20 Years of Camp Magic: The Lifelong Impact of Holt Adoptee Camp

As he heads into his 20th summer with Holt Adoptee Camp, camp director Elliot Bliss reflects on the ways camp has impacted his identity, sense of community and outlook on the world.

As I head into my 20th summer with Holt Adoptee Camp, I have been reflecting on how Holt Camp has impacted (and continues to impact) my identity, my sense of community, my mental health and the way I view the world. When I first started, I never thought it would become such an integral part of my life. But here I am, 20 years later, still showing up, still loving this community, and still blown away by the way camp continues to shape generation after generation of adoptees. For me, Holt Camp is not just a summer camp — it is another place I call home.

I have been part of Holt Camp in just about every role — first as a camper, then a CIT (counselor in training), a counselor, a member of leadership staff and, for the past few years, camp director. I have literally grown up here. I have seen firsthand how powerful this space is, not just for me, but for hundreds of adoptees who walk through camp every summer. Many of my closest friends today are people I met at Holt Camp. This place gave me a community and a second home where I could just be myself. No explaining, no code-switching, no wondering if people really understood me — because they already did. It was the one place I could always be my authentic myself.

From the outside, Holt Camp can be hard to explain. People typically imagine a traditional summer camp with campfires, swimming, games and songs. And yes, we have those things. But Holt Camp really is a space for adoptees who might be questioning their identity, experiencing for the first time a community that reflects them, or to be around others who just get it. This summer, one teen said, “Every time I come to Holt Camp, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.” Another simply called it: “Magical.” And honestly, that says it all.

I have literally grown up here. I have seen firsthand how powerful this space is, not just for me, but for hundreds of adoptees who walk through camp every summer.

Camp is magical because it gives adoptees something rare: mirrors and windows. Mirrors, because they’re surrounded by people who “get it” and reflect their experiences back with understanding. And windows, because they can look in and all around camp and see people who look like them, people with a shared lived experience. Over and over again, I hear campers say Holt is the one place where they can fully be themselves. That is what makes it special.

I have been lucky enough to watch that magic unfold summer after summer. I have seen little kids clinging to their parents at drop-off turn into teenagers and eventually into counselors leading the next generation. I have watched the ones who once needed comfort become the ones offering it. That full circle never gets old.

And none of this happens without the staff. Many of them give up vacation days, sleep and a good chunk of energy just to be here. They don’t come because it is easy — they come because they know how much it matters for adoptees to have role models who understand. Their dedication blows me away every year.

Camp does not end when the week does. The friendships and connections stretch way past our five days together. Campers keep in touch through texts and social media, staff check in from different time zones, and many of us lean on each other for support and guidance — sometimes more than our friends and mentors back home. I know, because I’ve done the same. Some of the friendships I made as a camper are still the ones I lean on today.

When I reflect on nearly 20 summers, it is the little moments that stick: a homesick camper finally laughing with their cabin, a group of teens realizing they have all wrestled with the same questions, or a counselor sitting quietly with someone who just needed to be heard. Those moments add up to something you can’t really explain unless you have experienced it — a space where adoptees do not have to explain themselves and feel like they belong.

Every summer is bittersweet as campers I have known for years age out of the program. I have seen them grow up here, and now they are stepping into the next stage of their lives. For some, that means returning as counselors. For others, it means carrying pieces of camp with them into their own communities. The impact doesn’t end when their time as campers does.

Twenty years in, I can say this: camp isn’t just a week each summer. It is where adoptees find community, connection and understanding. It is another place that we can call home — and where we are reminded that we are not alone.