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The biggest physical activity was the Alpine Tower, a wooden tower about sixty feet high with three different routes to climb up it. Strapped to my safety belay rope, I started climbing. Once I got about twenty feet up and looked down I was overcome by a sudden wave of fear. I stayed at the same spot for a bit, frozen, but my cabin kept encouraging me to go on, yelling “Go Jesus, you can do it!” I continued climbing and ended up making it to the top. As I was being lowered down by my belay rope, I was proud of not giving up and climbing all the way.
After the afternoon outdoor activities we would head back to the cafeteria for dinner. Every day was closed with some kind of large group activity before we would head back to our cabins to wind down for the day and rest. One of my favorite of these activities was called Cross The Line.
We lined up on one side of the large conference room and a line made of tape split the room down the middle. It was a silent activity with a moderator who would ask a series of questions. If the answer was yes for any of us, we would cross the line onto the other side of the room. The initial questions were simple and superficial but then the questions progressed onto deeper topics. We were asked to step forward if we had certain struggles or privileges in our childhood, our families and our culture.
As the questions got heavier, I felt tense. Opening up to other people, even if it was just taking a few steps, was tough at first but I continued. I realized that other people were crossing the line when I crossed. Soon, every time I crossed the line, I knew I would have support and be supporting the others who crossed as well. Afterwards, people had chance to explain why they crossed and what they were going through. We got to see that many of us were dealing with similar things and had faced similar struggles in the past. This helped me stop being defensive and open up more.
At different points in camp, there was an emphasis on healing ourselves so we could heal our communities. The elder mentors at the camp presented us the idea of healing circles. It was completely new to me and became one of the most impacting activities of the camp for me. From how I understood it, the practice of sitting in circle came from the traditions of the native people of this land, or our ancestors as the elders called them.
On one of the nights my cabin and another group gathered in a teepee. There was just enough space for all of us to sit in a coiled circle inside. We were given a small piece of string and asked to make knots on it. The knots represented things we struggled with that we wanted to let go. Some people made many knots.
I just made one knot. The elder leading the circle burned sage and copal as he spoke about letting go of trauma and moving forward. I chose to let go of my anger towards my father that I had accumulated over the years. He might not have been the best father, but he was still my father. I chose not to carry around that anger that was poisoning me inside.
