Unscrewed- quite the title for a recollection of my time spent as a “Leadership Intern” with the Camp Invention program over a week this summer. If you knew how many god-forsaken screws I loosened, you’d understand. Thinking back on it now, I know this was probably good that I loosened those screws instead of the six-year olds who got flustered when they couldn’t open their water bottles during lunch. Some of them should never be wielding a screwdriver in the first place.

Prior to the unscrewing of several dozen screws a day, the day as a Leadership Intern started off quiet. I’d get there a half hour early and help set up for the day’s events. Setting up included moving tables around four times before they were perfect, attempting to clean up the various keyboard keys scattered across the cafeteria floor, and filling out two name tags for each of the fifty kids.  Just a little shout-out to whoever invented nametags, thank you. I’ve never been great with names so to remedy that we put a nametag on the front and back of each kid. Best invention we had at Camp Invention.

Once the kiddos arrived, chaos ran through the small Thompson Elementary gym like a fifteenth century European plague. Luckily, Mr. Whitcomb, head Inventor, came up with the genius idea of giving the kids mind games to keep them busy for a half hour. Eventually, we’d split the kids up in half, fourth through sixth graders in one group and first through third graders in another. Usually I ended up with the younger group. They’re quite a trip.  Some days I was thankful all they were given to cut with were safety scissors other days when the safety scissors couldn’t cut through cardboard and I was called upon to help, I wasn’t so thankful. Not to mention the fact that some of them can’t read well was at times hilarious. I was always taking them for bathroom breaks, and this one little boy, who was one of the younger ones, accidentally walked into the girl’s bathroom four times over the course of a week. I felt bad for the kid, really I did, but yet again it was one the most hilarious things that happened.

The morning was somber compared to the mayhem that we considered lunch. When the kids arrived in the morning, they all put their lunches on this cart and we would put them in the big refrigerators in the kitchen, pretty simple system, right? Not in the least bit simple. Due to the absentmindedness of parents and children alike, half of them couldn’t remember what lunch was theirs. The parents weren’t helping either because they couldn’t put a simple name on a lunch bag.  I had one kid who could never remember which lunch was his. Took us three days to figure out to put it in the same place everyday so him and I would remember.  After 20 minutes of hard searching and success of finding lunches, the other counselors and I would get a well-deserved lunch break.

Once the mayhem of lunch had softened to a dull roar with a sprinkle of chaos, the groups would go and invent with the Take-Apart items they had brought.  This is the part in the day where we would realize day after day that some of these children shouldn’t be given tools that could inflict harm to themselves or others. The older kids didn’t need much help, can’t say the same for the younger kids. As expected, there was a hand in the air or a kid following me wanting assistance every minute on the minute. I really didn’t mind loosening screws for them, but once I had stripped the screw so badly it wasn’t even considered a screw anymore, I was the one throwing the temper tantrum. If I couldn’t loosen a screw, I would usually have another counselor do it before I threw a screwdriver. A couple of the afternoons I was recruited to go help with the low-key projects in the teachers’ lounge. Those afternoons were a counselor’s dream.  Along with every afternoon came with the panic-attack inducing snack time. Snack time was somehow ridiculously more organized than lunchtime, but where there is a pro, there is a con. That con would be the fact that some of the snacks were not in the designated snack box but in the lunchboxes in the fridge. Fantastic.

Then that part of the day would come that I had secretly kept an hourly count down for each day and that the kids hated. That part would be when they were picked up and the counselors got to try out the experiments the kids would be doing the next day. We also cleaned up after the kids, which was just gross. I think each generation of kids just gets grosser each time. I hope my generation wasn’t that disgusting.

Other than the fact we went through sixteen rolls of masking tape, hid in the library during snack time to get away from the chaos, and had to tell several kids several times to, “Leave the lights on in the restroom!” I think everybody had a blast. Sure we all complained and wished we could put a kid in a corner for an hour, but we all learned valuable leadership skills and now know how to properly wash and bandage a finger without making a kid cry even more.