Goodbye Belvoir

Tonight would have been my first night at camp. I attended the same performing arts camp, Belvoir Terrace, for eight summers. Part of what has allowed me to be a flâneur this summer is the fact that I have outgrown camp, literally. I will miss everything and everyone so much. This summer I hope to find that same freedom of creativity and knowledge that I enjoyed annually at Belvoir.

Cottage 2010

             I can remember the red, white, and blue of the flag that proudly boasted its loose frame above the verdurous plane. A sighting of an American flag is not exactly a novel sighting. The trademark of this country, the flag has become a kind of wallpaper, imposing its vibrant colors anywhere it can. But the flag on Cliffwood Street is different, well, it is for me, and I think it is for any other girl diagnosed with the Purplitis. The American flag that sits on a hill at Belvoir Terrace contains four colors. Though the fourth is not visible to the mortal eye, it is no doubt there. The flag at Belvoir Terrace, our flag, is comprised of red, white, blue, and purple.

            The shiny black gate that surrounds the camp should not be mistaken as a barrier, though it physically creates a wall between camp and the town of Lenox. The truth is that no method of blockage could keep the girls of Belvoir Terrace confined, our thoughts and our creativity are far too big. The world that Nancy and Diane have created is far different than the one that exists beyond the black gate. It is a world concentrated by creativity and art, and is dominated by smart, talented, and totally fabulous women. I was fortunate enough to call this world my world for eight years.

Belvoir Terrace, yes, that is where I went to camp

From the time I was nine to the time I was sixteen, the shaded rolling hills of the Berkshires gave me sanctuary from the concrete jungle during the hot summer months. The safety of Belvoir allowed me to take risks in my activities and in my friendships. I can still recall the sick feeling in my nine-year-old stomach, the one that spawned from my realization that I was leaving my parents for a large duration of time for the first time. I boarded the camp bus unsure of what would come from this camp that was somewhat discerningly different from the kind of camp I always had imagined myself attending. I never even thought that a camp could be a world, but Belvoir is. I dipped my toes into every aspect of the Belvoir world. I danced at Dance Night, I sang in the Jesup, I drew in the Green House, I wrote on the lawn, and I keeled over in laughter with my best friends on the tie-dye couches of the Cottage. But the most important thing I did at Belvoir was grow up. 
            The Fourth of July at Belvoir was always one of my favorite times as a camper. From Square Dancing to Banana Splits, the day never ceased to entertain me. This summer will be my first summer celebrating the Fourth of July without my family, my Belvoir family that is. I always felt that the Fourth of July was not just a celebration of American liberation, how could it be with such an internationally diverse group of girls. The Fourth of July, to me, was a celebration of Belvoir, and the freedom it gave to each and every person that inhabited it during the summer months.

The purple in the flag is invisible to anyone who never attended Belvoir Terrace. It will, however, always be there for me, as I remember my Belvoir home and Belvoir family.

Happy summer and Happy Fourth of July to Belvoir Terrace summer 2011!