Alyson

I thought the only problem I was going to face at camp was living outside of my head. I had this fantasy about attending California State Summer School for the Arts (CSSSA), for almost a year, and now it has trespassed into reality. As it would happen, that wasn’t too much of a problem after the first 12 hours I spent here. But another thing gladly filled its mold.

I have never had a problem making friends; I know which buttons to push and which ones to avoid. Apparently, that’s not enough. One of my last naïve ideas—that art school would be different—is now shrinking, just like I am from the massive cliques that grow like tumors all over this campus.

I see the same girls sneaking off with the same boys. There are also the three girls (four would be “too mainstream”) with the leader who I like to call Enid Coleslaw. The groups based on ethnicity, they pretend that no one else is breathing their air. What else is typical: me, observing it all.

I guess if I want this experience to be different, I should start making waves. ♦