This season of my life is one that began to drastically change who I was in regards to my own emotional capacity and vulnerability. And at this point we’re entering a point in my life where I still hold a sense of reminiscence but also feelings of guilt from reasons you’ll see later on. Theres a lot of substance to the next four years of my life and there will more than likely be a lot that is excluded in the process of me writing all this down. Though all of this is still fresh in my mind, there’s still much that I am not ready to talk about. Though the reason I’m writing this is to better process parts of my life and figure out why I am who I am, these memories still contain feelings I feel incapable of facing at this moment. So my closing statements to this introduction are for you to please be kind in your responses and if you are a part of these stories, I love you greatly. This time in my life contains some of the more dark and challenging times in my life so before we continue, I love you and I wish to care for you and about you. I hope this helps you to better understand me as I try to better understand myself.
I graduated high school in a hectic time in my families life. The end of my senior year my sister returned from study abroad in Scotland as Mom and Dad decided to move to Brevard full time and sell the house in Piedmont. Someone had bought the house before they’d even listed it and we were set to move the middle of June. However, I’d signed up for Work Crew with Young Life and set off to Sharptop Cove on May 28th of 2016. I packed up just about everything I owned into the truck and set out to Jasper, Georgia. I didn’t know what I was in for and I didn’t really feel like I was good enough to go as I’d still been hooking up with a few different girls at the time. I also knew after that point I wouldn’t be seeing my friends much anymore since I’d be moving to Brevard after work crew. So summer sixteen began with a lot of uncertainty. Nevertheless, I got my things packed and left. The drive was the most nerve wracking part, like I just mentioned, I had this feeling of being unworthy from what my past year looked like. At the same time I was hopeful because I knew I’d have a chance to get away from it all for the next three weeks while I washed dishes. Though nothing could prepare me for what those next few weeks held.
I got to Sharptop with all kinds of thoughts running through my head, one that I couldn’t really help was what girls I’d be meeting. But before I could focus on that I had to check in and move into my room. I got there and turned in my phone and got my work crew shirt. At the same time I met my “boss,” Jesse, for the first time. He had called me a few weeks earlier to introduce himself and to tell me what job I had, but this was my first time seeing him in person. Jesse was a welcoming guy who was eager to meet me but I could tell he was a little nervous too. Jesse is a latino from Fort Worth, Texas, and not only was he my boss but he was my roommate with a handful of other guys. There were two others on work crew that I knew from back home too, Willy G and Kappy. Kappy was a wild child in her own right and carried the energy in every room. Willy G was from the same school as Kappy and he worked with me in the dish washing Pits. He was our personal GQ model, Mr. Nice Guy and always seemed to get along with everyone. So it didn’t take long for us to find each other and start talking about how awkward it was to be around 90 something people we didn’t know but would be working with for the next month. When the first dinnertime rolled around we’d met a few others, like Amanda, a girl from Greenville YL who vibed with Kappy pretty well and always seemed to be the loudest in the room. There was Austin, our hipster king who looked like he just walked out of a surf shop in San-Fran. Of course we can’t forget about Chris, a phenomenal artist who had a knack for throwing playing cards and making us laugh with the few things he said. And I wouldn’t be able to write about people on work crew without mentioning Emma. Florida girl whose sass regularly irritated me, but somehow we still became close friends. Then there was Luana, the Brazilian queen whose attitude could kill a man if they got too close. Theres so many I could write on and on about, but we’ll meet some of them along the way.
The first few days were tough to get used to. The camp hosted around 700 people and it was the “Pits” job to wash all the dishes from every meal. This included all silverware, plates, bowls, cups, pitchers, kitchen utensils, and everything in between. So on an average day wed be washing over 20,000 things. But that was no problem for our Pits team with Jesse in charge. There were 7 of us total. Jesse, Willy G, Corbin, Morgan, Porter, Kendrick (aka Gooby) and Me. Together, we were a team to be reckoned with, solely due to the way Jesse led us. He was the hardest worker of the group and was constantly encouraging each and every one of us. We all had our specific jobs and Jesse made sure we were always doing ok and if any of us ever needed help or a break, he’d selflessly take on our load to give us that time. Not only that, but Jesse took the time for all of us in between working to get to know us as a group and individually. Within the first week we’d already spent a majority of our free time in between meals sitting together telling our life stories. Most of the guys were adamant about telling their stories and I was surprised at the diverse backgrounds the other guys came from. Not only that, but a few of them even admitted they’d also felt unworthy coming to camp to serve, which I resonated with a lot. I was the last one to tell my story to the guys. I’d been nervous about it all week thinking about what I’d tell them and what I’d keep out. I was never one to talk about my life to my problems openly, the closest times were those nights around the camp fire at L’s, but even then it was all surface level. But the circle finally came down to me and the fear of retribution held my tongue at first but for some reason that weight had been lifted. I talked for probably an hour or so, pretty much confessing just about everything I’d done and felt guilty about over the years. I talked about my life and how I’d felt unworthy and that I’d spent my life falling short of expectations. Along with that, for the first time, I talked about my drug use and the double life I felt I had been living. I expressed frustration with my parents and the emptiness I’d felt in the relationship I had with them. All this I told in conjunction with my relationship with Christ. An utter shitshow that had since gone far off the rails in the previous year, with the wreckage shrouded by lies and momentary fulfillment. This was the first time I was talking about any of this openly and it was the beginning of me trying to process it all. Yet in my fear of judgement and shame I was met with love from Jesse and the other guys, a love that I’d experienced only a few times before, the love like G shared with me back in 9th grade on those cabin steps.
The Pits became a safe haven for me during that time. A place where I grew in a Christian community for what felt like the first time. The 12-13 hour work days became therapeutic for me. I told my secrets to the steam that floated off the hot water and to the grime of the plates I washed down the drains. And with every dirty rack of dishes I passed down, some hurt went along with it. I had an abundance of emotion bottled up since my childhood and finally felt like I had a chance to process it all.
When the third and final week rolled around I felt like I’d become a different person. I’d gone through so much in my head and out loud trying to make sense and peace with it all. I felt like I could breathe deeper because of it, I knew it sure as hell wasn’t coming from that steamy ketchup water! But by the time the third week rolled around there was still a big issue that I had yet to come to terms with. The relationship with my parents. I talked a little about it before, how I felt emotionally distant from them. My family, in the words of John Mulaney, was one that bottled up everything with the expectation that one day, we’d die. And in reality that’s how I felt. I had this pride about me that expected me to just be a man. One that was strong and without emotion that would do his job and be able to stand up and fight when needed. This was a pride I carried with me for as long as I could remember and was lost in translation with mine and my parents relationship somewhere along the way. I felt so prideful in my own respects and in my own ability to fix myself that I’d completely shut out the people that had supported me and had tried to love me my whole life. The pride I had for myself had made it seem as if Mom and Dad had messed up somewhere along the way. When in reality it was me the whole time, I believed I was strong enough on my own, that I could fix my problems, that I could find happiness and that any of my emotions weren’t directed at my parents or peers but at my own ambitions and in that idea that one day I’d just stumble upon happiness. The thing that I had put off addressing for so long was my own pride.
I was thinking through what I’d been reading in the daily devotionals and in the Mere Christianity book I was reading. Our work crew coordinator, David, had also talked about pride the night before. It all kinda struck me at once while I was washing dishes and thinking about mine and Dads relationship. In particular I was thinking about the short conversations that he and I would have in the mornings, when he would be there before I drove to school. Every time he would tell me the same thing in the morning saying, “Be humble today.” And I’d always tell him, “yeah I know.” I treated my dad poorly and was blatantly going against what he was saying when he’d tell me to be humble. And until then I’d never even thought about it.
David, the Work Crew coordinator, came in to lend a hand to the pits that day after lunch, we worked facing each other and I, of course, was quieter than usual while thinking through all this. After a while, thinking and racking the dishes with David, I looked up, paused, and said “I’m a piece of shit.” David looked at me with a curious face and asked why. I explained it all to him and he said, “yeah you’re right.” We talked a little more about it and all I wanted to do was call Dad and apologize. I didn’t feel like I could go to my heavenly father because I had barely acknowledged my earthly father to begin with. I felt guilt from it all because I’d finally realized that I’d been blaming so many of my problems on the people that cared for me the most. I was just too prideful to see.
*Present day Hank here, one thing I didn’t include was me calling Dad later that night. We had call cards we could use on the payphone in our lounge so I called my Dad with the intention of apologizing. But when he picked up the phone I froze. I didn’t know how to say it, but for the first time I felt like I was talking to my Dad with my real voice, even if it was just about what was happening at camp.*
Later that week, David approached me and told me that he and the other work crew bosses felt like I should share my testimony at Work Crew night. Work Crew night was the final night of camp each week, the camp speaker would introduce the work crew, a group of about 45 of us who were all either still in high school or seniors who just graduated. Every week we’d go on stage while the campers went out to the 20 minutes that the speaker gave after the last club talk, just like I had at that weekend camp in 9th grade. We’d sing worship for them to all come back inside the club room to meet the Work Crew. We’d all go around with a mic, say our name, where we were from and what our job was. And each week 2 of us would take some time to tell our stories on the mic to the campers, who were all our age as well.
When David asked, I said no and that I’m not the one to do that. Yet he reassured me he wasn’t asking and that the work crew bosses voted unanimously. I didn’t understand why and felt unworthy of being called to do that. I didn’t do much planning or preparation either. I figured that I would just be honest with everyone. When it came time for me to speak I stared off my first few sentences by switching up my name and grade with a stutter, prompting some laughter from the crowd of 600 or so students. But with the first few words from my mouth, everything seemed to flow freely. I don’t remember much from what I said. I really only remember the ending. I quoted Matthew 11:28, “Come to me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.” And boy had I found rest.
I ended with that and was met with silence from the crowd and then applause. I didn’t want anyone to cheer for me because it wasn’t me they should be cheering for. Nevertheless, I had found a sense of peace and rest amongst all my guilt.
The following day, Jesse sat me down to talk thru the month and just to have some bro time. Jesse had become a brother to me and a true mentor. And with the month coming to an end I was afraid to go home and that I’d be returning to my old life. Jesse assured me that returning home would be hard to do but that I’d have to move on. He encouraged me in telling me that he was proud of how he’d seen me grow and that he felt like he saw drastic change, though I felt otherwise. He told me even though we were all going home where we’d all be spread out across the country, that he would still be there for me. I never felt like I’d had someone so invested in my life/walk with Christ other than J. Over that month I’d made friends that I still love dearly today.
I’m grateful for the time I was given during work crew. And am even more grateful for the grace not only shown by the others there but more importantly by the Lord. Though summer sixteen had just begun, it felt as if it was ending as I went back home, where my first week back was actually spent at Carolina Point for summer camp, an uneventful week that I was blessed to have, where I could process Work Crew before I headed home fully. Upon arriving home I still felt the need to apologize to my Dad but was never able to muster the courage to do so. Though I was almost brought to tears on seeing my whole family together after we’d all moved into the house in Brevard.
The remainder of the summer was spent getting ready for my sister and I to go to college at the University of South Carolina. My sister had come back from study abroad the previous semester and would be moving into a new apartment. And I was moving into a dorm for my freshman year. There were only a few times where I took the time to visit people like Blake, P, or Jade so a majority of that summer was spent on the mountain.
My orientation wasn’t long after my return from camp and is where I’d meet one of my best friends for the first time, Anna. I wore a subtle Young Life shirt hoping that I’d be able to find someone else who was involved in Young Life. To this day Anna will say that I tried to ignore her when she came up to me but in reality I was just nervous being around so many people and just didn’t know how to act. Anna came up to me to introduce herself and asked if I was in YL. We hung out a little that night but that was about it. They had put us up in the dorms in Patterson that night and I figured I’d never see her again. But the next day we coincidentally ended up in the same orientation group towards the end of the day and even registered for our first classes together. But not without my sister sneaking into the classroom first to help me pick out classes, where she’d meet Anna as well. My sister liked her a lot and after Anna and I got each others phone numbers, we got to know one another over the summer til we both moved in.
I had no idea that Anna had a boyfriend at the time until she randomly said it amid conversation after we’d both moved in. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping she liked me over that summer, because I definitely did and honestly still do a little. Either way, she was my first friend at South Carolina and she was there for the sea of craziness that was the first two weeks of college, a time that I still desperately wish I could forget.