Dear First-Time Camp Parent,
He’s home.
He lumbered into the house six feet taller, malodorous sleeping bag unceremoniously shoved into the suitcase, utterly destroyed Chuck Taylors swinging jauntily from his backpack.
He came home sunburned and freckled. His hair is just a bit lighter. As predicted, he did not trim his nails. I wonder how long he’s had that paint in his ear.
He lost seven shirts along the way, but his water bottle and siddur both made it home. I say “see-door,” as I always heard the word growing up. He says “sitter,” with the comfort and familiarity of a Jew who is on friendlier terms with his prayer book.
While he was gone, I noticed him wearing tzitzit in a lot of the camp photos. When I saw those pictures, I was pleased — and, I admit, maybe just a little bit nervous. Who is this boy with this Jewish tradition that he didn’t learn from me? I later heard, though, that campers got points toward prizes for wearing tzitzit. I think he maybe got a slushie?
He also came home with questions about tefillin (intrigued) and opinions about the moshiach (unconvinced). I haven’t heard his Hebrew since he came home, but I bet it sparkles.
In many ways, welcoming a child home from camp is like welcoming someone we don’t quite recognize. Who is this young man who meets me eye to eye? What does he think about in those rare moments of stillness?
At other times, though, I’m reminded that the more things change, the more they stay the same: he’s still counting on “Fun Cereal Mondays” and saving up for a BMX bike. He still leaves wet swimsuits in the middle of the floor and parks his bike immediately in front of the door so you have to feint left to avoid crashing into it.
The impression that camp makes on a child is too deep to affect the passing youthful folly. (Alas.) After all, this is a person who climbed mountains, swam and ran, faced unexpected fears, asked difficult questions, laughed, joked and worked through complex problems without us, his parents. Finally getting a bullseye on the archery range doesn’t teach a kid to put away his socks. But it does teach him that it’s worth it to try new things and that it feels good to succeed at something hard.
Character development is a lifelong project, and I don’t expect our son, newly arrived home from camp, to show the fruits of it just yet.
I’m a product of Jewish overnight camp, and a great devotee of its potential for impact. I give OSRUI, my own camp in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, much of the credit for who I am and what I do today. So, I’m unsurprised that the Foundation for Jewish Camp reported Jewish overnight campers are 94% more likely to feel a strong connection to the Jewish community. I’m not just unsurprised — I’m betting on it, and no small amount of money either!
My dear first-time camp parent: I would bet that you join me in wondering why a child mature enough to be shipped off to another state is not also mature enough to put away his laundry without being thrice reminded.
But I would also bet that you are seeing the subtle changes in language, behavior and bearing that hint at growth beneath the surface; the questions that suggest they’ve been pondering big ideas for weeks; the rare moments of stillness.
I won’t have any sage advice for you next summer. We’re in it together now. We have sent our children off and away for their own adventures and made it through to the other side.
Baruch Hashem. He’s home.
Until next year,
Second-Time Camp Parent
Third-Time Camp Parent
