Tonight’s evening program is what we call “Puttin on the Hits”
If you don’t know what that is yet, you will soon. It’s one of our evening programs where cabins put together a dance and perform it for the entire camp. The lodge deck is packed. The music is loud. There are costumes that make absolutely no sense. Someone is using a hairbrush as a microphone. It is chaotic, ridiculous, and one of the highlights of the summer.
It’s also one of those nights where, almost every year, someone’s feelings get hurt.
Not because anyone is trying to be mean. It just happens.
Put ten girls in a cabin, give them 4 days to create a dance, and you’ve basically created a live social-emotional learning lab, and it’s amazing.
Someone has an idea that goes unused. Someone gets more of the spotlight than someone else. One camper realizes she doesn’t actually want to perform in front of the whole camp. Most of the time, nobody is doing anything wrong. They’re just figuring out how to work together.
And that’s where the real learning begins.
As adults, our instinct is often to fix it. We want to bring everyone together, figure out exactly what happened, ensure the right apology is given, and get everyone back to feeling okay as quickly as possible.
I understand that instinct. Nobody likes seeing a child upset.
But one of the things we’ve learned at camp is that growth often happens when we resist the urge to solve everything for kids.
A good counselor doesn’t ignore hurt feelings. She notices them. She checks in. She creates space for a camper to talk if she wants to. But she also understands that not every uncomfortable feeling needs an adult to step in and make it disappear.
Sometimes the most important thing we can do is stay nearby and let campers do some of the work themselves.
And more often than not, they do.
Maybe it’s that night. Maybe it’s the next morning.
One camper says, “I didn’t mean to take over.”
The other says, “I know. I just felt left out.”
And then they move on.
That’s the part I wish more parents could see.
Conflict resolution at camp rarely looks like a formal conversation. It’s usually much smaller than that. It’s two friends being honest with each other for thirty seconds. It’s a hurt feeling getting named. It’s a misunderstanding getting cleared up. It’s a friendship bending a little without breaking.
Those moments matter.
Because the next time something similar happens at school, on a team, at a sleepover, or in a group project, they won’t be experiencing it for the first time. They’ll know that uncomfortable feelings don’t have to be emergencies. They’ll know that friendships can survive mistakes. They’ll know that feeling left out, speaking up, listening, and repairing a relationship are all skills they can handle.
If your camper writes home about a struggle during Putting on the Hits, try not to see it as evidence that something has gone wrong.
It may actually be evidence that something has gone right.
She felt left out. She spoke up. She listened. She repaired a friendship.
That’s not a problem while having a camp experience.
That is the camp experience.
Happy Trails,
Todd
