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


, 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.
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.
We play hard here. It can be a lot for some of us. Our new campers have to adjust. Our new staff have to accept that everything they learned before the campers arrived was used up and not super relevant after four minutes of the campers being at camp. Returning campers have to adjust, too. They naturally compare the best of last summer to the early stages of the season that started 10 or 11 months later. Obviously, they liked stuff about Chestnut last summer to want to return. And some or a lot of that stuff is gone. They didn’t come back because they thought the Drama Center was special. They didn’t tell their friends how much they loved their camp because the trees stood in the same spot forever. They had it just right last year. Now it’s different. I am grateful for this. It means we all get to grow each year, it allows us to build community and create spirit each season. It means we can never get stuck somewhere, we can always create and enjoy something different. And what always mattered remains, in essence, the key principles and programs. They are here. The big ones are here forever.
This has been one of the best “first weeks” I have ever seen. Of course, that doesn’t mean it’s been perfect. There were some tears, we had some people fall down, and plenty of mistakes were made. I consoled some campers. I did the same with some staff. I spoke to a few parents that were unhappy. There will be more. And yet, what is happening here has been just so incredible. The care, the concern, the laughing, the outstanding performances, the dancing, the singing, the made three-pointers, the perfect Pickleball dinks, the beautiful artwork, the recognition of peers and staff through Community Service Awards last night, the new friends forming, the first time on the Flying Squirrel, the first leap from the highest Wibit element, and so many other things. I have heard more people than I can count say this is the best. I hope tomorrow will bring more.
At the first true Community Campfire, I joined Josh Lutman on stage to play a Dylan classic, “Wagon Wheel.” Our camp is not the only one that loves this song. To be honest, I don’t know what that is. But as long as the campers and staff come together to make music together at dusk sitting shoulder to shoulder at the Great Lawn, I don’t care why they like this song. They would probably sing anything. They just want someone to let them sing. Together.
was also at his best at camp. It was at camp that he provided the most happiness to others – as Ann walked Apollo around the property each day, he was like a magnet for the kids who needed him. They craved the chance to tap into Apollo’s energy while they might be many miles away from their pets and their homes, and he obliged them gently. His aloof demeanor was a great match for their sometimes-unbridled enthusiasm, and though he might be scared, he also would get comfortable enough at times to lay down and allow others to cuddle with him. But it was just being at camp that brought Apollo joy. The ability to run and explore when nobody was around, chasing (and never catching) a deer, bounding across the lake’s sandy beach, or just running until he completely wore himself out on any day that we were there was evidence of camp being his favorite home.
warmth that is shared between owners and their pets is worth. Apollo was no exception to this. As some at camp could attest, when he created a bond with someone, his relentless attention to them and his drive to be near them was unparalleled. Apollo’s recognition felt like pure love to us, and that bond reminded us of the friendship and fellowship that we saw day after day between people at camp. Campers and their bunkmates, the kids and their favorite counselors, and the staff that worked so closely together all appreciate and provide love at camp. Camp is filled with opportunities for growth and learning, but at the core, camp is a place that values this love. Apollo’s deportment was a perfect representation of the power of showing love to one another.
out of the woods covered in unbearable filth, or went to the bathroom in the wrong place. One such example was at our closing Tribal (Color War) event in 2021 when the teams were gathered on the main athletic fields preparing to hear me announce the winner. Apollo slipped away from our house, heard my voice from hundreds of yards away, ran to me, and promptly crouched in front of the entire camp to leave his own Tribal trophy on the third-base line. Apollo was forgiven at camp for his foibles, and he helped us to keep that in mind when we or others around us slipped up. Camp is at its best when it is a place where – like Apollo – we can do the wrong thing and be forgiven for it, as long as we show that we meant no harm and are willing to do better.
If you have not already heard about the sudden closure of Camp Trucking just over one week ago (
often action-packed photographs as well as wonderful posed photos from every corner of our Chestnut Lake campus. In addition to this, the Communications Team leadership sorts and edits all of these photos as well as doing the other administrative work necessary to get this media in front of parents every single day. There is also a staff member dedicated to collecting, editing, and posting photos, stories, reels, and highlights to our camp
One moment that might have felt like a bad omen at the start of the Disco week was the arrival of their bus. Half of the campers in the program come from New York City and a partnership with the 92Y (and their amazing day camp), so we welcomed a charter bus during our Second Session drop off. The driver was told to back up to make his way out of camp, and he instead decided to drive forward. Then he backed up. Then he got stuck on wet grass. Then he hung his bus up on the road, unable to move. And then we towed the bus. The photo (see inset) is a classic.
As we gathered as an entire community to close out the competition between our Unami Turtles and Minsi Wolves Tribal teams last night, we were treated to just such a special moment. Minsi was off to a very good start, and it seemed clear within 30 minutes of the Rope Burn’s start that they would likely walk away with the win. Burning a very thick rope that’s suspended ten feet in the air is not an easy task, but their early efficiency at getting a fire built from scratch into one that was reaching the rope made them appear to be the favorites. Unami caught up with a great deal of hard work, but they seemed still to trail. The teams seated in front of the bonfires were in constant cheers, especially hyped because they were told before the start of the event that relatively few points separated the two teams after three days and the winner of this last activity would win Tribal. Minsi’s fire grew even bigger, and as time passed, Unami’s chances to come back waned.
take on more responsibility, and gain independence, and these summers are the ones that all younger campers will aspire to reach. At Chestnut, we are still growing up in this aspect of our camp’s development.
and that led to a few years of no major trips off-site. It was hard each year to make that decision, and though we look back and feel it was the right choice, it increased the build-up of anticipation and pressure for this year’s trips to finally get back off-site (including overnight versions). Just a few days ago, we completed all of our First Session trips and there is no doubt that these will turn out to be highlights for many campers. None more important than what our Varsity campers experienced.
Albuquerque, including time spent sledding sand dunes and exploring Southwestern culture. But it’s the strength in their resolve, their adventurous spirit, and the bonds that were made deeper between them that have truly stood out. They even dealt with a stomach bug that has taken down many of our kids and staff for a short time, though our Varsity 2s would not let that keep them from enjoying this trip to the fullest. Now that they are back at camp, we continue to honor them (and their V-1 peers) for being trailblazers, both literally and figuratively. Our hearts are filled with pride, and we know that the campers that follow them are already hearing the stories and are excited to follow in their footsteps. This is how young camps become more “mature.”