Next month I will be dropping off my youngest to overnight camp. Not just any overnight camp but MY overnight camp.
In 1977, at the age of 9 (I just turned 46 if you're trying to do the math), unbeknownst to me, I was dropped off at Camp Tel Noar and embarked on one of the most memorable and life changing chapters of my life.
Really? Life changing? A bit of an exaggeration? Not at all. I was 9 and was on my own, so to speak. I was allowed to be independent. I was encouraged to be independent. I was able to be true to who I was. I became confident, more social and made the most wonderful friends. This didn't all happen in one summer of course but it did evolve over time. After 8 weeks, I begged to go back and so I did. For 12 years.
What I didnt know at the ripe age of 9 was that I was about to learn all kinds of things that would help me later on in life. I was going to learn to live with a mix of personalities; some unlike myself, and would have to cope and work together. I would learn the meaning of togetherness and cooperation. I was going to try foods I may never have tasted, participated in sports I never wanted to do,and I got to BE ME!
It's not that I couldn't be me at home you see. I'm pretty sure I was still me during the school year but camp- camp accepted people (maybe not everyone. There's always the person who didnt have the same experience as me and who didnt love it as much as I did) but it allowed most people to just be themselves. Camp wasn't as cliquey as school was and we were a bunk- a group.
Although I, by no means, am pushing my youngest son to go to camp- I admit that we only looked at one. I mean, why mess with what you know works? I haven't been at camp since 1989 but I knew the values that Camp Tel Noar instills. I knew that the coed, small camp experience would be a mesh for my child and when we went to experience an afternoon there, he; too, felt at home.
As the days dwindle and opening day is nearing, my youngest has been asking me loads of questions. "What happens if I don't know where to go?" "Will I know my schedule every day?" "Will they tell me when to change for swim?" Camp has changed a lot since I was there. Tennis is now part of the daily schedule; not an optional. Optionals are now called electives and you sign up online a month in advanced (talk about pressure!) Beds are assigned to prevent the craziness of the first day and trying to save beds for your bff (Admittingly I did this) There are no more trips to the "Gstore" for winning "Honor Bunk" and I'm pretty sure you aren't allowed to hang kids from hooks and give them wedgies but I know that the new stuff that CTN has will be just as wonderful (and as a Mom of a boy I'm relieved on the wedgie thing). I do hope they still hang out at the rock at bunk activity!
Of course I'm going to miss him like crazy. I'm sure I will be THAT parent who checks the website every two seconds looking for his latest picture (ignorance is bliss. Our parents didnt have that luxury) and I will run to the mailbox every afternoon hoping for a letter from him that says what a great time he is having. I send him, however, with the utmost confidence. Confidence in knowing he is about to start on a really fabulous adventure. I hope that he gains confidence and matures and has so much fun that he cries when he sees me at pickup. Not tears of happiness to see me but tears of sadness that he doesn't want to leave.
Dear youngest son, on my first day of bunk 9 it was raining. I was invited onto the top bunkbed of a girl who asked if I wanted to join her in coloring. 37 years later that girl is still my bestest of friends. I can't wait for you to experience the joys of overnight camp and meet your best friends.
Just dont forget to write your mother and I hope I see tears when I pick you up!
In 1977, at the age of 9 (I just turned 46 if you're trying to do the math), unbeknownst to me, I was dropped off at Camp Tel Noar and embarked on one of the most memorable and life changing chapters of my life.
Really? Life changing? A bit of an exaggeration? Not at all. I was 9 and was on my own, so to speak. I was allowed to be independent. I was encouraged to be independent. I was able to be true to who I was. I became confident, more social and made the most wonderful friends. This didn't all happen in one summer of course but it did evolve over time. After 8 weeks, I begged to go back and so I did. For 12 years.
What I didnt know at the ripe age of 9 was that I was about to learn all kinds of things that would help me later on in life. I was going to learn to live with a mix of personalities; some unlike myself, and would have to cope and work together. I would learn the meaning of togetherness and cooperation. I was going to try foods I may never have tasted, participated in sports I never wanted to do,and I got to BE ME!
It's not that I couldn't be me at home you see. I'm pretty sure I was still me during the school year but camp- camp accepted people (maybe not everyone. There's always the person who didnt have the same experience as me and who didnt love it as much as I did) but it allowed most people to just be themselves. Camp wasn't as cliquey as school was and we were a bunk- a group.
Although I, by no means, am pushing my youngest son to go to camp- I admit that we only looked at one. I mean, why mess with what you know works? I haven't been at camp since 1989 but I knew the values that Camp Tel Noar instills. I knew that the coed, small camp experience would be a mesh for my child and when we went to experience an afternoon there, he; too, felt at home.
As the days dwindle and opening day is nearing, my youngest has been asking me loads of questions. "What happens if I don't know where to go?" "Will I know my schedule every day?" "Will they tell me when to change for swim?" Camp has changed a lot since I was there. Tennis is now part of the daily schedule; not an optional. Optionals are now called electives and you sign up online a month in advanced (talk about pressure!) Beds are assigned to prevent the craziness of the first day and trying to save beds for your bff (Admittingly I did this) There are no more trips to the "Gstore" for winning "Honor Bunk" and I'm pretty sure you aren't allowed to hang kids from hooks and give them wedgies but I know that the new stuff that CTN has will be just as wonderful (and as a Mom of a boy I'm relieved on the wedgie thing). I do hope they still hang out at the rock at bunk activity!
Of course I'm going to miss him like crazy. I'm sure I will be THAT parent who checks the website every two seconds looking for his latest picture (ignorance is bliss. Our parents didnt have that luxury) and I will run to the mailbox every afternoon hoping for a letter from him that says what a great time he is having. I send him, however, with the utmost confidence. Confidence in knowing he is about to start on a really fabulous adventure. I hope that he gains confidence and matures and has so much fun that he cries when he sees me at pickup. Not tears of happiness to see me but tears of sadness that he doesn't want to leave.
Dear youngest son, on my first day of bunk 9 it was raining. I was invited onto the top bunkbed of a girl who asked if I wanted to join her in coloring. 37 years later that girl is still my bestest of friends. I can't wait for you to experience the joys of overnight camp and meet your best friends.
Just dont forget to write your mother and I hope I see tears when I pick you up!
and I still remember meeting you at Archery. Though I was assigned to be your teacher, you and Stacey both taught me. I am very proud of the woman (and mother) that you have become and even prouder that I am able to call you a friend.
ReplyDeleteGood luck with your next chapter!