9th Grader Chidera O. Reflects on Her (Rainy) Outward Bound Expedition
Each year, thousands of students embark on Outward Bound expeditions without fully knowing what they’ll face or how much they’ll grow. Behind every program are instructors, school partners, and staff who believe in the power of new experiences, compassionate guidance, and time for reflection. As educators, we often talk about trusting the process, believing that even the smallest moments in the wilderness can shape a young person’s outlook in lasting ways, whether or not we ever see the results. In Chidera’s case, we’re fortunate to witness that growth through her own words.
In the following reflection, Chidera shares an honest account of her five-day canoe expedition. It was a journey that tested her limits, pushed her far outside her comfort zone, and helped her discover a new sense of confidence in herself and others. From rain-soaked nights and wildlife encounters to moments of unexpected calm, she found strength in challenge and meaning in being disconnected from the digital world. Her story is a powerful reminder of what young people can gain when they step away from the familiar and into something entirely new, building trust, teamwork, and resilience along the way.
My 5-Day Canoe Expedition Reflection
By Chidera O., George Washington High School Class of 2028
My 5-day camping trip was one of the most challenging, stressful, yet oddly relieving experiences ever. Before going, I don’t think I really understood what I was signing up for, but now, looking back, I’m so grateful I did it. It pushed me out of my comfort zone in every possible way. No technology, no comfort, no dry socks… just nature, rain, bugs, and a canoe I was scared to even get into at first.
At the start, I was honestly terrified. The idea of being on the Delaware River in a canoe made me anxious, especially because I had no experience and didn’t trust myself not to flip over. But little by little, I learned to feel okay on the water. I got used to the rhythm of paddling, working with a partner, and even started to enjoy the peacefulness of the river. The wildlife was unbelievable too. I saw two or three massive eagles’ nests, five bald eagles soaring above us, six turtles sunbathing on logs, a few geese, toads, and even a raccoon. Thankfully, there were no alligators.
But make no mistake, this trip wasn’t easy. It rained almost every single day. My tent had water seeping in from the sides for at least three out of the five nights, which meant I was constantly sleeping in wet, cold clothes. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of wet socks when you’re already freezing. And with no way to dry anything, it just became part of the daily routine. We didn’t have access to showers, toilets, or even deodorant. It sounds awful, and yeah, it kind of was at the time, but it also made me appreciate the little things I take for granted daily. My bed. A hot shower. Clean clothes. Even just the ability to be warm and dry.
Being completely disconnected from my phone was a huge shift, too. No internet, no social media, nothing. At first, I kept reaching for it out of habit, and I would even feel vibrations in my pocket just to realize that my pocket was empty (I was really having withdrawal symptoms), but after a day or two, I realized how peaceful it was not being glued to a screen. I started having real conversations with people around me and connecting with nature. I got to know my group better and made new bonds that I don’t think would’ve formed if we all had phones to hide behind. I had to push through homesickness and just sit with my thoughts. That’s rare for someone my age.
Not many people my age get to have an experience like this, and honestly, not everyone could handle it. It takes a lot of courage to keep going when you’re exhausted, soaked, and missing the comfort of home. But somehow, I did. I learned how to work as a team, how to take care of myself and others, and how to be okay with being vulnerable.
Whether it was dealing with bugs crawling into the tent, getting blisters from paddling, or just being mentally drained, I kept going. I missed a lot back at school during those five days, but what I gained out there was something no classroom could have taught me. I walked away from this trip with more independence, stronger friendships, and a deeper appreciation for the little things in life.
As hard as it was, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. I’m truly grateful for every second of it, even the rainy, bug-filled ones.