‘I’m going to America!’, I announced proudly with tears in my eyes. After years and years of dreaming of doing Camp America, I finally got my three-month working visa to work in a Summer Camp in the town of Medford, New Jersey. It was one of the happiest days of my life, and I spent the entire train journey from London back to my home town of Crawley, West Sussex, absolutely bawling to my dad about how my dreams had come true. After one failed attempt to get a visa in the early months of 2020, it felt as though doing Camp America would always be a fantasy, a ‘one-day’ dream. But after exiting the American Embassy in January 2022 I was already packing my bags for the summer of a lifetime.
Upon arrival to the United States in June, I met up with Maddie, another girl going to the same camp as me. We excitedly met at the baggage claim at JFK airport, as we picked up our heavy suitcases and got ready to make our excursion from New York to New Jersey. We took the subway into New York City and then hopped on a Greyhound bus to make our way to Mount Laurel, New Jersey. We were admiring the beauty of New York City through the window of our bus. We saw huge apartment complexes, bustling streets and an abundance of pizza shops on every corner. When we arrived at Mount Laurel, a yellow school bus, just like the ones I had grown up seeing in films, was waiting for us to take us to camp. We noticed on this bus journey that the scenery changed dramatically. It went from a buzzing and vibrant cityscape to quiet roads, with enormous detached houses lining the streets. My first thought was that it looked like the very idyllic, white-picket-fence sort of town that was portrayed in Stepford Wives. Every house we saw would’ve been worth millions in the UK.
Once we arrived at camp, we dropped our bags off at our cabin where we were to spend the next three months, and immediately went into the town of Medford to explore. It was enchanting. We walked past a stunning private beach lined with wooden lake houses with stacked-up canoes, a little independent ice cream shop which looked like something out of Stars Hollow in Gilmore Girls, and a huge golf course, with beautiful fountains and golf carts. Deer were everywhere - we saw them about as often as you would see a Pigeon in London. All of the cars that were parked outside houses were large Jeeps, Broncos and four-by-fours almost six feet tall. Eventually, we ended up at the local pub/restaurant, where we would end up spending at least one night a week throughout the summer sitting by the fire pits drinking Blue Moons. The town looked exactly like a film set, and I had never seen anything so beautiful.
As the weeks went on, we kept exploring Medford after work. We would make long walks into town simply to get a slushy from 7/11 and to feel the sun on our shoulders. We noticed that a lot of houses made political statements in the form of flags and signs, something I had never seen in the UK. The most British people do is put a Union Jack outside their house, and even then most people are reluctant to do so, afraid of passersby assuming that they are Tommy Robinson-worshiping fascists. Almost every house had an American flag planted on their porch supported by a flag pole, presenting a kind of proud patriotism that British people do not have, or at least do not overtly show (generally speaking). But this seemed to be a general American thing and didn’t necessarily have any reflection on the political stance of the residents living in these homes.
What did shock me, however, was the undisguised political statements shown on a lot of homes in the area. We saw a collection of homes with ‘Blue Lives Matter’ flags, a reactionary statement to the ‘Black Lives Matter’ movement that grew in popularity in 2020, protesting police brutality and calling for an amendment to the police and justice system in the United States after the death of George Floyd, as well as many other black Americans, at the hands of law enforcement. Some of these flags blatantly stated ‘Blue Lives Matter’ and other flags were the black and white thin blue line US flag, once again a symbol of solidarity with the police force. In the UK, people have different political views but often don’t proudly express them in their homes. Could this be that people feel comfortable showing this sort of Conservative ideology publicly in small-town America, surrounded by other people who feel the same? They aren’t concerned with any backlash or protest as this is such a common belief amongst those in the town. It is important to note that along with these conservative-leaning symbols on people's homes, there was also an array of liberal statements shown, despite to a lesser extent. Most notably, we saw a house on one side of the street covered in pride flags, juxtaposed by a house on the opposite side of the street promoting ‘blue’ lives. It seems that displaying politics is a casual thing to do in your home in the US, or at least in small-town conservative America.
We worked at a day camp, so we had the luxury of finishing at five o’clock every evening to hang out with our friends, unlike a lot of overnight camps that we knew of. As mentioned, we often liked to spend our evenings drinking away the stress of wiping bogeys and playing Red Light Green Light with campers. I was the social media manager and photographer so thankfully, I was able to leave the stressful situations as and when I pleased, but the rest of the staff body had to deal with the children all day. The good, the bad and the ugly. A few weeks after we arrived, our camp director warned us that one of the two pubs closest to our camp should be avoided at all costs. I’ll never forget the seriousness in her tone as she said with complete confidence that one of the pubs was ‘racist’. No beating around the bush, no sugar coating, just racist. It turns out this pub had often been extremely unwelcoming to international staff members in the past, particularly the non-white staff. In Britain, we are presumably all aware of the ‘old man’ pubs, which often young people would avoid due to the stereotype of everyone in there being a racist, Stella Artois drinking, Thatcher reminiscing old man. However, for a place to be defined as racist it would be completely shunned and unsupported by the public. In the US, a racist establishment is accepted and is just seen as something to avoid if you do not fit their idea of who should be respected and who shouldn’t.
We never went to that pub, and really did avoid it all all costs. Except once. We often liked to spend our evenings at the local bowling alley, as it was ‘Bring Your Own Bottle’ so it was a lot cheaper to go to the liquor store and get a few Beatbox drinks and a bottle of vodka to share amongst friends whilst bowling than to sit at our expensive local pub all night. Across from the bowling alley was the ‘racist’ pub. On one occasion, we had run out of alcohol and the liquor store had closed at ten, so we made our way to the pub to down a few shots of tequila to keep us going before heading back to the bowling alley. My friend from Poland left traumatised and sure as anything she never wanted to return. The bartender made a range of comments trying to joke with her about her accent, and even attempted to charge her more for the shot than the bartender charged me. She was visibly uncomfortable this entire time, and yet the bartender didn’t stop. It had proved everything our camp director said about the place, and we were so shocked that a place like this could exist and have good business.
When the children arrived, we started noticing the blatant racism that the local parents had inflicted on their children. On many occasions, Latin American members of staff dealt with comments of disgust about their accents and places of birth from children as young as six. Some children said they couldn’t understand the activity directors from places such as Mexico and Brazil, despite them speaking in very clear accents that every other child could understand. Children spoke down to non-white staff members like it was normal, and this reflects how their parents speak to and speak about Latin American people. The most dreadful part of this is that the children knew what they were saying was wrong on many occasions, and purposely said things to upset these staff members.
Something I will never forget was during one of the first weeks of camp, we had an end-of-week fashion show. In this fashion show, male staff members did their makeup and dressed as women, and the female staff members drew on moustaches and dressed as men. All week we were told this was going to be a ‘drag’ show, and it was marketed this way to the children as well as the staff members. Of course, it wasn’t a real drag show, but it was aimed at teaching the children that they can dress however they want, despite their gender. Seeing their idolised camp counsellors parading in skirts, although being great fun for the children to watch, made them realise that they too can wear skirts even if they are boys. At the start of the show, the camp leaders made a speech to the crowds of children that they could be whoever they wanted to be and dress however they wanted to dress, and it was an incredible message. It was a hit with all of the kids, many of whom had never seen men wearing lipstick or women dressed in more masculine ways before. I posted on social media the amazing photos of the show, showing the children smiling, laughing and dancing. I had no idea the amount of backlash this post would receive. Calls began coming in about how it was ‘disgraceful’ that we were exposing their children to this, and that they wanted their money back as that’s not what they sent their children to camp for. This was merely a two-hour activity at the end of the week, it was not a huge part of camp, yet parents were enraged. I thought about how in the UK, we grow up watching pantomimes and no one ever questions the men dressing as women as part of the show. I wonder if pantomimes existed in small-town America they would receive backlash too.
Upon speaking with American friends I had made out there, they informed me that the reason the ‘drag’ show was such a shock to parents was because conservatism was so hugely ingrained in their lives and beliefs. It is people’s strongest belief that women should have feminine roles such as teachers (that’s if they aren’t homemakers) and men have to be straight, masculine breadwinners. Women and men have been raised in these towns to dress conservatively and modestly and show no sign of gender expression. I am from a town near Brighton, famous for its Pride festival and for being the ‘gay capital’ of the UK, so it is far more common to see people dressing in ways that express their personal style, sexuality and gender. This is profoundly uncommon and looked down upon in the small town I was staying in.
In June I attended New York Pride. It was an amazing festival filled with Drag Queens, wild fashion choices, proud sexuality and gender expression and a wide range of ethnicities all showing their support. One unforgettable moment was walking down a side street in the late afternoon, attracted to it by the loud dance music coming from that direction. We stumbled upon a large crowd, and noticed that it was a huge dance circle where everyone was ‘voguing’. It felt like a place where everyone of all races, sexualities, ages and classes could be included and accepted, a place where they didn’t have to face the prejudice and discrimination they may face in day-to-day life. Of course, this was tainted by the loud and angry group of Christian Republicans holding signs exclaiming that they were sinning and that homosexuality is wrong. I had rarely ever seen this kind of overt homophobia in the UK before, as people tend to keep their views concealed, knowing if they ever express their homophobia, racism or whatever it may be, they could be fired, lose all their friends and more or less lose everything. In the United States, it seems people are proud of their right-wing politics, and feel it is their need to express it. It almost feels like it is more of a risk in US society to protest for liberal matters as the police are more likely to turn violent and government officials are more likely to condemn it. The difference between Christianity in the US and the UK is vastly different, too. American Christians tend to be more orthodox, tend to see the words of the bible as literal and see it as their mission to shut down and oppress all groups that don’t fit in with the words of the bible. UK Christians, while still existing, generally seem to use religion as a more personal comfort, and don’t use it to oppress other groups.
One weekend, in mid-August, I took a trip to Nashville. Country music has always been my guilty pleasure, and to go to the hub of country music has been my dream for years. Nashville is located in Tennessee, a famously southern, confederate, ‘bible belt’ state. I was already surprised by the conservatism where my camp was located as it was within a northern, liberal state, so I wasn’t sure what to expect when I went to an actual Republican state. One day, I woke up early to enjoy a walk around the city and explore all of the famous landmarks such as the Country Music Hall of Fame, the Hatch Show Print, and of course Downtown Nashville. As I was walking along Broadway, the famous street filled with Honky Tonks and gift shops, I felt myself being followed by a white man wearing beige trousers and a khaki jacket. I kept crossing the street and crossing back over to the other side, before deciding that I was most definitely being followed. I found refuge in a little gift shop and told the woman that I thought I was being followed, as I didn’t want her to think I was just hanging around the shop trying to steal things. I also was on my own in this city and needed someone else to be aware of my existence and my concerns in case anything were to happen to me. The woman was very kind and made me feel so comfortable asking for help, and she even stood outside the door to find the man I was describing to call the police. But before she asked me about the appearance of the man, how long he was following me for or where he was following me, anything of that sort, the first thing she said to me was ‘Let me guess, he’s black’. I uncomfortably replied, ‘No, he was white’ to which she seemed utterly surprised. I was absolutely shocked by that assumption and the way she so casually and confidently assumed that he was black. The tone in which she said it made me think that people in the South must talk so negatively about black people so often that it is normal to come out with such things, expecting no repercussions or backlash from the people they’re speaking to. I only spent one weekend there and stayed in the tourist area so can’t speak for the whole of Nashville or the South, but it was interesting that I had already seen a glimpse into the racism that underlies the bible belt states after one day there.
Finally, it was coming towards the end of my time in the US. It was nearing the end of the camp season, and to say goodbye to the international staff, a very kind American member of staff offered to have us all over to her home for a delicious home-cooked meal. She and her family all picked us up in their large SUVs from camp and took us back to her home in Atco, New Jersey. Country music blared out of the speaker on the journey, and I felt like I was really getting the ‘American’ experience. Her home was exactly what I’d picture a small-town American house to look like. It had dark wooden furniture, beautiful paintings hung on the walls, bible quotes hidden in every corner of the house, chickens in the back garden and of course, a large American flag proudly waving in the wind on top of a flagpole just in front of the porch. We said prayer before we ate, which I had never experienced in my life, and it was actually really beautiful.
As part of this day, the family wanted us to have the ultimate American experience, so they took us to a gun range where their family were members, and her husband was on the board of directors. As soon as we arrived, we went into a small building of the gun club which I assumed was where people got together to chat, drink and discuss gun business. It was a wooden building, with comfortable brown leather couches and fur blankets, and a large table which I assumed was where meetings were held. I will never forget the array of deer heads on the walls, just glaring at us as we enjoyed learning to shoot the guns that killed them. On the large table was a book about how to attract deer to your land and the best way to shoot them. This entire situation was extremely uncomfortable and sad for me, as I am avidly against the use of guns and it felt entirely wrong for me to try and enjoy learning to shoot deadly guns that are used in the US to hunt innocent animals and kill people. The deer heads haunted my consciousness as I picked up the gun and shot it at targets. I couldn’t imagine how anybody could use this weapon and shoot it at a living, breathing animal. The most interesting thing about this experience was the fact that this family came to the range once a week to shoot, and their young ten-year-old daughter was teaching us how to shoot the guns as she had been doing it since she was three. Gun culture is so engrained into the lives of American citizens that it’s simply a family hobby for them to go to the range and practice shooting weapons and to take those weapons and shoot them at deer when hunting season arrives. It is so normal out there that almost every American staff member that I spoke to said that their family go hunting every year - maybe I was ignorant but I had no idea just how common it is.
In the car on the way back from the range, the family spoke openly about how they would not support gun reform and how they believe it is everyone’s right to own guns. They spoke about how to them, liberalism means ‘minding your own business rather than trying to butt into everyone else’s business’, insinuating that they believe liberalism should mean people shouldn’t condemn people for using guns as it is up to the individual. I already knew that this was the mindset of a lot of American people, but it was the fact they spoke so openly about it expecting agreement. In the UK, it is a grave mistake to bring up politics to people you don’t know as usually there will be huge disagreements. It seems that Americans just wear their political views on their sleeve and know there will be no backlash from their words as all of their peers think the same way.
My time partaking in the Camp America programme in Southern New Jersey was a tapestry of diverse experiences, exploring social contrasts, political expressions and societal norms. The stark differences in political culture, the openness with which beliefs are displayed and the acceptance of gun culture were nothing less than eye-opening. Despite the differences to UK norms, I was met with undeniable warmth and hospitality by the American friends and colleagues I met along the way. While my narrative captures a small insight into what I personally noticed, it is essential to acknowledge the limitations of my perspective as a straight, white cis-gender female who could never understand how it truly feels to be part of a marginalised group. My experiences do, however, provide a glimpse into the intricacies of American day-to-day political expression.
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