Ella, my 9-year-old, went to overnight camp this year for the first time. She was eager to spend a week in the mountains without Mom or Dad or anyone else from home. At the drop-off, Sophia, Ella’s 6-year-old sister, looked around intently, presumably taking in the sights, sounds and smells of freedom.
As soon as she found out that a cabin could be shared by girls ages 7 to 10, Sophia said, “I want to go to camp next year.”
“You might not be in Ella’s cabin,” I said, knowing how much she adores her big sister.
“I want to go,” she shot back.
“We’ll talk about it next spring, OK?”
“I’m going.”
My immediate concern was that Sophia might not be ready for a week away from her parents. She’s more sensitive than Ella and tends to be less comfortable doing things on her own. But her insistence on going to camp next year — and my hesitance — got me thinking: Was I trying to protect Sophia or myself?
Tanya and I both attended overnight summer camps as children; she was 7 her first time, I was 11. Even as kids, we were both social people with a taste for new experiences, so it’s not surprising that we continued to go back year after year. No question, the time away from my parents was nice but less enticing than the prospect of meeting new friends and trying new activities.
Looking back now, the best part was living with teenage counselors who forced me and my peers to work things out on our own. We couldn’t depend on our parents, most of whom tend to forget what it’s like to be a kid. I learned a variety of new skills, had a ton of fun, and developed a sense of autonomy that helped form who I am today.
I wonder how different things would have been had my parents been afraid to let me go. What if they were worried I couldn’t handle it? I might never have gotten the chance to prove myself.
Every summer, there were a few kids who had a tough time, but most of them worked through it. Like everyone, I had my share of conflicts and awkward moments, and I surely behaved differently (not necessarily better) when my folks weren’t around. But that’s the point of leaving home. Sometimes separation is the best thing parents can offer their kids. Think full days at school and weeklong vacations at Grandma’s house.
Ten years ago, before Ella was born, a pediatrician told Tanya and me something I’ll never forget. He talked about the dangers of parents micromanaging situations to the point of actually creating problems. He advised us to get in the habit of asking ourselves: “Is it bothering me, or is it bothering my kid?”
Now, as I find myself fearing an issue that might not even exist, I’m reminded of his wisdom. There are times when I’m more useful if I just step away.
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