Camping

Camp. Just seeing the word invokes fond memories for me. I can’t say that I liked all the camping trips I took during my childhood, but a few were quite memorable. Today’s kids—and I suspect the kids of my youth—were then, as now, preoccupied with the technology of the day. Back in the 1960’s, about the only technology we had was television and radio. Of course, we had stacks of 45’s and LP’s to play on our record players and stereos, but these weren’t nearly as portable as today’s gadgets are. Kids nowadays are wired wherever they go. I see them everywhere with ear buds attached, listening away to their favorite tunes, or chatting on cell phones. Four decades ago, if we weren’t outside playing, we were usually watching TV, listening to the radio, or playing records. When we left the house, we were on our own, disconnected from the airwaves and the vinyl grooves of our favorite singing sensations. We didn’t think much about it, and I don’t recall missing the TV or any of the other things that I was so fond of at home.

This brings me to my point: Can today’s young people cope with the major disconnect they must endure while away at camp? Recently, my niece went away from her home in the city and entered into a technology-free campground where no cell phones, I-Pods, video games, or any such devices are permitted. If caught with one, a camper could be sent home immediately—no excuses. Those folks mean business. So, my curious mind wants to know how my niece is adjusting to her “unplugged” life in the woods. You see, she is still away at camp and won’t be home for another week or so. Just knowing her though, I suspect she is getting along splendidly without these devices, mainly due to the scads of planned activities the camp staff have planned for the girls on a daily basis. Their days are carefully orchestrated from sunup to sundown so they won’t have time to get bored or restless. I would be willing to bet that once camp started, the girls quickly put out of their minds the modern, wired (and wireless) world they left behind. That’s as it should be, of course, and that’s the way the camp organizers and counselors have it planned.

The beauty of going away to camp is that it opens up a whole new world in so many ways. It takes kids out of their daily routine and all the comforts they are used to at home, and plops them firmly in the middle of a group of their peers where everybody is equal, and where no one can boast too loudly, lest they be scolded by some counselor and told to play by the rules.

I remember going away for long weekends with my father and younger brother during my summers growing up in Mississippi. We were members of the YMCA group for boys known as Y-Indian Guides, a father and son organization where we learned all kinds of fun stuff, from Native American Indian lore to how to paddle a canoe and survive in the wilderness on nuts and berries. Each summer, on pre-appointed long weekends, my father would drive my brother and me off to Camp Mondamin, beside the Strong River in Eastern Mississippi. There we would be joined by all the other boys and their fathers from our particular Indian Guide group. Fathers and sons sported exotic names like Running Bear, Little Bear, and Shooting Star (we were only seven or eight years old, you see). My brother and I were just as excited as we could be, and having our dad go with us was the absolute best part of it all. Being with a parent at that age was something to be quite proud of, and our pride and enthusiasm showed in the way we strutted around the campground acting very grown up and sure of ourselves. After all, what could possibly happen to us with daddy so close by?

We slept in tents—or teepees—as we called them, made fires without matches, learned canoeing and other outdoor activities, got to shoot “bows and arrows,” and just had an all-around fun time. And I don’t remember even thinking for a moment about TV shows, movies, or records. The most memorable part of these adventures for me was when, at dusk, we would all sit in a very large circle, legs crossed Indian-style. The boys would sit in front and fathers in back, and we would sing songs, hear scary stories, and then, just after dark, the great climactic moment came when the Chief, or leader of our tribe would invoke some sort of prayer to the “Great Spirit” and lo and behold!—out of nowhere, and seemingly out of thin air, a huge bonfire would magically roar toward the sky from the center of the circle. And I’m talking a huge fire, where moments before only a pile of wood and twigs sat. It was truly a magical experience for my brother and me, and one I’ll never forget. I have wondered to this day how they pulled that off, but now I think I prefer not knowing, so as to keep the magic alive forever in my imagination.

Yes, camping can be a wonder-filled, even awe-inspiring experience for anyone, but especially for a child. I am so fortunate to have had the opportunity at attend several in my youth, and I think any girl or boy would be equally as fortunate to have this experience today. I can’t wait to hear all the details and stories from my niece, Samantha, when she returns to the “comforts” of her home in the city. I hope she will one day find comfort in her own memories of her camping adventures, so she can share these with her children some day.