SAM Camp

A couple of years ago, I saw an ad for music camp. Now at the time I was just ramping up on the whole pay for kids' summer camps, so the idea of adult summer camp was truly a pie in the sky idea. It was the most self indulgent fantasy a homeschool, stay at home, and very practical mom could have. Except that I live in the half fantasy, what if, pie in the sky world. I couldn't let go of this idea. Dulcimers, banjos, and guitars oh my! And as luck would have it, I had recently acquired a mountain dulcimer. Of course I should go to camp.

I did not go to camp. I went ziplining instead. I didn't go the next year either. Even though I carted the dulcimer up from FL to NC. I kept talking myself out of it.

This year, in March, I said I just might go, but when June came, I sold the dulcimer. After all, I'd had it three years or so, and had done very little playing. The purchaser seemed nice enough; I was remorseful, but not devastated at the rehoming endeavor. Naturally, that meant no camp. Again.

Or not. Because four days ago, I stood in the lobby to register myself for camp. Beginning Fiddle, Folk Singing, and flat footed dancing. Please note, I have 0 experience with a violin, unless I count that one time I held a violin at Bluegrass night on the Marietta Square before we moved. I sing in the car a lot, but am very careful to only sing near safe people, because it hurts my feelings when people are too helpful or tell me to hush. Finally, my two formal experiences with dancing are the ballet class I begged to quit when I was 8 and more recently, a casual line dancing class with summer friends. I do love that line dancing class, so flat footed dancing it was.

It turns out that Music Camp is about so much more than music. Thus far this week, I have heard a couple of hundred years worth of regional folk lore. The other day, I listened to a 79 yr old man describe the lawlessness of the region in his grandfather's time. About the relations. The music. A child learning the ways of the time. The way he spoke of a music jam crossed from music into social commentary. I don't even know if he knew the gold he presented. Old time music isn't about the music per say, it's about the listening. With little formal music instruction in the region, many musicians play by ear: without a conductor and without a script. I love to watch them lean into one another to hear and watch where another is headed and adjust accordingly. I cannot help but think this is what we must do outside of a jam circle. We must hear and watch. The musicians take turns. They make room for one another.

But as a never tried the fiddle before participant, let me tell you, that is hard. Some of my classmates don't seem to have any problems with this, but I'm struggling. I'm trying to hear and see, and I feel like I'm a little kid trying to keep up with the big kids. You are My Sunshine never sounded so complex, but I'm trying.

In addition to the structured classes, there are master concerts. These 1 hr sessions are led by noted local artists and/or scholars. The facilitators share their passion for their craft, and the audience meets it with an open heart. It is intense in that room; I am sure I am not the only one that experiences eye leakage. The reverence is humbling; we sit or stand with anticipation for knowing and understanding. We cross a bridge together.

This week, I'm singing, dancing, creating, and failing. I'm showing up and exposing parts of my heart that rarely see the light of day. I don't know where in life the other participants are, but I know I'm wrestling with both my fear and longing. I'm showing up. I'm screeching on that fiddle, and occasionally crying because it's hard and humbling, and that's what I do. I fall, I rise, I dust myself off and try again. I sing a little louder every day. I dance as if I knew what I was doing or didn't care if anyone saw me mess up. Neither of which is true.

SAM Camp as they call it (Sounds of the Appalachian Music Camp), is about more than music. It's led by a patchwork angel and other assorted cast and crew. There's a wide age and skill range in participants. It's messy. It's hard. It's amazing, and I'm already planning for next year.