Growing up, I loved summer camps, no matter what kind. I would beg my mom to send me to Camp Orkila, where all the cool kids went, on Orcas Island in Washington. I went to single-day cooking camps at the local community market. In the first grade, I began attending Camp Coyote, a place where I made best friends — and so many s’mores — year after year, eventually becoming a counselor myself. Then, of course, there were the Mormon summer camps. Yo…