We are far more complex than just our personal belongings, yet they provide a window into our world and the experiences and memories we hold close. When working with leaders in a residential setting, whether it be student leaders, junior counselors, or seasoned educators, I use an observation exercise where the participants are challenged to look around the room and build conclusions about the people who inhabit the space based on what they see.

As I write this I’m sitting at my desk in my home attic office where I’ve been taking phone calls, holding video chats, and answering emails as I collaborate with the year round team and build relationships with our summer staff. To my left I have a lamp I made from an old milk bottle filled with granite stones from my yard. Directly in front of me, is a wooden canoe model with an illustration of an aerial view of Brown Ledge right behind it. To my right is a cut-out of a pine tree in a section of salvaged wood from Toots Shor, the dining hall at Camp Deerwood, where I spent eighteen summers. There are several other items: like two Lego vehicles, Kelly and my wedding picture, and a ceramic bowl given as a gift from a former student. All of these things have a story, and put together, tell a story of me. I love that the campers at Brown Ledge make their cabin space their own. They hang up fairy lights, tape pictures of loved ones to the wall, and adorn their beds with stuffed friends. I will challenge our cabin counselors this summer to see those things, really look at them, begin to think about what they represent, and use them to start a conversation and create deeper connections with their campers. They have four weeks to not just learn their campers’ names and hometowns, but to really find out who they are in an effort to then guide them to make the most of their Brown Ledge experience.

I feel extremely fortunate to have landed at BLC. I knew Brown Ledge was an exceptional place when I applied, but I had no idea it was as special as it is until I lived it. My step-daughter, Sierra, also experienced BLC for the first time this summer as a camper.  There were many things she gained from this experience, but an important one is a bond we now share over our love for camp. She reminded me at dinner the other night that I got teary eyed at the first Chapel. I vividly remember being moved by the speeches from the JC’s, not just by the experiences and love for BLC that they shared, but knowing that indeed I was joining a unique and powerful community. And so my greatest challenge right now is having to wait until June. I’m eager to start our 99th summer! Of course, there is much work to be done to prepare and I am grateful to be working with such an experienced team that is deeply passionate about Brown Ledge and its mission.

As Dean of Students at Dublin School (NH) I started each school year sharing How Full is Your Bucket? For Kids. It’s a story about how kind acts can bring contentment—filling your bucket. I plan to share this story at camp next summer. Certainly, kindness and compassion are critical characteristics of a thriving community. Brown Ledge is no different than my previous communities in that way, yet how we live and embrace those ideals is itself unique at BLC. I genuinely believe that the relaxed pace, the support of a multi-generational staff, and the acknowledgement that failure is part of the process provides our campers with a premier experience. It’s a message I intend to spread far and wide.

On my desk between the illustrated birds-eye view of Brown Ledge and the pine tree from Deerwood is a small copper pail. A reminder of how full my bucket has quickly become as the incoming BLC Camp Director.

– Brooks Johnson