I was at our last overnight camp checkout, prior to our co-ed week of camp, and I felt moved to share some of my thoughts and observations.
I saw crying children. They were crying with the joy for what they had just experienced. They were crying with melancholy at leaving behind new and lifelong friends. They were crying because there is something indescribable in the camp experience that they couldn’t articulate but knew that they would miss. I know this feeling, I felt it many times in my youth and continue to experience it in the faces of children all around me. I still get choked up when I see this expression. I’m sure a poet could articulate it much better, but I always think of it as that “ineffable camp sense of love and nostalgia.” I wish I could bottle it and share it with the world.
I caught a snippet of one child’s conversation. She was enthusiastically telling her parents about something having to do with a paper plate. Her eyes were alive as she swung her arms in articulation. Her parents just watched with contentment. I thought, where else but camp can someone get so excited about something as mundane as a paper plate. But that’s the part of the magic of camp and of being a child. A paper plate is a challenge, a mud puddle is a new world, a dark cabin is an adventure, and a camp fire fills us with warmth that sustains us through the year. I was struck by another thought as I watched this young girl. Terrible things have happened in the world in recent weeks – in Charlottesville, Spain and elsewhere. But this isn’t the place to dwell on those topics. This child had no idea about any of it. This child and 300 other children had no idea what was happening outside of the borders of the camp. This is another part of the magic of camp. Children can focus on their own development and self-esteem without distraction.
I was struck by something else as well. I saw children hugging children. These children were from all races and nationalities. I thought to myself how lucky I am to be raising my son in a time when that’s commonplace. When it’s normal for a black child and white child to give each other a bear hug. When it’s normal for mixed race parents to be scooping up their child and hugging her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. When it’s normal for a son to be embraced by his mothers.
I am glad, with everything that’s happening in the world, that places like camp exist. People often talk of leaving camp to go “into the real world.” This bothers me. Camp is the real world. It’s the world where everyone is accepted and no one is judged by superficial characteristics. It’s a world where songs sung together in fellowship still contain magic. It’s a world where lying on your back, gazing at the stars, and waxing philosophic is profound and not trite. It’s a world where one week together can create a stronger bond than years together in a classroom. It’s a world where your color war color is WAY more important than the color of your skin. It’s a world where your village is more important than your gender identity.
It’s a world where you’re defined by who you are and not what you are.
In short, it’s the real world we all should be building together. If only we could all bottle that indescribable camp feeling and share it with the world; it would be a much a better place. To those who passed through our camp this summer, don’t forget that feeling. Take that feeling with you and share that joy. Take it to your classrooms and your jobs. Pass it on to your friends and your families. To those who didn’t pass through our camp this summer, you’re still part of our camp family. You’ll always belong here, whether you ever make it here or not.
With Love,
Mark R. Dibble, CEO
YMCA Camp Ockanickon, Inc.
Medford