Are You a Camp Person?

We may switch political parties. We may change our taste in food, fashion and TV shows. But when it comes to whether you’re a camp person, “membership,” which is open to anyone, almost always falls into the category of a life-long affiliation or affection if you answered “yes.” 

Though it begins in childhood, if you were given the option to go to a sleepaway camp or even a day camp that offered a couple of overnight experiences, being a camp person is something that typically sticks with you your entire life.  

Going to overnight camp is a privilege and typically a summertime ritual for many kids not just in this country but world-wide. It can be pricey in many cases but, like most “memberships,” there are affordable alternatives—day camps with overnight stays, scout camps, religious or Bible-study camps—and many that offer scholarships, some through The Fresh Air Fund, which offers summer experiences often for city kids whose parents or guardians can’t afford to pay and want them to experience fresh country air.

Whatever choice is made, a sleepaway camp represents a milestone. Going away whether for one, two or eight weeks means kids won’t be tethered to screen time and cell phones since they’re not permitted at most camps. It’s often the first time a child has been away from home for an extended period on their own.

Today, there are a multitude of sleepaway camp options. In addition to the traditional sleepaway camps, a growing roster of specialty sleepaway camps have emerged, devoted usually to one activity. The underlying advantages of these camp are the same whether for sailing, arts and crafts, drama, music, rocket science, coding and computer skills, diet camps, camps for children with certain disabilities or illnesses such as diabetes or celiac, cooking and becoming an entrepreneur, maybe to start a camp!

Now in our 60s and 70s, many of us grow nostalgic about the camps where we went, and which became magical to us as we spent summer after summer there. In fact, the experience may have been so positive that many passed the option down to kids, who now may be old enough to offer it to their children. (For many, it wasn’t a good experience and that’s okay, too.)  

Some in our age bracket also had parents who had the privilege of going to camp, though as Depression children, many of their parents may not have been able to afford the expense unless the children attended on a scholarship or were sent by a rich uncle or aunt.

Even if your memories have faded, if you went to sleepaway camp, you may still recall parts of your childhood spent on a lake, in a cabin or on a stage playing a string instrument at a performing arts camp, in part because of now being able to share remembrances and have others help fill in the gaps with camp buddies in FB groups that have emerged.

On FB, camp members email about favorite activities, perhaps the uniforms some of us wore which eliminated the worry of what to wear daily, favorite counselors and not so favorite ones we laugh about, signature foods we ate summer after summer—bug juice, schnecken, donuts, cinnamon toast, Sunday fried chicken dinners, s’mores or freshly caught fish that we cleaned and cooked over campfires, color wars,  favorite songs, awards won, dances or “play dates” with other camps and so much more. Most were embraced with joyous camaraderie and spirt. One woman we know recently held a color war birthday party to celebrate her 40^th milestone and had the two teams dress in blue for her camp team and green for the football team of the city where she now lives.

So why does becoming a camp person matter at all when we and our grown children have so many more important things to spend money or time on or worry about? The world is falling apart and we’re thinking about trivia such as who was the song leader or all the lyrics to camp songs or mastered crossing the wake when water skiing?

It matters because for many of us in the older generation going to a sleepaway camp was one of our life-defining experiences.

The joy was to go away from our secure, familiar homes and all the ways we typically did things in a place far away—maybe an hour by bus, car or train or maybe across the country by airplane. We met new people, we tried new activities and foods, we stayed together and up all night giggling and ducking our heads under covers to avoid bats that frequented some of the bunks surrounded by lots of trees.

We also swam in cold lakes in the morning, maybe skinny dipped at dusk, walked in the woods looking for certain types of leaves, insects and birds, hiked mountains and slept out in tents and cooked and ate over fires. Some of us gained new nicknames. And even with rules and new-found responsibilities such as making our beds with tight hospital corners that were checked during inspections or having to play certain sports we never liked, we still loved our camps and our roles as camp people.

These were our special places where the world as we knew it most of the year was shut out.  No parents were permitted except on visiting day. And phone calls often were allowed only for emergencies or birthdays.

If we were lucky. we made a new bestie or a few who we swore we’d stay in touch with often once camp ended. And once home, we’d be homesick for camp, so much so that we’d start counting the days until it would start again.

Some of us also remember how excited we were if our children became camp people. Yet, we also remember how nervous we became for our littles ones as they headed off to a place where they may have known few other campers. But the point is that camp was typically a new place for a totally different group from those at home. And if any were homesick and sent letters with an urgent plea—“Take me home NOW,” we hoped such sentiments would dissipate by the next letter, with a clue they were becoming a camp person by writing, “I like this place!” Love would come later.

Regardless of what type of camp anyone attended, many have maintained some of those friendships for more than 60 years or longer, cemented with calls, emails, visits and trips back to the camp for reunions if it’s still operating. For those whose camps are closed, they may still share in virtual reunions or venture back to see the camp ground, which now may be a resort with the land redeveloped for some other use.  

For camp people, one of the absolute joys is that in our heads, we remain fixed in time. Like Peter Pan we are always 10, 11, 12 years old or whatever age when we’re remembering this peak simpler time in life.