July 2024 - Chestnut Lake Camp

Campfire Tales | Week 5 (7/27/24)

July 27, 2024

By Aaron Selkow, Owner/Director

When I go to dinner with friends, I meet people at a party, or I strike up a conversation with the person next to me on an airplane, there is an inevitable question that comes up after I’ve told them that I direct a summer camp with my wife, Ann:

“But what do you do the rest of the year?”

Some other time, in another blog (or in the yet-to-written book, “My Life as a Camp Director”), I will take the time to dig deeper into all of the ways that I’ve tried to respond to that question. But suffice to say that it’s always fun to try to explain why I don’t spend September to May in sunny Florida, snowy Colorado, or some other restful place. There is a lot of work to do the rest of the year…but that’s not the point of this entry today. The question that far fewer people ask – and it’s something I’m excited to address now – is slightly different but just as interesting:

“What do you actually do during the summer?”

Let me answer that by sharing just a brief glimpse into my week as the director of Chestnut Lake in the first week of our Second Session.

Without going into great detail, I spent countless hours this week doing stuff that most of our community, campers, families, and staff will never even see. I sat in a bunch of meetings getting briefed on what was happening around camp, I received/made/replied to lots of phone calls and e-mails to try to support the success of our kids, I spoke to many staff members about how they were doing and tried to coach them to be even more successful, I had quite a few difficult conversations and made some tough decisions having to do with various typical and atypical challenges that come up in an environment like this, and did other usual “camp-director-y” things that we all do in this field. But now let me share what I did this week that makes this one of the best jobs in the world:

I played some kickball with a group of Niabi girls that was the perfect example of how a camp with so much to offer can also create fun with a rubber ball, four plastic bases, and the enthusiasm of wonderful staff. The girls were spirited and silly in all the ways that I would hope, and my home run was a boost to my former athlete ego. I got to run a Z-Route in flag football during an elective period and absorbed the gentle barbs from the boys. They were so excited to be there, and there was more concern about their touchdown dances than their skills at catching and passing. Making candy sushi with girls at an elective was also a great example of programming being less important than relationships at Chestnut. Yes, they were having so much fun with the execution of good sushi-making techniques. But it was the giggling happening between every other word and the sheer joy they were showing that made it feel meaningful.

I chose to sit with a camper yesterday who was feeling sad, and though I cannot point to any one thing I did or said that felt like it was helpful, maybe just the extra attention helped him to look up and expose a tiny smile. That shift must have continued because just a few hours later I watched as he was begrudgingly coaxed out of the pool from the game he was playing with a few friends. Watching those turnaround moments can be an all-day thing for a camp director because our campers are so adaptable and resilient, and even the rough moments can quickly fade away before your eyes. I joined a Varsity table for breakfast a few days before they would be leaving on their big trip (tomorrow) and marveled at the bonds they have made with each other and their staff members, including their negotiation over group assignments while in the Washington, DC area to ensure that they would be able to spend even more time with their counselors. I played some basketball with Sani boys who might not have known that a long time ago I wasn’t so bad at the sport…and now I’m hoping the Advil will finally kick in so that my back stops hurting. I sat down with a mix of older and younger girls in Create It while they were painting on individual canvases and could make out some of the images of the camp that they were trying to represent. It was awesome to see them seated with each other but silently engaged in creativity. And I walked into the Garden with some boys during Free Play to show them the zucchini, tomatoes, peppers, and various herbs that we are hoping with be picked and introduced somehow at Culinary in the coming days. All of these moments reminded me how fortunate we are to have these unique jobs that almost nobody else can understand.

This has been a truly busy and exciting week at camp. I know our campers’ parents and friends and family are home, desperate to know more of what’s happening, I know there cannot be enough pictures, and I know that you’re jealous of your kids as they have so much fun without you being able to experience it along with them. But I can tell you, from first-hand knowledge and experience, they’re having a blast.

So that’s what I do…that’s how I spend my time. Except when I’m doing other stuff entirely!

Campfire Tales | Week 4 (7/18/24)

July 13, 2024

By Aaron Selkow, Owner/Director

Chestnut Lake Camp is a place of tradition. We use the word often during the summer to reference the rituals that we enjoy as part of our program, to describe the unique way that we may do things, and to act as a shortcut answer to the eternal question of “Why?” that our campers and staff members pose throughout each day. When we come together shoulder-to-shoulder to sing our Alma Mater, we call that tradition. When we enjoy the presentation of Community Service Award nominees each week with the entire camp together, we call that tradition. When we watch as the Rope Burn fires build and build and try to will the twine to separate and fall, we call that tradition.

One tradition at our camp that occurs on the last night of a session (like this evening, as our First Session of 2024 comes to a close) is one that does not appear on a schedule nor in any promotional materials. This is an experience for our campers that follows three or four weeks of immersive and intensive life in an environment that, at once, is both contrived and spontaneous. The scaffolding of safety, supervision, and planning surrounds our kids as they move through the ups and downs of a time without the comforts of their homes, many miles from their phones and screens, detached from SnapChat. At the same time, they’re forced to socialize using words and gestures that are in three dimensions. While parents sit at home on that last night of separation from the focal points of their lives, they’re unaware of what will be happening on that final evening. For that matter, they’re unaware of most everything that’s gone on for the previous twenty-one, twenty-eight – or for our Full Summer superstars – fifty days.

When the sun rises in the morning on departure day at camp, some of our campers see it happen. The glare brought by a new day can be too much for them after this night without reverie. But the sheer joy that they feel makes it alright. They’re tough, and this time is another of the many chances we have at camp to see this in them. It’s something that develops over those long days that are rife with experiences that test them. The qualities that they are developing during camp can be called many different things, but a favorite of mine is grit.

The concept of grit is explored extensively in Angela Duckworth’s Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance. Although Duckworth

does not include camp as a subject of her research in the book, much of what she describes is relevant at camp when you consider what is happening over the weeks, hours, minutes, and seconds that young people spend there. Duckworth suggests that “Grit entails working strenuously toward challenges, maintaining effort and interest over years despite failure, adversity, and plateaus in progress.” She continues, “The gritty individual approaches achievement as a marathon; his or her advantage is stamina. Whereas disappointment or boredom signals to others that it is time to change trajectory and cut losses, the gritty individual stays the course.”

So, it comes to pass that our camp parents are staring at their devices

on the last night clicking “Refresh” for the umpteenth time, without an accurate sense yet of how strong their children have become since they dropped them off. On one hand, we take great care in protecting children from harm while they’re at camp and understand when parents describe their daughters and sons as gentle, sensitive, and in need of special attention. On the other hand, we relish our opportunity to push them out of their comfort zones, surprise them, allow them to fail at things, unbridle them from the constraints of what is, and encourage them to shape what will be. To do this well, we count on their development of grit over time that will help them drive through the obstacles that come at camp as well as the ones that await them back at home.

It’s on the last night that our campers throw caution and sleep to the wind and dedicate themselves to staying up. These final hours with friends are for looking back at the countless moments of the summer and reliving as many as possible. While they laugh at, annoy, and support each other in those waning hours – and somehow manage to lose a few more items with their names on them – they can reconcile even the toughest aspects of the camp season because, over the previous four weeks, they’ve changed.

When sleepovers end in the real world, our kids come back to us in much the same way that they leftus the day before. Maybe fun and games ensue overnight, but the experience of being in a friend’s room or basement for such a relatively short time fails to be the extraordinary experience that the last night of camp can be. Staying up extra late at camp is for kids to celebrate the totality of the summer away from home in a place where they’ve grown up a bit more, become more independent, learned new things, made great mistakes, struggled with challenges, and even discovered something about themselves that they never knew. In the middle of the night, kids at camp can think profoundly about who they are and have become over these weeks, the love they feel for another person, or the security they have in their skin that’s unlike what they may sometimes feel at home. Part of the tradition is conspiring with their friends and counselors to stay up just a little bit later so that they could somehow make this sleepover never-ending.

What happens at camp is rooted in the traditions that we make. We like to think they’re age-old and established by generations before, but we often forget that everything at camp started somewhere, sometime, and by someone, and in most cases, it was never too far from the present. We are sometimes afraid of change at camp, yet we try to welcome new ideas and celebrate innovation. Those are qualities of camp that are so valuable in the real world for us all, but especially for our children.

We build a culture at camp that values grit. It isn’t something that many other communities can develop as quickly and effectively, and at camp, we reward people for it. The campers who make it through difficult moments are role models for others. The campers and staff members that we say goodbye to at the end of the summer with tears running down our cheeks are the ones who have built grit in themselves and have made us believe in their ability to make a difference in the world.

What if we removed tradition and grit from camp? Can you picture our campers and staff saying they’ve had enough of the things we’ve always done or refusing to take part in the sacraments of camp life? Can you see campers and staff giving in to every challenge or tough situation, never pushing through or taking risks? I suppose there could be a camp somewhere where these hypotheticals could be real, but it’s certainly not in the camp that Ann and I run. Our camp teaches and reinforces values that produce young people who understand, defend, and shape tradition while displaying grit that guides them through the twists and turns they will face in and out of camp. When we, as parents, consider whether camp is worth it for our kids or when young adults are deciding between a summer at camp or one spent elsewhere, we should weigh the values of tradition and grit (along with so many other important things at play.)

Tomorrow will be emotional, and while many of our campers will remain at camp for a fun intersession period and three more weeks of camp, we will welcome the feels of the First Session’s close. The fist bumps, hugs, and grateful, “thank you” comments will be seen and heard throughout the morning and they remind us how special camp can be. Appreciating all that we have accomplished, retelling some of the greatest moments, and sharing that with parents at home or on Visiting Day is another special tradition at Chestnut Lake Camp.

Campfire Tales | Week 2 (7/6/24)

July 6, 2024

By Aaron Selkow, Owner/Director

I lost count of how many camps I visited years ago. There have been overnight camps, day camps, specialty camps, vacation camps…so many camps. Based on those hundreds of times being immersed (sometimes briefly, sometimes for much longer) in the unique environs that camps establish and protect, I can say that there are some things that almost all camps have in common. Here they are:

Campers without parents
Young adult role models
Fun and growth
Color War

At camp, we connect young people. Of course, when families are looking for the right camp for their child, they consider the campus, the programs, the schedules, and many other facets. But at the end of the summer when they reclaim their daughters and sons and assess whether sending them away for weeks to be cared for by strangers was a good idea, they just want to hear them say, “I made a friend.” Camps create the environment within which children that start as strangers become lifelong members of an extended family with bonds that are astoundingly strong. They do this with intention, with character, and with a devotion to whatever their unique mission and methods may be. Building harmony is a mantra at camp, and yet one of the most common similarities between many camps no matter where they are and what their tradition may be is the presence of something we call, “Color War.” A Color War by any other name such as Olympics, Maccabiah, or Tribal is still a Color War – an intensive, often multi-day activity that engages the entire community in battles both inane and profound – with intensity, excitement, and the antithetical splitting of camp friends between different sides of the war.

Although the tradition of Color War has come a long way since its creation (purportedly) at Schroon Lake Camp in 1916, including renaming, reframing, demystifying, and deconstructing some of the trappings to make it more effective and acceptable in today’s world, one common and consistent element can teach us a lesson. As camps strive each day to build healthy communities inside of their cabins in the woods, working dutifully to create a coalition and establish peace in these temporary homes, Color War often tests that process by making teams. Whether Green and White, different countries, or themed groups, bunkmates are divided. Friends that might usually choose their programs based solely on what the person who they sleep just a few feet away from is doing, or kids that would break up with someone if it was important to their BFF for any reason, now will spend hours upon days on opposite sides of this camp tradition. The competition can be fierce, even if the activities with the War include carrying an egg on a spoon. There are athletic contests that the entire camp may watch, rope-burning rituals that make for some of the most important moments – and awesome photographs – of the summer, and the writing and presentation of songs that can become part of the camp’s folklore forever. It’s a big deal at many camps, and no matter what camp professionals say and do to suggest that it is not the end-all and be-all of the summer, the dividing of kids and their staff between teams cannot be understated as a tricky variable. At Chestnut, we call this program, “Tribal”.

Camp leaders are not ones to do things without thought, and while they create environments that have inherent risk to give campers a chance to build resilience and independence, Tribal continues as much because of the challenge of having friends on different sides as it does despite it. They establish rules and structure for the program, of course. There are still shared values that govern the play, strong enough to sustain even when conflict arises. There are people in charge – independent and unbiased observers, referees, and surrogate parents – to shepherd the participants through their battles. There is an explicit agreement that all combatants must adhere to when the War is over: we will congratulate all for their efforts and then return to camp as we left it. There will be sad faces, tears, and lost voices, and the colored face paint may take a few days to fully disappear. But when Tribal is over, the colors fade. The issues that pitted teams against each other are over, we are back to working together for the betterment of the whole community, and the winners and losers of Tribal are just part of the nostalgia of camp with some funny or hard moments that we talk about at camp reunions for generations to come. Remember that fight song from 2009 with that line about the Unami Chiefs? Davey wrote it, and he’s now retired and living in Davie. Remember that Apache Relay from 2013 when Rachel cheated and edged Alex out at the end? Rachel is a prosecutor in the US Attorney’s office now. The fights on the fields of competition don’t linger, even if the tales of them sustain. Tribal creates stories, builds spirit, and proves that people who find themselves on two different sides of something can vie for a trophy without setting aside the decorum and humanity that is at their core.

Last night, we experienced our Tribal Campfire. This signifies the start of the TRibal process for the session, although the competition does not begin for a bit longer. We read the Tribal Story and recited the Tribal Oath together as an entire camp. The application of the Tribal credo that we will disagree and compete with each other fairly within the rules to determine a winner, only to shake hands or high-five at the conclusion to return to being on the same team could do us a lot of good in the real world, too. For me, Tribal is an ideal where people who might otherwise be friends can grapple with divergences healthily, never forfeiting their convictions or dedication to a cause, but also accepting that their adversary is only wearing a different color t-shirt. Seeing them wearing that color is okay, but holding that color against them is not.

Last night, we initiated all of our new campers and staff into the Tribal tradition. The first-time members of the community wore (proudly) their red Tribal shirts, only to discover before the end of the night whether they would forever be a Unami Turtle (Green) or a Minsi Wolf (White). Seeing the face paint applied by our leaders to each new community member and then watching them reveal their color to the Green and White teams is always special. It was very much so again last night.

Your kids here are enjoying so many moments that can change them. They can become whomever they choose, safe here in Beach Lake and encouraged to stretch themselves. Tribal is a chance to do just that. It’s not about colors. Not about mascots. It’s a test of how willing they are to embrace camp and put themselves into whatever comes their way. It’s a camp thing. It’s Tribal.

Campfire Tales | Week 5 (7/27/24)

Campfire Tales | Week 4 (7/18/24)

Campfire Tales | Week 2 (7/6/24)

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