Home is Where Your Summer Camp Is

Every year, even now, as the sun warms the rain soaked trees, I start to feel the anticipation of summer camp rise. I feel it at some place deep in my bones- it’s almost time for starry nights, campfire laughing, and friendship- authentic, true friendship. Not everyone understands the magic of camp. Some assume it’s just a fun place for kids to get outside and be active. Let me try to share a small piece of what really goes on at summer camps.

My first powerful experience at camp was as a teenage camper. My best friend and I went to a high school church camp. I was a pretty reserved teenager. I had great parents and a friend group that was generally nice, so I didn’t expect to be so changed. I didn’t realize how desperately I needed some space to grow and a chance to be free from the assumptions and reputation that surround a person who has been with the same peer group since Kindergarten. I wouldn’t have called myself exceptionally insecure, but what teenager doesn’t lack confidence, doesn’t question if she has any talents worth sharing? Even though I had a home community who celebrated who I was and regularly tried to build me up, eventually most of us assume it’s just their job to tell us those things. Then, there I was with complete strangers- yet they were noticing good qualities in me! Maybe there really was some goodness in me, some beauty in me. I had no idea how much I needed to hear these kinds of words from people who were just beginning to know me. In one week, I had made several lifelong friendships. Friendship is one of the most valuable treasures of our lives, yet I am struck by how rare a true and deep friendship is for some people. Why does friendship flourish at summer camp? It’s a question I’ve pondered a lot. I think part of the answer is grace i.e. a mysterious gift. Also, summer camp allows for a lot of unique possibilities to come together: the ability to live in the present moment, the opportunity for a clean slate, the humanizing state of sharing a bunk bed with diverse people you wouldn’t otherwise socialize with, the obligatory trust that ensues when the normal habits of coping with vulnerability are taken away, small moments of everyday living that create moments to practice forgiveness in a safe space, as well as, there is just something about shooting stars, campfires, mountains and lakes that lends itself to shared moments of profound connection.

Fast forward to my first year of college, and through divine inspiration, I was now working at a summer camp. Once again, I had no idea how this place would shape the next 10 years of my life. Each week, on Sunday, I would have butterflies in my stomach wondering which girls I would be gifted to have in my cabin. Every Friday, after final hugs, I’d return to a quiet cabin and wonder how it would be possible to allow another group of girls into my heart. Surely this week was special, surely these girls shared something unique- the way this one created a unique song and dance for the lip sync; the way that one, while being so competitive, stopped to help someone from another cabin; the one who adamantly let us know she was forced to come to camp, yet said inspiring words during our last night’s candle light ceremony; the one who opened up about the wounds she held from her home life; the one who took so much persuasion to try every single activity but then surprisingly claimed she had the best week and wanted to return on Sunday; the one who covered her insecurities with false confidence but then allowed the girls to comfort her when she got scared on the overnight. Surely, there would be no week that could match this week. But soon, it would be Friday again, and I would return to sweep an empty cabin wondering the same thing.

Because I got to experience so many summers at camp, there was another magic I got to witness: the magic of campers growing up. A camper from the previous summer would return to my cabin with a new scar or two from the harshness of life, or, sometimes, with a new maturity or self-awareness. I began to see how many children wait all year for their one week where they can be in a place where they are loved for who they are; how many children cling to their memories from camp during the times when life gets too hard. The general narrative I hear out in the world is that kids are a burden. Many of them take this message into themselves, assuming they must really be a burden until they can grow up and prove otherwise. At camp, they aren’t just told that they are a gift to others, they experience it. They find out, before proving anything, they have worth. They experience, before making themselves shrink, that they are loved and have a place here. They find out that their presence is a blessing to other people. Together, we would climb mountains, literally, we thought were too high, but with the help of every cabin mate, we would finally reach the top with a new confidence that maybe some other metaphorical mountain wasn’t too high either.

My heart breaks that summer camps across the nation are being canceled. It will be difficult, if not impossible, to recreate the unique situation only camps allow, but for the sake of those kids who think they are a burden, let’s change the narrative. If you can’t safely send a kid to camp this summer, get them out in nature, show them they are capable, give them their dignity by showing them their presence is a gift to others. We’ve got some serious mountains to climb right now, let’s climb them together, even if at a distance- and maybe sing some camp songs while we’re at it.