“According to Aristotle, ‘the meaning of life is to enjoy yourself. If you stay honest to the things you want, your life will feel much better,” – Francine (She/Her/Miz)
In rural Alberta, Canada, there is a summer camp but it’s not the type of getaway you probably have in mind. It has many of the elements you would associate with a traditional summer camp, but at its heart it’s much, much more than that. It’s a space where queer and trans youth can belong with one another, can find joy in belonging to their bodies, can find their place in a world that so often tells them that the way they are is wrong, is shameful, and should not exist.
Camp fYrefly functions as a haven and, in Summer Qamp, you get a real sense for how valuable a space like this is for young people who grow up in a world where being cisgender and heterosexual are not just the norm, but the enforced norm. At Camp fYrefly, LGBTQ+ youth feel less alone. For many of them, the week-long getaway is the first time they’ve shared space with fellow queer people. They become more comfortable with who they are, and are able to form relationships without sacrificing their identities to do so. Instead, they’re embraced, accepted, and affirmed. They share pronouns, coming out stories, and create a space of pure queer joy. Such spaces are so rare that to see the camp’s celebrations unfold with a sense of real joy is emotional and affecting.
Directed by Jen Markowtiz, Summer Qamp most effectively serves as an introduction to Camp fYrefly, but more importantly, it offers an introduction as to why queer and trans youth would find value in such a space like . It’s one thing to read that acceptance and joy allow kids who don’t always have those qualities in their lives to thrive. In a world that so often insists on erasing their humanity, it’s another thing to see in these campers’ expressions that there is a place that affirms that very humanity.
