Needed: Your Camp Stories!

Loved-loved-loved Girl Scout & church camp. Was never homesick. I was always happy to have an opportunity to “do something,” as we were fairly poor and didn’t go places the kids today get to do.

Being away from parents. Out in nature. Having responsibilities for the rest of the camp. Sing-a-longs. Campfires. Smores. Every kid needs to go to camp – away from their parents!! Fond memories.

A few years ago my then eight year old daughter went to Girl Scout camp for a week. She and her friends decided not to change their socks the whole time.

I loved the fact that they took their freedom in both hands (feet?) and decided to exercise it by being kids.

With so many good memories of her time at the camp, the socks are what she’ll tell you about first.

I first went to overnight camp when I was 7 (for a week) – my mom still tells the story of how most of the other kids were crying and clinging to their parents and I ran right up the trail yelling “Ok, bye!” over my shoulder. She said she was a little afraid right then that I would never want to come back, and she was partially right – I continued going to camp as many summers as I could. Even today, I’m a counselor, and I get a kick out of watching all the things kids do all by themselves (especially when they think the counselors aren’t watching) – stuff like evicting the creepy-crawlies from the showers, making their own meals, and establishing and enforcing “cabin rules”, even making their own beds! Not to mention nature hikes, swimming, capture the flag where (gasp!) it is possible to go into the woods for HOURS without being in direct sight of an adult (We can still hear them, of course). A lot of these are firsts for campers and I can only hope their families encourage these steps toward independence when they return home, just like my mom did.

When I was 8, our school sent us for a week to a “farming school”, something that’s very fashionable for urban kids over here.
We were so busy learning to make our own bread, weaving baskets, feeding the animals, tending the gardens and orchards, milking cows and foraging the nearby woods, we didn’t have the time or the energy to miss our parents.
We had a night-time treasure hunt, that ended when someone took out a walkman with attached loudspeakers (no idea where he hid it till then), and we all stuck leaves and clothing to our flashlights, shaking them so we simulated the coloured lights at a nightclub. It was about three in the morning when everyone was accounted for and back in bed. I don’t recall anyone finding the treasure…

I went to multiple church and boy scout camps every year since I was 8 (BSA since 11). Then years later I worked at some of them. Let me just say it’s great to see FRK addressing camps. They had changed so much that I had a hard time working at them. Overprotective, full of structure-by-the-minute, 10x as many rules and much heavier consequences for breaking them than when I attended as a kid. They had for the most part turned into babysitting camps.
I hope my experience isn’t common. But I suspect it is. Free Range Camp Kids… What a great, overdue, idea!

2 Summers ago I sent my daughter to sleep away camp in Wyoming, we lived in Maine. She flew out to Wyoming with her Grandfather who drove her to camp and dropped her off. He was visiting family 40 mins away from the camp so I was supposed to not worry. She had the best time of her life. She will never forget it and she begs every year to go back. Even though she traveled with her Grandfather she wtill felt like she did it all on her own. She is convinced she can fly anywhere alone and has no need for someone to “watch” her. At camp she learned to ride horses and shot guns….thank God for those Wyoming conservatives! The horseback riding I would have done with her but I am not sure she would have been shooting guns anytime soon. She has a tremendous respect for these wepons now and she understands the danger and nesscesity. There was a change in my little girl after her camp experience and we are so thankful we were not to afraid to let her go.

I never went to sleep-away camp when I was a kid, but I did spend extended time with my mom and dad, primitive-camping all over the country.

I had responsibilities… it was my job to figure out where in the campsite to pitch the tent, my job to go out in the woods and find firewood (this was when it was still ok to pick up wood for burning)… which required me to be able to identify and avoid things like poison ivy. Often, on these wood-gathering forays, I found onions, dandelions, and other edibles that I’d pick and we’d add to our dinners.

I learned about the stars, I learned to watch and interpret the weather. I learned to build a fire by myself and prepare a meal for my family. We fished, then cleaned & ate the fish we caught. I learned to identify trees, plants, tracks. I even learned how to use a map, since we’d get in the car, and my folks would say, “We’re on vacation, YOU tell us how to get there” – and I’d have to navigate us from Colorado to California.

The point of this, as it’s a departure from the counselor-led experiences of other readers… ANY experience that gets a child out of the safe and snuggly confines of their living room is a beneficial experience.

I went to church camp as a kid, and I would love nothing more than to go back!

As a teenager, I worked at Girl Scout Camp. Now, looking back, we probably could have given the kids more freedom than we did, but I think we gave a good bit. Girls were responsible for their own clothes, waterbottles, swim gear, etc- do you know how rare that was for many of them? THEY chose their outfits, packed their bags, and kept track of their things.

We also played with FIRE. Literally. We taught 6 year olds to light matches, gather wood, light fires, use knives, and cook! (and they LOVED it).

Girls also led activities. Every camper loved to lead a favorite song or teach a favorite game. Older girls, (over 10) routinely led and assisted with camp activities.

I think that camp is also an incredible learning experience for the STAFF. I was 16, and I had babysat for about 2 years prior, but that is nothing compared to working at camp. I worked at Day Camp, and there were 15-30 kids in my unit with 1-3 staff, each week. I had to know them, care about them, corrall them, teach them, guide them, feed them, etc etc. I had to learn to interact with parents at bus stops, co workers, the director, council staff- and all for about $250 a week. I dealt with tears, vomit, blood, ambulances, lost camper drills, lost campers, water search drills, fires, etc. I can only imagine how many adults think that was “too much” for a 16 yr old.

The four summers I worked at camp were some of the best of my life, and every summer I wish I could be back.

I am a working parent. I sent my kindergartner and second grader to a YMCA camp (not sleep away) for 3 days/week last summer every week.
They learned (not by anyone teaching them) to put on sunscreen and bug spray. It worked out for me since when we went to the pool on our off days they could do this themselves. They learned to ask each other to spray their backs. They learned to keep their wet towels and suits in another compartment of their bag than their dry clothes. They learned to put their socks in their shoes or they might not find them.
After camp I had them empty their bags, hang their towels out on the porch etc so we wouldn’t have smelly bags in the morning.
It taught me not to do these things for them because I didn’t need to.

My older brother had gone to camp, and I was so excited when I turned 6 and was officially “old enough” to go. Camp was 4 hours away from home, we took a bus up there, and I didn’t know anyone else that was going. So yes, I was 6 years old going away to camp for a week without knowing a soul. And I was thrilled. My mom still tells the story of my jumping on the bus with my suitcase, and not even looking back to say goodbye because I couldn’t wait to go (and yes, I had a very good homelife 🙂 ). I spent the week in a cabin with new friends, horseback riding and swimming every day. I went back every year until I was 14, sometimes with people I knew and other times trusting that I would meet new summer friends up there. It was awesome, and a defining moment of my independent life.

When I sent my first son to camp at 12 years old, my parenting skills had to grow up. 🙂

I went to sleep-away Girl Scout camp for a week when I had just turned 7 or 8 (can’t remember!). It was my idea–and I loved it.

This is hard to explain, but I’ll try–

For me, the outdoors was always my own place, away from the rules and structure. I decided which direction to go, what to touch, what activity to do. So, in hindsight, camp was like a whole new place to explore and make my own. Sure, there were plenty of rules and a schedule to the day, but they were mine to learn, follow, and enjoy.

I got to choose my own activities–canoeing, archery, swimming, drama. The woods and river felt like brand-new territory, different from the vast territory I’d explored around our home…alluring. Magical.

I was a great swimmer. When I told the counselors how many Red Cross swim badges I’d earned, they smiled and said I’d need to dive in and prove I was telling the truth. I did, and I still remember the feeling I had when they said I should take lessons with the 10- to 12-year-olds that week. I’d stood up and proven myself, and it felt great.

Hilariously, my mom says that camp was pretty cheap and rundown–she says she felt awful leaving me there. It was in southern Georgia. Snakes and mosquitoes ruled the place. (I knocked more than one snake on the head with my canoe paddle.) But I thought it was pretty close to paradise.

– lea

Two or three camp stories from the ’50’s and ’60’s:

1. I worked (for free) at a day camp for inner city kids. The place had NO BUILDINGS!. Way out in the woods, pit toilets, etc.. There was a partially finished house (floors and roof but no walls, plumbing, electricity) that we could take the campers into if it was raining really hard. Once each session, on a date chosen at the last minute to make sure it would not rain, we did a sleep-out under the stars with the campers. This was heavy-duty stuff for these children, and it involved staying awake all night for the counselors to reassure the kids and make sure none wandered off and got lost. The campers loved this camp; every year we had a few try to come back who were too old. We also had a few for whom the camp represented a chance to avoid gang recruitment.

2. My own Girl Scout camp experience: living in tents, outhouses, and (most exciting of all) having to evacuate when the creek rose too high.

3. My daughter’s GS camp (now we’re in the ‘early ’90’s). I was late arriving to pick her up; she walked down the road to me crying her eyes out. I thought, oh no, it didn’t go well. Wrong; her first words were, “Oh Mom, I’m crying because I had such a good time.” Complete with not combing her waist length hair for 2 weeks.

Just one thing to add. The camp my daughter goes to also give their staff — usually girls and women ages 17-22 a lot of responsibility and experience. They are basically running the activities and cabins and mentoring the younger girls — it’s just as great an experience for them — and the competition for spots as counselors is always very tough. I have been extremely impressed with the maturity, creativitiy, fun, nuturing and organizational ability of these young women — many of who started as campers there when they were 8-11.

My son didn’t go to summer camp because they don’t really exist in Germany. But last year he went with his class to the “Schullandheim,” which is very similar. It’s a large camp house in the country. There is a working farm associated with the house and several different trails for hiking and exploring including a muddy, boggy trail. Kids sleep on bunk beds, six to a room without adults (the teachers sleep in a separate room). Parents aren’t allowed; each class is accompanied by two teachers plus the Schullandheim staff.

Fifth graders between here and Munich go to the Schullandheim from Monday to Friday. Each 5th grade class in every school has a designated week that they go. In the mornings the kids do activities as a class, such as a hike or help on the farm. In the afternoons and evenings they can choose their own activities (soccer, American football, drawing, reading, board or card games). On one of the nights there was a flashlight hike and the kids baked cookies on the last day. My son loved being able to sleep in the same room with 5 of his friends. The boys had nightly competitions to see who could stay up the latest. My son enjoyed being able to choose what he wanted to eat from the variety of foods offered. He also learned that wet and muddy clothing and towels dry better and keep the clean clothing clean and dry when they’re put outside and not stuffed in his duffel bag.

My son is looking forward to 8th grade, when his class will go to Austria for a week of ski camp.

I’ve always said that someday I would write a book entitled “Everything I Ever Needed to Know About Life, I Learned At Summer Camp”. What exactly did I learn? Well, I learned a lot of the same stuff everyone else did, like cooking over an open fire and how to tie knots. I also learned some specialty skills like how to jump horses bareback, that a lot of folks don’t usually get to do at camp. But the most important lessons were the type you don’t read about in the glossy camp brochures. For instance, nobody cares if you don’t like the food, you eat it or go hungry. Mean girls get the best care packages (in other words, life isn’t fair). Sometimes the fun of breaking the rules is worth the inevitable punishment. At the end of the day, those mean girls are your friends.

I had always been afraid of razors, one week of shaggy legs and horrendous girl teasing cured me of that forever. I learned how to pack myself for 2 weeks away from home without consulting my mother. I learned that bee stings aren’t that bad and that a sore throat shouldn’t stop you from participating. I learned how to play hearts and euchre; how to raid someone’s cabin (and how not to). I learned that sometimes life isn’t fair for adults (counselors) either. I learned that honey goes well on saltines. I learned that girls my age were having sex, and that they could be both mature about it and safe. I learned that llamas spit, peacocks are obnoxious and horse manure really isn’t that bad.

Growing up, the best weeks of my year were those few magic summer moments spent away from my family and having the time of my life.

Summer Camp… I LOVED it!!
I started going to camp when I was 6 and went every summer for at least 4 weeks until I was 15
I went the year I broke my arm when I was 10, with a cast, that was the year of the most incredible food fight I have ever enjoyed.
I went the summer after my Mother died when I was 12, being back at camp helped me. My Father was unsure about sending me then, but I came back happier .
Summer camp is awesome, every kid should try it at least once.

The first time I went to overnight camp I was 11, and hated it with a passion. I wasn’t homesick or anything, but we were forced to do things as a cabin, and my cabin only wanted to do arts and crafts, while I wanted to play softball or go canoeing.

In any case, I tried again a few years later, at a completely different camp where you could do your own activities, and without a doubt it was the best experience I’ve had.

In school I was always the quiet, never-talking, shy one. Camp helped me learn to bond with my cabinmates, open up to other people, get out of my shell. We played softball against other camps, pelted each other with paint covered sponges for wargames, watched fireworks on 4th of July, and were able to explore different activities we wanted to try. Without camp I never would’ve learned how to waterski, know what to do when the canoe in front of us got struck my lightning and my canoe-partner freaked out, or felt comfortable talking to different people.

After 8 weeks there, I cried when I got home – not because I missed my parents, but because I wanted to go back to camp.

I went there all the way through college (and became a counselor), and even to this day, I still think about it constantly. There’s a few people whom I became close with that are some of my best friends, and I’m convinced I’m a better person for having attended.

Did eight years of one-week sessions of a church camp plus a bonus week as a volunteer dishwasher there for the 3rd-4th grader session. Too many camp stories to tell, but to answer your question…

* I learned about the birds and the bees. Somebody had left a bloody tampon in the cabin garbage and the boys discovered this — we were like 12-13. So Bob, my counselor, explained things that we likely should have been told in health class by then but had not been.

* My daily life at home was not that happy, or in my opinion; my family could hardly be called compassionate. Camp got me out of their clutches for a week so I could be -me- for awhile. Granted, culture shock was getting back home since they had no idea what joy I’d been through plus had left all of my chores alone for me to catch up on. But this is important: I attribute that week that I looked forward to every summer from ages 11 to 18 as what saved my very life if not my mental health… and I did indeed think about it daily, even reciting the camp’s name first thing in the morning as the goal that I had to get me through the day.

* I met my first real girlfriend there. There were a LOT of flaws to the person which I didn’t know about, but you don’t know what to look for or look out for when you’re 15. (When she moved in with me at 19, I found out what I hadn’t known about… suprise!) Point being, camp introduced me to the concept of love being more than just holding hands and flowery talk, though that is mostly what we did.

* I’m not promoting any sort of spirituality when I give you this part: Camp was where I felt closest to my beliefs; I may have gone to church every Sunday but I didn’t feel much connection to the people or the deity there, but when I was at camp I could actually see and feel what all the talk was about. I still consider myself a “Camp Christian” rather than the standard variety, though I haven’t been to camp since I graduated in 1986. (And I still keep up with a friend or three from the camp years.)

* Final thought, summer camp granted a little bit of responsibility and growth that school did not. I think a lot of that is how camp was voluntary to attend while school was compulsory, but there was more doing what you should be because you want to rather than because you were told/demanded to. Things were scheduled yet soft enough that if you wanted to skip something you could without having to make up an excuse and not get much static about it; this didn’t happen in school, usually didn’t happen at home, and surely wouldn’t happen once we hit the world of work and haivng families.

Camp was where the heart was.

Having read everything posted prior to my report now, I am inspired to add an anecdote:

My first day of my first summer at camp, I did what I thought people stereotypically did at camp… I’d packed a pocket knife, and I wanted to whittle. No one had shown me how, and I managed pretty quickly to put a huge cut into my left index finger. I didn’t wig out, I just bandaged it up. Adults would have claimed it required stitches, which may have been true. The big scar is there and once in awhile I can feel the injury, but I look upon it as a learning experience, that I did something fun in my life and I have a sort of tattoo in that scar to remind me.

I might have been homesick that first day of that first year, the day I cut myself, but I think I bled that out with my injury since every day after that that week I was happy, and from that week on camp was something I valued and looked forward to… you’ve heard of homesick while away? I learned to be campsick while at home. And that one pushes a knife blade away from one’s body when carving, not toward. 😀

I was never a camper, but I was a camp counselor for many years in both Alaska and Arizona. My first year ever as a counselor I was just barely 18 and right out of high school. It was a camp that had a ‘ropes’ challenge course. I am not a small person. I’m 5″7′ and at the time at least 150 lbs. (There’s a point to sharing these embarrassing details I promise) 🙂

As part of the ropes course, we had to do trust activities and I did them with the kids. They begin on the floor and you progress to doing a trust fall off a table to be caught by the campers. I am not a trusting person by nature. I couldn’t even do the floor exercises, which is bad for the kids to see. So the head counselor sent me up to the table. 15 – 20 girls lined up to catch me facing each other arms stuck out to break my fall. I fell. I screamed. They caught me and were amazed at themselves for doing so. The proper way to do this is to fall stiff and straight and the kids responsible for the feet let go first and the ones responsible for the head kind of push you upright. The next group comes in a week later. I get up on the table. The girls are not positive they can catch me. They do, but in all their excitement the girls responsible for my head forgot that they weren’t supposed to let go right away and I ended up with my first ever on the job injury (a concussion). The girls are freaked. I’m freaked. The GS director of outdoor programs is freaked. Two days later, I get back up on that table with the same group of girls catching me and they remembered everything they were supposed to. It was hugely important to them to do this a second time since they had dropped me they were all scared about doing it themselves. But once they realized they COULD catch me and do it right, they were all okay with doing it themselves.

A second story, the next year but different camp, I was in my cabin in the evening when there is a little knock on the door. Two of the girls, coming back from the bathroom, had seen a male stranger in the creek. This is an all girls camp. There were no males except the ranger in the camp and it wasn’t him. With the girls there, I called on the radio for advice about what to do since we were the closest unit to the creek. We were instructed to have all the girls gather sleeping bags and pillows and come up to the lodge to sleep. We quietly went to each cabin and told the girls to gather their belongings and we quietly made our way across the bridge up to the lodge where we slept. It was amazing because the two girls who saw the person in the creek didn’t panic or cause chaos. All the girls were quiet crossing the bridge and up to the lodge. They were frightened, of course, but not panicked. It taught the girls a lot about reacting to a frightening experience with a cool head. We slept in the lodge with no incidents and were able to go back to our unit in the AM.

Not exactly a camp story. But Mushroom’s post got me thinking. In my elementary school, we actually had “sex education”. Grade 6 and up, if memory serves me well. Diagrams and all. We talked about contraceptives and STDs. We also discussed this during our time in camp. We had a lot of co-ed activities. Has this remained or removed from the curriculum in schools today?

Hi Lenore! Yup, I was a camper — and yes, it helped me grow up and blossom. It also helped me on my career path. Here is a post I wrote about camp:

http://grassstainguru.com/2009/04/01/finding-my-path-naturally/

Cheers- Bethe @balmeras

I never had the opportunity to go to sleep away camp when I was young. I was the last of 4 and there was no money.

When my kids were 8 and 10 I sent them to a week sleep away camp for the first time. I made sure they both went the same week, so they would have a familiar face there, even though they were in seperate groups. They had been away for us before for weekends at grandmas or their aunts, so it wasn’t new for them to be away, but a week was the longest they had done. The one thing I loved about the camp was that we were not to tell them that we would pick them up if they didn’t like it. That makes it 100 times harder for the counselors to help them get over their homesickness. Anyway, since that summer, my 8 year old has gone every year since. My 10 year old only went twice, but moved up to a 3 week camp, plus a week with the boy scouts, and a week mission trip with the church. He’s away more in the summer than he’s home. Before he went to the 3 week camp (it’s not really camp, it’s on a college campus) for the first time he had to learn how to do laundry. That was 4 years ago and he still does his own laundry all year.

He’s taking an extra year of German language in school so that he can go on the exchange program trip which is held only every 2 years. We’ve already talked about where he’d want to go to college and he really doesn’t care how far away it is. So he’ll be able to look for the program that best suits him, not the one that’s closest to home.

My daughter wants to be a counselor at the summer camp when she’s old enough, that means being up there all summer at some point. Do I miss them? Of course. Would I want them to not do what they love just so they’re near me? Never!

Wow, the things I learned at camp…

I attended Interlochen Arts Camp, which in some ways was pretty hardcore, and in other ways just taught me the lessons I would have learned at any camp:

– campers cleaned their cabin every day, including scrubbing toilets and showers. Inspection was done once a day. If you didn’t pass inspection with a certain mark, you had to do it all over again.

– Camp was the first time I realized how sheltered I really was. At the end of the summer I had no idea how to pack my bag to go back home. My mom had always packed for me. I figured it out, and have been packing for myself ever since.

– I had always been “the girl with the best voice”, but at an arts camp that attracts students from all over the world, that doesn’t quite cut it. Camp was the first time I understood my talents within the entire spectrum of “talented”.

I could go on, but it’s bedtime. More later.

Camp, whether you are a camper or staffer, is healthy. You play/work hard, you get fresh air, you eat because you are famished, and yoy sleep because you are exhausted. It’s how it should be. I remember a lifeguard training day where June snow hit and eating a sandwhich I did not like merely to absorb the heat.

I learned how to deal with people, be friendly, and seen annoying songs. I echo spirituality lessons: camp and nature are God’s country.

I went to GS and church camps as a child, but where I think I’ve had some of the greatest “free-range” experiences at camp have been my experiences as a camp counselor. From ages 19-22 I spent my summers working at overnight camps and LOVED it! I was amazed at the responsibility I was given over my campers, yet I embraced it and I have wonderful stories from those summers…and my campers do too. Actually, while stopped doing overnight camps once I got married, I STILL spend my summers working at summer educational programs and I’m 30! (I’m a teacher; so I have summers free) In the past twelve summers, I’ve not worked at some sort of summer camp program only twice.

Camp is good not only for the campers, but also the counselors…and parents. 🙂

In Australia we don’t really have the same camp culture the US does.
Further to this, on school camps, I was never the kid to cry. Always figured my parents would be there when I got back, and if they weren’t I would get to go live with my grandparents, which didn’t sound too bad.

But what I did learn on our week long school camps – hugs are awesome.
I didn’t have a kind or nurturing bone in my body. I just wanted the crying kids to shut up, so I could go to sleep.
If the teachers were fetched, the light would go on, talking would happen for ages, which is not conducive to my sleep at all.
So, crawling into bed with the cryer, giving them a big hug and a ‘there there’, maybe make them laugh, stopped them from crying – this let me go back to the serious business of sleeping much more quickly.

It was on ‘camp’ that I learnt to emulate empathy, to the extent it has now become habit.
And I am a better paramedic for it.

Camp was one of the best things for me ever. I went to an arts camp in the Adirondacks for 10 years and then worked there. I still have many friends from there and I also met my husband there (although we didn’t get married until 21 years after we met).

I grew up in Southern California but had some great experiences camping in southern Quebec thanks to a Wider Opportunity offered through the Girl Scouts. We went on 100+ mile trips over a 8-day period through the Canadian wilderness. We pitched camps every night, treaded on nature as gently as possible and did our best to leave no trace and clean up after hunters who did not know any better. I became proficeint at chopping wood, paddling in the wind and rain and setting up camp in the middle of no where. My parents were not back country campers by any stretch of the imagination. They supported my going on those trips but the experiences of those camps have stayed with me. I met friends who I still stay in touch with 30 years later. I married someone who found me interesting partly because I could keep up with him in the back country. And I proved I could take care of myself in just about any situation. Those camp experiences are an enormous part of who I am today and why I love raising my own children to be independent and free-range too.

I first went to a 4-week camp at age 10. My mother sent my brother and I because they had a program for low income families, and it was cheaper to send us to camp than keep us at home. I didn’t want to go, and cried for the first 2-3 nights. But, I made new friends (I wasn’t too popular at school), participated in tons of great activities (arts, drama, swimming, canoeing etc), and learned all sorts of new skills (including washing my own laundry by hand). At the end of the month, I cried because I didn’t want to go home.

I went to the same camp until I was 13- at that point, I liked it less because a lot of the girls became more concerned with brand-name clothing etc that I didn’t have. It wasn’t too bad because I wasn’t the only kid without them, but it divided us from the rest. I still cherrish the memories of those first few years though.

I would like to send my kids to camp, but my husband thinks its mean! He thinks its about getting the kids out of our hair, instead of allowing an opportunity for them. He never went to camp (as evidenced by his lack of canoeing skills 🙂 ), and always thought the kids who were sent to camp were not loved as much by their parents. Right now, they’re still too young anyway, so I’ll have to work on him over the next couple of years.

I spent a summer as a camp counselor in the late 1980s just before returning to grad school. I had not been to camp, nor had a worked with kids much before that, so I learned quickly that summer camp is a lot of fun… for the kids that is. For me, it was a lot of responsibility to be accountable for kids 24/7. However, I did know a little something about bikes and biking. So, me an another more seasoned trip leader took about 12 teen girls on a bike adventure that covered about 50 miles and lasted 3 nights. Looking back, I can’t believe we did that. The kids did great and we rewarded them with medals at the end. When it was all over, I broke down in tears (in private). It was just so overwhelming. My hope is that those kids remember the trip fondly and with pride. We gave them a great experience and they really did accomplish a lot. I continue to get kids outside by teaching them how to bike and be independent. And, I am infinitely more able to deal with the responsibility of taking kids on trips.

For two summers in junior high, I attended ISYM, the University of Illinois summer Music camp. Looking at their website now, my collection tells me that they’ve changed over the past 20 years–when I attended, I believe that it was two weeks sessions (now 1 week sessions) and that we were housed in the Florida Avenue Residence halls, otherwise known as “FAR” due to their distance from . . . just about anything else on campus. It was a hike to any location where our various ensembles and focused seminars met, a hike we were responsible for making pretty much under our own power and direction.

While the days there did have a lot of required things we had to do, we also had quite a fair bit of free, unsupervised time as well, and could wander the campus and near off-campus pretty much at will. I recall going to the student union with a group of other similarly-aged kids and figuring out how to get a bowling game set up and pay for it. I recall walking myself over to a bookstore on campus and losing myself in there for hours while still keeping myself aware of the next required session I needed to be at. I also recall a few times choosing to get myself up early and over to the pool in the on-campus gym to do some lap swimming (I was on the swim team at home as well).

A lot about what I recall learning outside of music was about figuring how to organize my day to include the activities required by the camp, the activities required by biology, and the things I wanted to do. Nobody kicked us out of bed in the morning to make sure we had breakfast before our first session. We had to get ourselves out of bed and down to the dining hall, then out the door with enough time for our mile-ish walk over to where most of the sessions were held. We had to choose to either walk back to the residence hall for lunch, or figure out how to purchase our lunches elsewhere. We had to get ourselves back to the residence hall for dinner or once again, deal with getting ourselves elsewhere. And we had to get ourselves back to our dorm rooms for lights out . . . or else. I have no recollection of what the “or else” was.

I *still* go to summer camp – and I’m 24! I started with sleepaway camps with the YMCA when I was about 8 years old, and switched to Camp Ouareau when I was 11. After one summer there, I was hooked for life. Probably the most rewarding experience with camping for me has been giving back to the camping community by being a CIT (counselor in training), counselor, and part of the Leadership Team at my camp. I always loved the programs that we did as a camper, but being on staff let me CREATE that magic for others, and seeing kids’ faces light up with the magic of camp for the first (or thousandth!) time always warms my heart. This year I’m working on broadening our program for the oldest campers (ages 13-15, all girls), trying to introduce some leadership roles and gearing them up for the time when they get to be the ones in my shoes, spreading the magic of camp to the next set of kids to come along.

The best part about my camp, for me, is that it’s an all-girls environment. Our motto is “Where young women can discover their true selves” and it’s exactly what camp means to me. Camp has allowed me to realize what parts of life are important to me, and how to keep them safe. Being just girls meant that I felt more free to try new things (like learning a new language), make new friends, and have more crazy fun!

Camp has also taught me a lot of real-life skills, especially interpersonal skills, that mostly come from just having to exist in the residential camp environment – the whole camp becomes your second family, and you HAVE to deal with your problems that arise, or you’re going to have a lousy time. Problem solving and diffusing tension come VERY easy to me now!

When I was kid in the 70s I went to camp through the Torrance, CA YMCA. I was surprised when I got to the camp and found that they mixed us with kids from the San Pedro YMCA, as the Torrance YMCA was white and the kids from San Pedro were black. Our cabins were mixed half-and-half. It worked out great, though. I talked to the black kids and got to see their junior Black Panther membership cards. I asked them about the Panther’s violent record, but the black guys emphasized things the group did for the community. I still don’t think of the Panthers as a peace-loving group, but learning that I could talk openly with people about controversial subjects was a great lesson.

I also learned what word not to use. One of the black guys and I were having an insult contest. It was escalating some so I thought of insulting him with a particular racial epithet. He knew what I was thinking and told me: “Don’t you say it…” I remembered his junior Black Panther card and decided not to use the word, and never have since. Another good life lesson.

I spent not enough summers at camp. As a camper, counsellor and a supervisor. I want to go back!!

I have way too many memories of my summers away, but something that has stuck with me was something I was given when I first started to work at camp.
—
What is a Camp Counsellor

By Phyllis M. Ford
Written in the ’70s, but much of it still holds true today

Somewhere between adolescence and adulthood there occurs in human development an age which is physically and psychologically impossible. It is that unfathomable stage known as the camp counsellor, a creature undefined by psychologists, misunderstood by camp directors, worshipped by campers, either admired or doubted by parents, and unheard of by the rest of society.

A camp counsellor is a rare combination of doctor, lawyer, indian and chief. he is a competent child psychologist with her sophomore textbook as proof. he is an underpaid babysitter with neither television nor refrigerator. he is a strict disciplinarian with a twinkle in her eye. he is referee, coach, teacher, and advisor. he is an example of humanity in worn out tennis shoes, a sweatshirt two sizes too large, and a hat two sizes too small. he is a humorist in a crisis, a doctor in an emergency, and a song leader, entertainer, and play director. he is an idol with her head in a cloud of woodsmoke and her feet in the mud. he is a comforter under a leaky tarp on a canoe overnight, and a pal who just loaned someone her last pair of dry socks. he is a teacher of the outdoors, knee deep in poison ivy.

A counsellor dislikes waiting in line, cabin inspection, and rainy days. he is fond of sunbathing, exploring, teaching new games, an old car named Mrs. Beasley, and days off. he is handy for patching up broken friendships, bloody noses, and torn jeans. he is good at locating lost towels at the waterfront, fixing stopped up toilets, making friendship bracelets, and catching fish. he is poor at crawling out of bed on rainy mornings, and remembering to fill out forms.

A counsellor is a friendly guide in the middle of a cold, dark, wet night on the long winding trail to the TLC. Who but he can cure homesickness, air out wet bedding, play 16 games of 4-square in succession, whistle “Dixie” through her fingers, carry all the cook-out food, speak Pig Latin in Spanish, stand on her hands, sing 37 verses of “You Can’t get to Heaven”, and eat four helpings of Sunday dinner.

A counsellor is expected to repair 10 years of damage to Jill in 13 days, make Julie into a woman, rehabilitate Judy, allow Joan to be an individual and help Gertrude adjust to a group. he is expected to lead the most prized possessions of 20 adults much older than he. he is expected to lead them in fun and adventure, even when her head aches; to teach them to live in the outdoors, even though he spends 9 months a year in the city; to teach them indigenous activities when he can’t even spell the word; to guide youngsters in social adjustment, when he hasn’t even reached a legal age; to ensure safety and health, with a sunburned nose, a band-aid on her thumb, and a blister on her heel.

For all this he is paid enough to buy the second text in psychology, some aspirin, some new socks, two tires for Mrs. Beasley, and some new tennis shoes. You wonder how he can stand the pace and the pressure. You wonder if he really knows how much he is worth. And somehow, you realize that you can never pay her enough when, as he leaves at the end of the summer, he waves goodbye and says, “See ya next year!”

OMG. Sleep over camp was the best. Our favorite activity that we waited for with great anticipation and excitement were night-time scavenger hunts. Yup. Kids running around. In packs. At night. In the dark. Outside. With no adutls escorting us 100% of the time. We would go to bed and then the couselors would rouse us and herd us outside. The game/scavenger hunt always had a cool spin like Starwars or the like. We were all back in bed within an hour completely tuckered out. We’d be allowed to sleep in the next day. Noone got hurt. Noone was overly scared. It was piles and loads of fun. I can’t even imagine this happening today. Parents would have a mega freak out. God forbid a camp even thinks of something like this. They’be sued for thier thoughts. The reality is that all of my (now adult) friends (with kids of our own) from camp who experienced this think it was THE BEST THING EVER. I’d be excited for my two daughters to have the same sort of fun!

Oh man do I have camp stories! I went to summer camp every year from the summer after 3rd grade to the summer after senior year. My favorite story?
One year, around 6th grade (give of take a year) camp happened to fall over the July 4th weekend. This was unusual, and was the only time it happened. The whole week (camp let out on the 5th) we were wondering what they would do for the 4th as the couselors were keeping it a big secret. So there we were, late on the 4th, and we all got herded over to a large field and told to relax and watch over the tree line. We all thought we’d be able to see the far-off firework display from the nearest city, which was more or less in that direction, when all of a sudden we hear this *hisssssthump* and it starts snowing on us! *hisssthump*hissssthump* Turns out the counselors had snuck onto the rooves of the cabins immediately behind us, shaken and then popped a hole in the bottom of shaving cream cans, and were tossing them out over us. It was snowing shaving cream! Then the couselors attacked! They armed with more cans of shaving cream and we armed with handfulls of the already expelled foam from the punctured cans we waged fierce war upon each other, doing our best to make sure none left the field unsmeared.

Well, hate to fink on my little sister but… when Sis went off to her first weeklong camp (church sponsored) after 6th grade she started cranking out the “I hate this place I’m going to die please come get me!” letters (no phone calls or, this being around 1970, email) the minute she got there. We got a couple of those (actually I think 3 in two days) and then the next day it was “Well, I guess it’s not so bad, I’ve made a friend…” Guess who wound up singing at Sis’s wedding about 17 years later?

Loved loved loved camp and went on to be a counselor after I aged out of camperdom.

Let’s see: learning to sleep outdoors, building fires, chopping wood with an actual axe, whittling stuff with knives, the occasional game of mumblety pegs (if the adults weren’t paying close attention), cooking all of our meals over a wood burning camp stove, learning to put out fires safely, encountering rattlesnakes, canoeing, poking sticks at dead frogs, singing, (and making up rude and profane versions of our favourite songs), archery, riding horses and shoveling horse poo, swimming in the lake with the (non-poisonous) water snakes, preparing to evacuate when there were forest fires in the area, climbing an actual mountain, and running down the trail at dawn so that I could keep watching the sun rise over and over, going backpacking and learning to pee in the bushes, dipping string into hot wax coloured with crayon stubs to make candles, cleaning the latrines, washing up after each meal while singing camp songs, learning how to do a flag ceremony at the beginning and end of each day, practical jokes, fierce rivalries and fiercer friendships, tears and goodbyes as the buses came to take us away at the end of the session – it was all one fantastic, busy, dirty, wonderful day after another.

Bonus – it was Girl Scout camp, so I learned that there was NOTHING that couldn’t be accomplished by women working together.

Me again–I wanted to add that over the years I have worked as the nurse it is incredible how medicating children has changed. At first I would have kids come with a few allergy pills, their asthma inhaler, not much more. Anti-bedwetting drugs were really popular in the late 90s. Now I have to give out handfuls of drugs to some kids. Uppers in the morning, downers in the evening, drugs to settle their stomachs in between. I don’t know if it is just that more kids are being diagnosed sooner, or if people are coming to rely on pharmaceuticals to cope more and more instead of learning to modify their behaviour, but I am not sure if I like it very much. Further to my Ritalin comment as well–I have seen lots of kids with ADHD come through the doors and you can really tell the kids who need their meds–they literally vibrate and look really panicked in the morning after their dose has worn off and they need another. I have also seen lots of other kids who hate how they feel on it and could probably do just fine without it while running around outside in the sunshine.

This isn’t so much a camp story as it is an “independence” story. My son was by nature very timid and could have easily have been crippled by this nature had I allowed it. Instead, I kicked my kids out of the house on every nice day and made them find something to do rather than sit inside. Many a summer night saw my backyard filled with up to a dozen neighborhood kids in sleeping bags under the stars and unsupervised. Shockingly, they were never once kidnapped or molested. In spite of this, my son never wanted to go to camp and rarely stayed at a friend or relative’s house overnight.

When he was fourteen and his sister sixteen, my husband had to go to New Orleans for work and I decided to tag along. We chose to leave the kids home alone to fend for themselves; we had many neighbors they could call on in an emergency and were trustworthy kids.

The week before, we took them to the grocery store and let them shop for the meals they wanted to cook and eat while we were gone. Did you know there are seven different brands of frozen pizza so they didn’t have to once eat the same thing during the week? Neither did I until after that shopping trip. Though I was not terribly happy with their choices, this was their independence week and I was determined to let them be in charge.

Armed with pizza, a $100 bill and my daughter’s driver’s license, they faced the week alone. As my husband and I said our goodbyes, I could see the concern in my son’s eyes, but we knew they could take care of each other. During the week, they checked in before school, when they got home and to say goodnight. We heard tales of burnt pizzas, trips to the market for milk and getting along and taking care of each other. That alone made the trip a success.

But never did I expect what my son did when we got home. He thanked us. Always one to worry, he had apparently been thinking about college and had been concerned he would not be able to go because he had a fear of being away from us. He said his experience during the week had made him realize he could take care of himself. I could have very easily made him a mama’s boy, but instead I constantly pushed him to do something scary. Our trust in him gave him trust in himself.

I was thankful for my freerange childhood and glad I was able to pass that onto my own kids.

Vg5t3o jolaleztgppj

I started camp at age 5 (turned 6 in the fall) at the club my family has a cottage at. It was supposed to be for kids 6 and up but my mom got me an age over-ride since she was going to be at our lot the week, so if I was homesick or really needed her, she could easily be found and take me out early, that did NOT happen, I loved it… I went to 3 different one week camps most summers as a child and I LOVED them all…

Fast forward 2 dozen years or so, and there I was with my own son who was 5, we had just spent 4 days at the cottage and were thinking of going home, but then as we were riding our bikes around the grounds, we bumped into some of the kids who had cottages there, they were between 8 and 6 yrs old and happily picking raspberries up-to their eyeballs in prickly raspberry bushes(about 500 meters from their cottage, with no adult supervision) and my son wanted to stay with them, so I let him… The big kids said they were going to the camp that week (that’s when I remembered, how I got an age over-ride) and then my son asked if he could go to… I wasn’t sure if I could get him in last minute, or if I had enough supplies(clothing, food) for me and my 3 yr old to stay, but I figured I would give it a try… So I LEFT MY 5 YEAR OLD to pick raspberries with 6 and 8 yr olds and went over to the area that the kids were going to be checking in for camp later that day and asked if they would take my 5 yr old if I would stay up for the week… They of course said they would love to have a second gen. camper, and said I could drop him off anytime… So my 5 yr old was off to camp for one week, with just the clothing he had been wearing the four days before that (we do not have laundry avail there) not that it mattered in the least, since when I picked him up it looked as if he had not changed any of his clothing all week long… I saw him a few times in the week at the sauna or out and about, and he was at least using his other swim shorts:P He is now 8 yrs old and has done 5 weekend camps with boy scouts and 9 weeks of overnight camps at the same 3 camps I went to each summer and is looking forward to his next camps in August…

I just found this site, and so far I am loving it;) I have ALWAYS referred to my kids as free-range kids (and babies) for 8 years now, I have said that! (I thought *I* was the only one), and I would not have it any other way!!! I Love that in this day and age I still have the freedom to let my kids go and experience things first hand for themselves… When my first son was 2 yrs old, I let a 6 year old bring him to the swing set 200 meters from my cottage down the dark twisty forest road, the summer he was 5 he was allowed to take his 3 yr old bro to the same swing set, now that he is 8, I would let him even take his 10 month old sister (if he wanted that responsibility) WHY would I let him take the baby? Because I have know my son and what he is capable of, and I know he knows his limits also, he has climbed 30 feet in a tree at age 3 (a lot faster going up then down) used a power screw driver at age 2 (carefully monitored, I’m not THAT stupid) has been slowly cutting down his grandmas plum tree, one branch at a time with a saw since age 4(and earning a few bucks in the process), been foraging for firewood in the forest since he could walk, passing the deep-end test at swimming pools since age 6, safely making fires (for food) with nothing but a magnifying glass and some twigs since age 7, building dams and forts in the bushes that I will most likely never see (even if I had the urge I’m not that into the forest in my old age, too many mosquitoes, I leave those for the kids now) for as long as he can remember! Thankfully some places still exist where kids can go out and play all day, and when they get hungry if they don’t find me at our cottage they know they can always find a hamburger or hot dog at a friends, or soon enough I am sure he will be asking to go off the club grounds to take the 2 Mile ride to the closest General Store (yes it is actually still called that) to get some chips!

We may live in the projects now, but I will make sure no matter what my kids always have that experience…