Perhaps I send my kid to camp out of nostalgia for the days when I hiked around the mountains at Young Life Camp, meeting boys and singing camp songs, toasting marshmallows and making friends I still have, but I do think every kid should go to camp and here’s why:
Every kid should know that they could get by a week without Starbucks. Every kid should know that sometimes an overhead fan is your best friend. Every kid should know that not every bathroom has a heated towel rack.
The camp I send my son to, when I can swing the cash, is old. The lodgings are basic, the bathrooms communal, and the features are pretty primitive. It’s not the luxury spa or weekend retreat type of camp that offers your own private cabin, jet-ski rides and Internet access.
What I’m trying to say is that kids are spoiled, even mine, and I’m poor. It’s good for them to get back to the basics of food shelter friendship and the great outdoors.
It’s good for Donovan to be out in the world without his entire family to back him. There is nothing like being alone for a time to sharpen your sense of responsibility. Wait, I can pack my own bag. Wait, I can find my own shoes. Wait, I can put on my own sunscreen and bug spray and If I don’t I will suffer the consequences of hundreds of bug bites spattering my flesh.
Nothing like the itch of the bite of a bug to remind you to take care of your business.
There’s nothing like a camp fire or supper time skit or hike up a very large mountain to help you get out of your comfort zone and try new things, meet new people, eat new food and have new adventures. Sure, there’s no place like home but although change is scary without it you might as well be dead. Let your kid be scared every once on a while, it’s good for them
I like the week off. There’s no pretend weeping for me as I drop him off. I’m to busy burning rubber on my way out and heading for the closest bar or my bed for a three-hour nap. I might even say “whoop- whoop” on my way out.
Who could argue with a guilt free week of time alone with my husband or nights out with the girls. Sure, it might be the most expensive babysitter I ever paid for but do you seriously expect me to mope around pining for my son who is in the woods of Hanover county on a mud slide having the time of his life and working on crushes of girls who are at this present time a foot taller than him?
Truthfully some of my fondest memories are of the people I met at camp. Some of my fondest memories are of the things I did at camp. Making memories requires doing something different every once in a while and getting out of your comfort zone, experiencing new things without the distraction of electronics or everyday life.
I’d go on and on, as you know I can, but I got to go.
My kid is at camp and I’m ecstatic and so is he.
About Rebecca Suder