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| Kings of the Mountain |
The
faculty at Berklee approached Max and asked him to consider taking a
position at the camp to teach guitar lessons to campers during the
summer. Along with his paycheck, he got room and board as well as use
of the campground facilities during his time off. Max never taught
classes before, nor had he ever gone camping, so he was happy to try
both of them for the first time. I wished he was going to be a little
closer to home; the camp was over three hours north, somewhere west
of Augusta, Maine. The more I watched the news about the sudden rise
in violence in Boston, the better I felt about Max taking his chances
with severe weather and wild animals in the great north woods.
In
mid-June, we packed his luggage and musical gear into my Dodge Nitro
and headed to the far north. Thanks to my GPS (and my wife’s
driving) we arrived safely. Even though the camp facilities were
immaculate, I still had reservations about abandoning my son in the
middle of nowhere. Everything seemed too perfect, from the politeness
of the camp greeters to their perfectly polished good looks. They
were all super athletic, with golden blonde hair and gleaming white
teeth. And there was Max, with his scruffy goatee and pasty white
skin with only his guitar case for protection. As I drove away, I had
visions of my son chasing my car down the perfectly groomed dirt road
screaming, “Wait! Don’t leave me here!” But that was not the
case. In fact, Max’s experience was the exact opposite.
Max’s
weekly telephone calls kept me updated on his progress as he adapted
to his foreign surroundings. Although he’s very much a city person,
he loved being immersed in something completely different from what
he was used to back home.
He
made a lot of friends with the other counselors, even though there
still exists a huge dividing line between athletes and artists. Max
was able to navigate both worlds comfortably. He quickly bonded with
Alan, a 22 year-old neuro-scientist who specializes in ceramic
pottery. Like all of Max’s friends, Alan was intelligent, talented
and living beyond the rules of classification.
Time
flew because of the camp's busy itinerary. Max taught guitar classes
every day as well as working as Camp Counselor to the children
assigned to his cabin. When another counselor left on short notice,
Max was reassigned from his group of eleven year-olds to managing a
group of fifteen year-olds. Although it was quite a challenge, he
(and the campers) survived.
At
the end-of-camp Field Day festivities, Max and his fellow art
counselors won the First Place trophy in a stunning victory over the
shocked Athletic Division. So many close bonds were formed between
campers and counselors, and between the counselors themselves. Max’s
description of the tearful goodbyes at the bonfire on the last night
of camp made me realize what a special experience this was for
campers and counselors alike. And I’ve only scratched the surface
of the stories I was told. I hope someday Max writes his memoirs of
this special summer. It was quite eventful on a personal as well as
physical level.
When
Max returned home, he was a much richer person from his two-month
camp experience. He discovered he loves to teach. He understands how
instructors can shape the lives of young people, much like the
musical mentors Max encountered when he was beginning his musical
journey. Being a guitar-teaching camp counselor was secondary to what
Max learned about being a good person, and how doing the right thing
is not always the easiest road to take, but it is the best one. The
insight he got from hearing about the lives of these children from
elite families who attended the camp was more educational than
anything he could learn in school. Max wants to return to the camp
next year to help other young musical artists find their career
paths. I have a feeling he’s going to learn a lot more about
himself as well.
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