Each day From Sunday through Friday, campers spend thirty minutes after breakfast cleaning their cabins. Later that morning, the Avodah Mirpa’ah (Infirmary) Crew visits each cabin and evaluates the level of cleanliness. After lunch, the cabin or cabins with the highest score on the Mirpa’ah checklist (usually one male and one female cabin) receives an award known as “The Golden Broom.” This announcement is usually made with a song, skit, or, in at least on instance, a soliloquy. With apologies to the Bard.

by Ethan Smilg

To clean, or not to clean – that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The dust and dirt of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of filth
And by opposing end them. To die, to clean –
No more – and by a cleaning to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. ‘Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to clean –
To clean – perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub,
For in that cleaning what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this unkempt coil,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the dustpans and buckets of time,
Th’ filth’s wrong, the janitor’s contumely,
The pangs of despised cleanliness, the law’s delay,
The insolence of the office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th’ unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat weary with mop,
But that the dread of something after cleanliness,
The undiscovered pristine floor, from whose bourn
No Avodahnik returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those messes we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus Swiffer does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of bleach water,
And enterprise of great Lysol and Clorox
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. – Soft you now,
Golden Broom! – Prize, in thy orisons
Be all my cleaning remembered.