I’ve attended three different fat camps for five consecutive summers. For four summers, I was a camper. Then I stepped it up hard core and became a counselor to overweight eight year olds whose vaginas were concealed by their corpulent stomachs. So I know a little something about them. It’s why I’m writing a memoir about Fat Camp. Lately, I’ve been receiving a host of emails pointing me to articles and books related to Fat Camp. I won’t read other books in fear that I will inadvertently lift an idea and call it mine. I’ll read memoirs, just not those having to do with what I write. I have a whole meat scale full of what to say about fat camp, but you’ll have to wait for my book to hit the shelves if you care to hear it.
I caved today and read the NY Times article titled, "For Overweight Children, Are ‘Fat Camps’ a Solution?" The article was milquetoast. It was the equivalent of telling an overweight person they need to change their eating habits. Shocking. Like they don’t already know that watching an ab-roller commercial from their sofa isn’t exactly aerobic. The parents help out when the kid returns from the bush, and they’re more likely to succeed. Shock and awe.
This article doesn’t even nick the surface. I’m still a fat camper. I always will be. It’s just that now, I’m fat passing as thin. So when I read things like, "Ms. Werth [the mother] also locks up junk food in a kitchen cabinet, and only she has the key. Lexi [the fat camp daughter] said she found that helpful." Now that’s one way to fcuk her up real good in the head. You might as well strip her naked and sharpie marker all her flaws and scream in her ear, "God dislikes you." How about not having the junk food in the house at all. Locking it up? The mother might as well sprinkle baby powder on the kitchen floors at night, to spot a rouge footprint. Believe me, once you have eating and food issues, you’ll be conscious of it for the rest of your life. You have to learn to live life without locks and combinations, to learn control from within.
June 28th, 2005 at 12:09 pm
I never got to go to a camp for fat people. I merely got made fun of through most of junior high until high school when I discovered a gym. Being fat really did suck a lot. Never would want to experience that again. The constant battle for thinness.
June 28th, 2005 at 12:16 pm
I was thin, and now I have to fight my slowing metabolism. I was fortunate to have a mom that cared about our nutrionion and never let us consume too much of anything. I had a dad had me outside mowing lawns or chopping wood or bailing hay. Balance is the key. That, and teaching your kids that a persons net worth doesn't fit into any size of blue jeans. I will definitely read your book. I thought fat camps were fictional most of my life. I'm not sure I fully understand how it benefits a child. It will be a good read, I'm sure.
June 28th, 2005 at 12:21 pm
I hate it most when children are forced to lose weight not because the parents care about their children's health, but fear for their own image in front of friends with beautiful children. What's with the crap about locking up the junk food anyway? It's like telling someone she's being punished for being fat. No wonder fat people develop all sorts of personality disorders.
June 28th, 2005 at 1:42 pm
Steph – Will your book be OK for a 12 year old reader? Or is it supposed to be young adult fiction for adults? I want my little sister to read it, but not if you are going to include lots of blow job stories.
June 28th, 2005 at 6:10 pm
I was fat until I left my parents' household. My mother had the impoverished upbringing of a refugee and then an immigrant. To her, a full kitchen was a sign of success, that her days of poverty were over. My upbringing was one full of Entenmann's cakes, too much blue cheese dressing, oversized cheeseburgers and ice cream. Today, even though it's just my mom and dad in their house, they have two stocked Subzeros in the kitchen and a full freezer in the basement. It's completely psychological.
It wasn't until I lived on my own that I began to learn about healthy eating habits. I still deal with weight issues, although thankfully not to the extent as when I was a kid.
I question whether these kids at fat camp are really dealing with their parents' issues. It's easy to place blame on the parents, but in my case I don't believe it to be misdirected.
June 29th, 2005 at 2:48 am
I am soooo looking forward to this book since I was a fat kid myself.
June 29th, 2005 at 6:58 am
Childhood obesity was the topic of a show on NPR not long ago, and the "expert" (who apparently knew a lot about weight loss and very little about the fragile psyches of children) touted the idea of locking up food like it was some revolutionary concept that would solve every parent's fat-kid issues. Please! My reaction was pretty much the same as yours. I have worked in elementary schools and have seen the kid-obesity epidemic first-hand, but I think society as a whole is kidding itself if it thinks the issue can be solved by locking up food.
June 29th, 2005 at 8:12 am
Cool new icon thing. You're pixeled out.
June 29th, 2005 at 10:11 am
Unfortunately this has nothing in common with your initial post. I just thought that I should muster up the courage to put a post up. I stumbled upon your blog this morning and damn you, it ate up about two hours of my time (in a good way). I looked at photographs that are of a life unfamiliar to me. I read posts that made me want to cry, and some that made me blush (and that isn’t easy). I looked at the face of a beautiful woman and the pain, sorrow, and tragedy that lies beneath the surface; and the inherent beauty that comes with containing such a volatile mix of emotions. You have an eye for art, be it through the camera, drawing, wine, partying, or writing.
I feel as though I'm an intruder when I write this, because…well I don't know why exactly. I looked at the smiles in the pictures and found myself wishing I was there, first as a fly on the wall, and then as a friend. I found myself jealous; and I didn't like it. Then I read the things you write and the thoughts you emote, and I felt like I knew you; or at least a part of you. Your words moved me to the point of familiarity, and that was new to me.
I guess to be fair I should at least say something about myself. I'm 26, not that bad looking (but not that great looking), I don't like entertaining a multitude of friends (I have one close friend whom I tell everything, and that's the way I like it), I like foreign films, and long to travel. I recently got married to a wonderful woman. I find myself at times, wondering why I feel as though I’ve lived too many lifetimes; everything is old, nothing new. I long to escape at times, but the depressing thing is that I don't know what I'd be escaping from. Sometimes I yearn to shake things up, to endure a great tragedy, to have pity thrown on me and to reject said pity. Other times I just want to walk the streets of a European country without knowing the language, culture, or people.
I know that I am hemorrhaging thoughts here, but I just had to post; as if I owed it to myself. If I may be so bold, if I wasn't married, I'd get in my car with a photo of you and try to find you. No disrespect to my wife, myself, or you. It's just that for a brief moment, I found myself captivated by you and your works, and I felt saddened, and it felt good (in a bad way). It's a depressed view of life, but it's how I felt. Damn, I don’t think any of what I just said may make any sense. Have you ever been asked what you'd 'rather' be – blind or def (or any other similar situation)? It's kind of like that – a morbid hypothetical situation that you postulate in order to transcend your current state and role play for a while. Reading your blog and looking at your pictures, seeing this gorgeous curly-haired, freckled skinned, vivacious woman made me postulate a hypothetical situation; role play anyone? Like wishing to be in a movie or a television show, it can't really happen, but unlike the aforementioned, you are real; and that is pretty damn cool.
Once again, I’m sorry to ramble at the end of one of your posts. I just wanted to type how I felt at the moment, which is, I guess, the most that any of us can do at times. I wanted to thank you for such an honest host of emotions, for baring your soul and your life (your means to what end, I don't know). It touched me for a moment, and it felt wonderful. Thank you.
June 29th, 2005 at 10:24 am
There ya go, Steph. You have almost a new suitor. A married one, yes, but a suitor nevertheless.
I think it's the red hair, acting as a dancing light, slowly hypnotizing and drawing them in, like moths to a flame.
June 29th, 2005 at 10:27 am
Back on topic…
A memoir about fat camp is really not the same thing as a NYT light health piece about the growing popularity of fat camps. I see no reason why the writer should have delved into the dark side of fat camp – that wasn't her angle.
That being said, the whole idea seems like a get-rich-quick scheme. These places obviously cater to privileged kids and their parents who are looking for an aesthetic solution not a long-term change in habits and behavior. Some, like Stephanie, may meet with "success", but as is evident in many of the pieces posted on this site losing weight doesn't fix what's broken inside.
June 29th, 2005 at 11:34 am
Penny,
Granted, an article is not the same as a memoire. However, I think the article came across as more of an endoresement for the camps. I know it threw in a few items about psychologists not necessarily approving of them and something here or there, but it focused mostly on one girl that the program worked for. It was almost as good as an ad.
Maybe it is helpful, like group therapy to be with a bunch of other kids with a problem similar to your own. It really is unclear to me the overall benefit of a camp or any experience unless you want it. Much like therapy, it works when you work it.
One thing I am certain of is that it is hard to change. Sometimes, one has to change from the outside in.
June 29th, 2005 at 12:31 pm
I told my parents and my middle sister, that if we wanted her our youngest to get healthy – we would all have to change the way we eat together. Just get all the shitty food out of the house. My stepmom just screamed "You need carbs to live! You need carbs!!" – even though no one had mentioned the C word. I was just talking about getting rid of the Coca-Colas and the doritos, et al. I was even willing to email them all my food diary each week since I live in a different city. Just as a sign of solidarity. But they are stuck in their little world of transfat and junk food. And my other sister is stick thin and doesn't think it is fair that she should have to eat healthy just because everyone else is fat. Our youngest sister is MORBIDLY obese. The family is in the grips of serious denial.
I can't even think about it or I want to vomit. All I can do is have them send her to stay with me for a week this summer and try to build up her self-esteem while she is with me.
June 29th, 2005 at 2:12 pm
When I read that NY Times article I thought of you.
When I was younger and not at all overweight I wanted to go to fat camp, it just sounded so glamorous. I remember seeing the ads for "weight loss camp" in the back of the Sunset magazines I read while I was baby-sitting and imagining myself being sent off by my parents for the whole summer, instead of the obligatory two weeks at camp us West Coasters would "enjoy." I say "enjoy" because let's be honest: camp, no matter what kind, is a barely legal mixture of torture and hormone induced elation, and that's a tough mixture to "enjoy" at age 12. I looked at fat camp with the same awe I reserved for boarding schools and other East Coast WASP institutions. Ah, to be naive again. I now realize how lucky I was to have a mother who didn't lock up junk food, she just didn't buy it that often. I fortunately or unfortunately saved my compulsive overeating for my early college years and was spared of the early childhood eating disorders, I've always been a late bloomer. Now at 24 years old, I still don't know a single woman with "healthy" eating habits. It's a sad world.
June 29th, 2005 at 7:04 pm
when i started reading your blog, i had no concept of what fat camps were. recently, MTV had an episode of true life where they followed some kids who had to go to a fat camp in upstate NY.. and im guessing that your experience was something like that. i thought it was great that the kids there lost weight and whatever but it was the social acceptance, and confidence that they built there that was the true story. it makes me wish i was a lot nicer in highschool cause i now realize how tough society is on "fat kids". good post, as usual !
June 30th, 2005 at 8:35 am
Steph, I really think you're glossing over John's clear adoration for you. I mean, you always imply that you would like a husband. Well, there he is.
July 1st, 2005 at 2:56 pm
What's even more interesting about John's comment is that he wrote it with a link to his own blog, which him and hiw wife write together. That's just shady all around.
July 2nd, 2005 at 12:18 pm
I knew this would happen (he says while actually laughing out loud alone by the computer). Sometimes there's a failure in the synapse between your thoughts and what comes out; especially in writing. I am a very happily married newlywed, that while still harboring an appreciation for the beauty (and talent) of the opposite sex, in no way am I attempting to 'come on' to Stephanie. I was trying to say that her works, her writings, her photos, and the general feeling that she conveyed through them all is what made me feel the way that I did. It made me introspective for a moment – a needed moment, and I appreciated that very much. I'm glad a few people got a little rise out of it, that was not my intention and because of that I want to convey (again) that I meant no disrespect to Stephanie, my wife, nor myself. You can be sure, however, that I bookmarked this page and will visit often!
July 6th, 2005 at 2:14 pm
wow…a book about fat camp? i would totally read that, as i feel i've always been on the edge of being overweight. it's a lot to take control of all that!
August 4th, 2005 at 7:01 pm
Hey there,
Just saw this link and wanted to add my two cents. I wrote the piece about fat camps in the NY Times, and I know of what I speak: I spent 6 years at fat camps, two as a camper and four as a counselor (including Camp Kingsmont and Camp Colang–so our paths may have crossed, Stephanie.) In fact, you can read about my experiences in my book "Teenage Waisland: A Former Fat Kid Weighs In on Living Large, Losing Weight and What Parents Can (and Can't) Do to Help," which was published by Public Affairs on June 13. (I also published articles on fat camp in the now-defunct Mademoiselle and Spy.) I write extensively about my experiences at camp and I interview lots of kids, parents and camp directors. I am also very critical of the camps, and yes, I talk about the 'black market' of food and the $10 hoagies and raiding the kitchen and sneaking out to Grand Union and weighing ourselves on meat scales and spending hours fantasizing about what we were going to eat 'once we get out of here.' The point of my NY Times article was to make parents aware that they need to help their kid when she or he comes home. They can't expect their child to maintain their weight loss without any extra help. My piece in the paper was simply about one girl's experience–and the fact her mom was instrumental in helping her lose weight. Would I want my mother to lock up junk food in a cupboard? Absolutely not! I'd find the nearest ax and bust the door down in two sexonds. My mother used to hide food from me, and it infruriated me. I write about this in my book, as well as my grandmother refusing to let me visit her in Florida beacuse I was too big, and a whole host of other fun things. (I am looking forward to reading your book, Stephanie). Just wanted to clarify–and to let you know that I prefer my milquetoast with lots of butter.