Camp Nebagamon

By Adam Kaplan

The other night I was watching an episode of House Hunters on HGTV. For those of you that have never seen this profoundly important and powerful show which has thus far been cruelly denied a single mention at the Emmy Awards by clearly jealous Hollywood insiders, House Hunters is a reality type show in which the viewers follow someone in search of a new home as they explore the various options that meet their financial, aesthetic, and practical requirements. In the end, the brilliant realtors ALWAYS save the day and come up with the perfect place, leaving the house hunters and viewers alike overcome with emotion and sobbing tears of joy at the prospect of a new home, a new beginning, a new life…..sniff, sniff….sorry….it just gets me….you know? (Please, readers, can we just gloss over the fact that I happen to have a bit of an HGTV problem? Please don’t let this taint your image of me. Please don’t picture me watching decorating shows in my pajamas and house slippers. Instead, just go with the idea of the rugged camp director watching Deadliest Catch while skinning the Idaho mountain lion that he just killed with his Swiss Army Knife.)

Interestingly, the couple in this particular episode happened to be house hunting in Boise, Idaho. Midwesterners, they had decided that a move out West made sense for their family, to allow them a slower paced lifestyle and access to some of the outdoor activities that the West has to offer. Clearly they are geographically very discerning and brilliant folks. The house hunters were a young couple with a baby, Hannah, only several months old. As brand-new parents, they were, unsurprisingly, laser-focused on their new baby. In every interview, Hannah was present. In every interview, Hannah was attended to. In every interview, Hannah was discussed. While each of the parents clearly had some of their own personal desires for features that their new home should have, there can be little doubt that ALL of the primary criteria for the new house were centered around Hannah. This was to be, above all else, her home. The playroom had to be in just the right place, the nursery had to be in the right spot with the right orientation towards the sun, the kitchen had to be configured so that highchairs could be moved easily and the baby could always have access to whomever was cooking. Hannah’s house. It was all very sweet and charming (and stomach churning, and guilt inducing for us parents of multiple children!!!!). It was sweet and charming up to a point. Right up to the point at which the couple said that one of their primary requirements for the home was that it be a one level home with no stairs. Given the fact that Hannah had not learned to climb and descend stairs yet, the parents had decided that it was very important that these dangerous instruments of death, household stairs, be completely removed from Hannah’s life. They asked not to be shown any houses with any stairs…..for Hannah’s sake.

This was the moment when sweet and charming became concerning, and emblematic of a current trend to which many of us modern parents have fallen victim. The problem is, of course, that we have so much information, and we love our children so much, that we want to protect them from every possible danger in the world (real or perceived). Now, of course, on the surface, this is not a problem. Of course we should protect those that we love from danger. But, what we sometimes lose sight of is the fact that in our efforts to protect them from these dangers, we also inhibit their growth. Sure, the best way to ensure that Hannah never falls down the stairs is to create a world in which there are no stairs to fall down. But, the reality is, that world doesn’t exist. There ARE stairs in the world, and Hannah is going to have to learn to climb them eventually, and the only way to learn that skill is for her to practice ON STAIRS. It is just completely unrealistic to remove the stairs from her life. Life has stairs.

We modern parents attempt to protect our kids from these metaphorical stairs often. Sometimes it is concrete things like stairs, or cutting their own meat at the table, or boiling a pot of water. Each of these activities are skills that our children will need to eventually learn, yet, with best intentions, we modern parents often delay this learning in an effort to keep them safe.

Sometimes these stairs are interpersonal things like difficulties at school or when playing a sport. When our child is having trouble with a class, or a teacher, or a child in class, or not getting what we perceive to be fair treatment on a team, sometimes, with best intentions, we modern parents intervene with the teacher, or the coach, or the school, or the other child, or the other child’s parents. (Indeed, my children’s coaches sometimes ran for cover when they saw me coming, or they mysteriously had bad cell reception when they noticed my name on their caller ID.) There can be little doubt, that at some point, our kids will need to learn to advocate for themselves, yet sometimes we delay the development of these skills because we don’t let them practice the skills.

Sometimes these stairs are maturational things like getting a job or going to college. When a teenager is going after that first job, or having trouble at that first job, or applying to college, or having trouble with a roommate at college, with best intentions, we modern parents intervene. College recruiters increasingly tell stories about their primary point of contact in the admission of a graduating high school senior being the student’s parent and not the young adult seeking acceptance into the institution of higher learning. Dorm advisors tell stories about how when there is a dispute between two roommates, it seems to be the norm to hear from the parents of one or both of the roommates. Employers often tell tales about job applications being requested by, and even filled out, by parents. We all know that going to college, living at college, and getting that first job are huge developmental milestones in a young adult’s life, yet, with best intentions, we modern parents too often jump in and interfere with our children’s milestones. We rob them of the learning and corresponding maturation that comes with their choices.

AND NOW FOR THE PART YOU HAVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR:

This is why a camp experience is so important for our children today. Whether campers or counselors, the young people at camp are given a level of responsibility that, with best intentions, we modern parents often deny them. At home, we never hand a sharp knife to our 9 year old and ask them to whittle a spoon. At home, we never offer a handful of strike-anywhere-matches to our 10 year olds and ask them to build and light a fire. At home, if we happened to take our family canoeing (a rare thing for sure!) most of us would insist that the kids ride in the duff, while we parents ensured everyone’s safety by paddling….And, intentionally flipping the canoe??!? Never…..not a chance…..too dangerous…..never on our watch….no modern parent in their right mind would ever! At camp, our children learn all of these skills. They learn the knife, fire, and canoe skills that, with best intentions, we modern parents would be unlikely to allow them to learn on our watch.

Likewise, at camp, all of those interpersonal situations, in which we have a tendency to step in, are instead opportunities for kids to practice how to figure them out on their own. Campers learn how to talk to other kids when they are having problems with them. Campers learn to speak up when they think things are unfair in a game, or at a project. Campers learn to advocate for themselves in ways that, with best intentions, we modern parents often do not allow to happen. (And, yes, they have the help, when needed, of counselors. But, these young, caring counselors, truth be told, have two advantages over us parents. First, they are less likely to be as “helicopter-y” as we parents are, naturally giving campers more leeway to practice skills. Second, the guidance coming from these young adults is heard in a completely different way by our kids than if the same message had come from us. Imagine how much different it is to be given advice from that super amazingly cool guy that is your counselor, versus…..well…..your naggy parents….again…..and again….and again!)

Finally, the staff, the young adults that are applying for college admissions and had to apply to camp for their very first jobs, are being given a level of responsibility that simply cannot be duplicated at home. Our young adult staff (with the coaching of our adult administrators) are given the opportunity to not only solve their own problems, but also the opportunity to help children learn to develop these skills for themselves. Remember, these staff members are the same young adults that allow we modern parents, with best intentions, to intervene at school about their grades, to assume control of their college admissions process, and to take over procurement and execution of their first jobs.

Summer camp is the place in which the best intentions of we modern parents sometimes get trumped by what is actually best for our young people.

At the end of the episode of House Hunters, the sagacious realtor (clearly setting himself up for a second career as a camp director) wound up showing the young couple a house that met all of their criteria….except one. The house was cursed with a deathtrap…stairs. After much hand wringing and stressing out, the young couple decided to expose Hannah to the perils of a home with steps, and they moved in. Typically, at the end of House Hunters, the camera crew is sent to visit the family a few months after they have been living in their new home. This episode was no different. The returning camera crew showed the family enjoying their new home and even included a shot of Hannah climbing up the stairs under the watchful eye of her mother. In the closing scene, the young mother said that she was glad that they had chosen this home, even though it had stairs, because she had not realized it at the time, but Hannah was ready to learn how to climb stairs….she just needed the opportunity.