socks, and tennis shoes. Somewhere in my head I expected all of my campers to be sporting similar outfits when they showed up, as if an outfit mimics a personality. Little did I know.

***

The emergency radio crackled to life next to my pillow and I heard someone say,

≥Lacy, are you awake?≤

Sunlight from the morning sun poured into my tent as I lifted the mosquito netting from around my cot and reached for the radio.

Pushing the black button and holding the radio up to my mouth I said, ≥Yes, Iπm here.≤

The voice was that of Robyn, the camp director and my boss.

≥Meet me in front of your campsite. Iπm driving up there.≤

My clock, sitting on the dusty, concrete floor of the four-person platform tent read 7:03AM. The breakfast bell would not ring for another hour. What did she need to talk to me about and why was she driving up here to do it? I briefly thought I might be in some sort of trouble. Maybe one of the other counselors had quit the night before.

I did not bother changing out of my makeshift pajamas of torn wind shorts and t-shirt before walking out to the road. The gravel crunched under my flip-flops and I barely noticed the orange peels littering the ground at my feet.

***

Girl Scout personnel policies state that a camp counselor should be eighteen years of age and a Unit Leader should be twenty-one years of age. In my case, some exceptions were made.

Being extremely short staffed, my camp director Robyn hired me for the job of camp counselor at seventeen not only because she needed staff, but also because I was qualified. My qualifications, though useful, would not prepare me for what I encountered during the third weeklong session of camp.

By that time, two staff members had quit and left Robyn short of her required number of unit leaders. The last day of session two ended, and the time came to find out our assignments for session three.

My name was called as the unit leader for a group of campers coming to learn how to sail. They were our oldest campers with ages ranging from thirteen to fifteen. Their unit leader would be only two years older than they were.

***

My group of campers arrived and I quickly found that they covered the spectrum of teenage girls. There were the popular girls, the first-time campers, the girls who had obviously ≥developed≤ quicker than others, and the ever-present homesick camper.

When I met her, Ashley struck me as the camper who was unwillingly sent to camp by her parents. She had been to camp before but felt this summer she was ≥too old≤ for camp. She was tall and athletic with curly blond hair that was black at the roots. She wore too much make-up, as if she had often been told she looked older than her age. I could tell by her loud voice and the way she stood tall with her arms folder over her chest that she was outspoken and somewhat socially aggressive. Within the first five minutes of camp she was complaining of heat and asking if she ≥really had to participate in camp activities.≤ I quickly labeled her as the ≥troublemaker≤ of the group.

***

Campers staying at Camp Green Hill range in age from four to sixteen. Most campers come from the Corpus Christi area and many have been coming to camp for years. One week costs about $200 and for those that cannot afford it, a scholarship program is made available.

During my two summers as a Unit Leader, the majority of my campers were great kids who left camp smiling and ready to get home to the land of television and flushing toilets. Occasionally I had campers from families of divorce or single-parent families.

Ashley did not quite fit the mold of any of these other girl scouts. I have never again worked with a camper like Ashley. I may have labeled her as the ≥troublemaker≤ of the group but I never had a good reason why she deserved this label. I never gave Ashley a chance to tell me what was wrong. Every child should be given a chance to share their true selves with the world despite any labels they may attract.

***

A few minutes went by before I heard the sound of Robynπs black truck coasting up the hill. Because these girls were the oldest in camp that session, they were placed in the campsite farthest away from main camp. Not only did this arrangement present the girls with a bit of freedom and privacy, but it also gave them a source of constant complaint: a half-mile walk up and down hills to get anywhere.

Robyn pulled up next to where I was standing and remained behind the steering wheel.

≥Did you know that you had campers out of camp late last night?≤ she inquired with a straight face.

≥I did? Where were they?≤

I instantly felt the redness of rage rise up in my face. I was supposed to be the picture perfect counselor. Were these girls purposefully trying to make me look bad? How could they leave camp after lights out and goodnight? Why did I not hear them or see their flashlights?

≥Ashleyπs father called me this morning on his way to pick her up.≤

I was completely shocked! It was only Tuesday. She had arrived on Sunday and none of the campers were picked up until Saturday.

≥She and some other girls snuck down to the dining hall and used the payphone. She complained to him about homesickness and not having any fun. She asked him to pick her up today. Tell her to pack up her stuff,≤ she said solemnly. ≥Iπll take her down to the office≤

***

≥Ahoy Mate!≤ was the name of the program that Ashley had signed up for. Not only did these girls participate in everyday camp activities such as swimming, arts and crafts, cookouts, and hiking, they also spent a significant part of each day on the lake learning how to sail. Each camper toiled through the south Texas heat to learn the parts of a sailboat and how to put it together.

Our first day on the water was Monday. We spent part of the morning putting the boats together and the rest of the day on the water. Because we were at the dock all day, our lunch of sandwiches and chips was brought to us. The girls quickly ate as I persuaded them to drink more water and then followed the sailing instructor off into the lake again.

By 3:30 in the afternoon, the girls were exhausted and still had to make the half-mile walk to their tents. We stopped at the dining hall for a restroom break when Ashley began to complain about being hungry. She asked if she could go into the kitchen and get a snack.

I explained to her that campers were not allowed in the kitchen but that dinner was at 5:30. And besides, we had just finished our snack before walking up from the dock. Ashley was fifteen and liked to questioned authority. She immediately became sarcastic and accused me of trying to starve her. This was followed by complaints of sickness and threats of vomiting on the floor until I finally let her have a few saltine crackers and an orange.

I knew that none of the girls had been drinking enough water and Ashley looked paler than the others. I assumed it was all a skillful act put on by a disrespectful camper. Ashley ate her snack as we walked up the hill to our campsite, littering orange peels along the trail.

***

As I hurriedly walked away from Robynπs truck in the direction of Ashleyπs tent, I became more frustrated with her. How could she do this to me? Did she really think that complaining about the heat and missing home was original? I started speaking before I sternly knocked on the wooden tent post.

≥Ashley, are you in there? Time to wake up and get dressed girls. Ashley, pack up your stuff, quickly. Your father is on his way. Girls, you can help her. Robyn is waiting out front.≤

Each of these words came out of my mouth thick with accusation. Sneaking out at night and using the phone were forbidden to campers. She seemed to break the rules just because she had been to camp before and longevity gave her some sort of authority. My furor only grew toward her as I walked with her to Robynπs truck after she very quickly packed up her weekπs worth of belongings. I remember saying to her, ≥So, you snuck out last night, huh? You know you arenπt supposed to use the phone. Why did you do that?≤

I never gave her a chance to answer me. The look on her face as she climbed into Robynπs truck is something I will always remember. Her blond, curly hair was messy from sleeping and her eyes were no longer filled with a pubescent attitude and hatred for summer camp. They were filled with disbelief that her wish to leave had come true and an eerie look of fear that she was going home.

***

As I think back on my experience with Ashley and how little I paid attention to the signs, I am not regretful. I know that being part of that experience taught me to be an open-minded person, skillfully observant and supportive. The events following Ashleyπs departure from my campsite I found out second-hand through Robyn and the camp nurse.

After Robyn left the campsite with Ashley, I woke the rest of my girls and got ready for breakfast. Breakfast came at 8:00AM and by that time Ashley was already gone. Robyn asked Ashley questions as they waited for her father. She asked questions about why Ashley wanted to leave camp, questions about school, and eventually transitioned into asking questions about home life. Ashley became very quiet and answered few of Robynπs questions.

Robyn then used a tactic she had learned from her many years of camp experience. She asked Ashley if she could answer any of these questions in writing. Part of the reason she did this was to get accurate documentation as to why a camper left Camp Green Hill early. Robyn also did this because she had noticed Ashley was a picky eater and had a hunch that she might have an eating disorder.

It was through this writing that Ashley talked about not only her trouble with anorexia but also her parentπs not-so-amicable divorce. Like many children of divorce, she bounced back and forth between her parentπs houses every other weekend. Ashley also revealed to us that her relationship with her father had turned sexually abusive. I believe that Ashley released all of this information on paper because it was so much easier for her than telling us face-to-face. It was not until after the fact that I stopped to wonder why Ashley chose to call her father if he was in fact sexually abusing her.

As if in a horrible movie, Robyn read these last words about Ashleyπs relationship with her father just as she heard him pull up in front of her office. I do not want to imagine what it must have been like to look into the eyes of a man sexually abusing a child in your care, and before you can ask questions, before you can get help, he has taken the hand of the child, led her to his car, and driven away.

***

Learning from my mistakes is not an easy thing to do. Learning what a sexually abused child with an eating disorder looks and acts like through those mistakes is something I never want to do again.

During her two days at camp, Ashley had not been eating meals or any food other than the saltine crackers and orange I gave her. She also snuck into the kitchen and stole an orange the night she called her father (eventually littering the peelings in front of our campsite where I would later stand).

Ashley was the first person with an eating disorder I ever encountered face-to-face. It had never crossed my mind that an eating disorder could be involved. The realization was like a slap in the face. I was very hard on myself and felt that I should have known about her illness, even though I had never had any experience with it in my life. Unfortunately, I did not have the chance to help her.

Since that summer I have learned what signs and symptoms to look for in a person who might have an eating disorder and how to talk to them about it. Ashley opened my eyes to this knowledge and I have since been able to help other people with eating disorders. Each time I am thinking of her.

Authorπs Afterward

When I began writing this paper, amazingly it was not hard for me to recall the events of that summer four years ago. I chose to write about Ashley because she taught me so much about teenagers and eating disorders. She was such a dynamic person and the events in her young life were so heartbreaking, that I am forever emotionally attached to her

The hardest part about writing this paper was not getting lost in the drama. I could have easily made the paper so dramatic, so emotional, that I would have lost my purpose. I wrote this paper to tell my audience what I had learned from Ashley and how that experience had changed me as a person. I know that I struggled with authenticity but, in the end, I like this story because it pulls at your heart but is still believable.

Tying my paper together is the image of orange peels. I did not have to go far to find that picture. The orange peels are so vivid in the paper because they were vivid at the time. I think the peels work as a theme because I did not have to try too hard to write them in. Orange peels against the background of dirt and gravel create a strong image. I hope that the image carried throughout the paper and did not come off as superfluous.

The first of three papers, the personal narrative fits into my larger work as the paper where I am written into the story the most. Since this paper, I have been able to pick and choose where to write myself in that would be most beneficial to the story. My character was essential in this story but I learned to pull myself back and write myself in only when necessary. If I were to write this story as a Profile Narrative, I would pull myself out of the story and highlight Ashleyπs character. So I think this piece established the role of the author and how we would use that in the two later pieces. It also created a comfort zone that we could not back out of therefore easing us into the Profile and Comprehensive narratives where we would get to know people and places on a deeper level.