Reflections from the Shores – Frank Kaplan’s Sermon

There was a Kawaga Brave that called me back in October of this year. This was a phone call I was not expecting but one that I needed more than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire life. This brave is a man that I was in a cabin with my first year at camp, a man that I shared my love of waterskiing with as a camper, a man that I canoed with for 6 days on boundaries, a man that I’ve shared all my secrets with, a man I’ve cried to, a man that has seen me at my highest, and at my lowest, but someone who respects me and who I respect with every bone in my body. A long time ago this was not the truth, but as time passes, things change, everything changes. 

My name is Frank Kaplan, and this is my 10th summer at Camp. 10 years ago, I was sitting in this rec hall on this very saturday listening to a sermon just like you all, however, there was a lot different about the surrounding area compared to now. Chip lodge that we all know had yet to exist, there was a porch on an entirely different mess hall we used to eat in, there was a riflery range on D2, the rsZest had not yet made its way into camp, and our current director wasn’t even here. That is all different now. Change happened, lots of change. And change happens, lots of change. 

I hated change. I have always been someone who loves to control the dynamics of a situation, actions of others, and my own emotions all at the same time. This is impossible. There is only so much you can do as one person, and there is way more out of your control than is in it. At camp, I would hate to sign up for clubs because that meant I had to change my mental schedule for the week, I disliked Visitors Weekend because it meant I was likely switching cabins, and I even loathed leaving the ski dock because I had to change my clothes. Once I was zeroed in on something, I was fully invested in that task and did not want to leave it. It was such a big part of my life and affected my day to day so much that I still can remember these feelings many years later—it was a source of my anxiety and struggle that lasted for a while. My discontent for change remained constant until one summer when I was forced into one of the larger changes in my life.

My family was moving across the country. I would leave for camp from Michigan and arrive back in Arizona. I had to say goodbye to my childhood and open a new future in a desert thousands of miles away from the place that I knew for 13 years. I was upset, frustrated, and confused on why this had to happen, but there was one thing that stayed the same, and that was Camp. That summer I made real connections here as a first time 8 week camper. That summer was marked with so many memories that I’ll never forget, but one thing really changed for me after those 8 weeks. Nothing in my life was constant, except for camp. Camp became my new home. I genuinely would tell people that Camp felt like home more than any other place. It was the only thing staying the same, with my best friends, people I could rely on, and the opportunity to grow and live without any restraint on who I was. As camp ended that summer and I returned to Arizona, my fears of change only returned. Camp had become the only place I could be at where I felt normal, like myself, and somewhere without this change. Funny enough, camp had changed for me in that way. It was no longer just a place I went to joke around, play sports, and build some new friendships for 4 weeks. It was a stronghold of my personal peace, our cheers and traditions rung true to my character more than anything I could imagine at home, and visions of Kawaga, for the first time, remained in my mind during the entire school year. I remember sitting in my 8th grade history class, bored out of my mind, day dreaming of the feeling I would have the night of my first all nighter. Amidst all the change, Camp kept me grounded and reminded me of who I was and what I could do despite many challenges. I would think, “If I can make Sachem, I can do this”. And that very thought carried me through navigating a new state and community with ease. That’s when I became comfortable with the change. Camp empowered me to do that, and I have only begun to understand that many years later. 

As I reflect, I realize that Camp brought so much change to me, but in such a way that taught me to appreciate it, and take it for what it could teach me. When I think about what has changed for me outside and inside of camp, there is a surprising contrast. Every year at home, I had the same goals: have a successful school year and get good grades, make the hockey and baseball team, and call it a day. But, at camp, my goals and ideas of success have changed, and as those have developed, so has my character. From simply making new friends, to making my first sachem, to being a part of the water ski team, to achieving double sachem, to then leading camp as a CIT with my best friends for life, my vision of camp and its purpose for me every summer morphed into something new each time I returned. Looking back, it is almost as if I can replay each summer like an episode to a mini series about how my years went by—growing in character each year as camp and I changed for the better. 

As I moved into my years on staff, a whole lot more continued to change than I could ever imagine. Solomon Kwartowitz, my best friend who is the reason why I am standing here today at Camp, decided to step away from the shores. Luke Marcantonio, another childhood best friend who I introduced to this place had put an end to his Kawaga journey. David Werstler, the kindest hearted human I will ever meet, said his final goodbye’s to us with a letter and I have yet to see him since that summer. The people began to change a lot, and the environment of camp as a camper was fading and my days of serving camp had begun. This time, I wasn’t afraid, but ready to take this change in stride. In my mind, Kawaga started to fade away from the title of “Summer Camp” and began its place in my life as a year-round constant. As staff, many of us work during the offseason to guarantee the success of many areas of camp during the summer, and when I began doing this kind of work, Kawaga started to build a permanent place of residence on my conscience. I wanted to be the one changing camp and thus I approached leadership roles to do so. I was then the one controlling the use of change, rather than hiding from it in fear—I can guarantee you all, if it weren’t for camp, I would still be hiding from change right now. 

Even though I have been talking all about what has been different and changing this whole time, some things will always stay the same, and you will have to rely on them to get you through the things that are changing all around you, and I promise you there is a high chance all those constants can and will come from camp. The way you wake up every morning and the mindset you approach life with should be constant, your disposition to others, the smile you put on your face while walking around camp or school even, the tone of your voice, the choices you make to stay healthy, and choosing to take care of your friends and family are all things you can remain constant in a world full of change in order to best prepare yourself for what the day has to come. I learned to do all of those things consistently, every single day, because of camp. I grew to treat my age group like true brothers, keeping them responsible, laughing and crying with them, solving real life problems along their side, and finally becoming a unit with them all where I felt incomplete without a single one of them in the future. That will forever be a constant in my life, the group of 2022 CITs that I get to call my brothers until the day I take my final breath. I know that the way Evan greets me with a smile, Tyson’s ability to stand his ground, Levine’s unwavering determination, Griffin’s honesty, John’s stoic demeanor, Jason’s goofiness, Jayden’s loyalty, Meyer’s deep thoughts, and Oogie’s wisdom ALL WILL NEVER CHANGE, AND THAT IS SOMETHING I CAN COUNT ON. 

This brings my back to that phone call I received. This was by far the biggest period of change and challenge in my life, and Ethan Kaufmann caught me in the midst of it all. That random check in with Ethan turned into a daily call which lasted about 3 months until I was able to pull myself out of this ditch in my life where I felt like I was never going to escape. It doesn’t matter what happened to me or what Ethan did, what I want you all to know is that Ethan was there for me each and every day and he became the one and only person I could rely on during such a hard time. He didn’t hesitate once to be there for me. I will forever be grateful for the time and support he gave to me during those months and I owe him my lifelong loyalty for the service he did me.

Again, it was Camp that brought me Ethan when I needed him most and serves as a prime example on how Kawaga has become not just a summer thing for me anymore, but a 24/7 365 ordeal that I will proudly carry with me for the rest of my life.

As you all get older, more in your life will change, physically mentally and emotionally, and the ways you are able to overcome that change will be to rely on your constants. And the best way to do that, is build your constants here at camp. That is what camp is really for. Build those friendships that will be with you during the hardest months of your life, not just when you’re having fun at camp. Build a constant positive attitude and healthy habits this summer to carry you through change during the offseason. As I sit here finishing up my sermon in Marshfield Clinic at 3:19am, a lot has even changed for me in the past 5 hours, from thinking I was going to sleep in my bed, to chilling in a very comfy chair in the back of the emergency room. But, I am leaning on the constant drive I have to take care of you all and make sure you leave camp in the same or better condition than you arrived. With that constant by my side, no level of change can take me down. So I urge you all, build your constants, lean on them, and use this summer as a means to do so. There will come a day when Camp starts to bleed more and more into your lfie outside of Minocqua, and I urge you to start building that foundation for a strong connection to last even as you inevitably spend years away from this place in the future. I care about each and every single one of you in this room, and let’s build our constants together this summer. Thank you.