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Summer Camp

 We took our child out of the YMCA camp. I'm not very interested in the specifics of the camp. Other people seem to have a good time there.

 

What I did notice was that the camp was frequently calling, mentioning moments of aggression, poop accidents, penis waving. The head of the camp was exceedingly nice and a bit passive, and instead of giving me instructions, she would murmur about her need to "locate Joshua's triggers." Finally, I asked her what she would do if she were in my shoes, and she said, "I can't answer that, but I can tell you that I worry about Josh at my camp. I worry every single day." There was no need to hear anything more. 
 
The *new* camp is both more expensive *and* more demanding. They tell me to send a trained babysitter -- someone to monitor Josh *in addition* to the counselors who are paid to monitor him. A part of me resents this. Isn't the camp getting enough money to solve its own problems? On the other hand, I appreciate that the counselors are taking Josh seriously. They want to "get this right" for my son. I don't have any doubt about that.

I notice big changes in my own life -- changes that crop up as a response to Josh. In another era, I would have quietly, anxiously waited for the camp to tell me, "This isn't working. You're expelled." Now -- with coaching -- I've learned to be direct. "Tell me if you can handle this. Yes or no. I need to know soon -- or soonish." I find myself typing a sentence along these lines: "Should I fire Jane Doe?" The thought doesn't terrify me. Meh. A change in personnel is just a change in personnel. Also: There is some freedom in letting it all hang out. It's tiresome to wonder, "Am I being judged?" It's liberating to say, "Here are the exact details of my situation. It's challenging. I guess it's fine to go ahead and judge me if you'd like. Have fun!"

Finally, I have a new political skill. There was a part of me that wanted to lash out at the YMCA. "We're leaving because you all are incompetent. Try to work on that." But I was able to consider that that moment of honesty was not merited. Instead, I flashed a big smile and said, "Thank you so much for everything!"

I hope that Josh is learning a few things -- as well -- by observation.

 


P.S. The new camp is called "Harbor Haven." I think the name is unfortunate. You can be a harbor. You can be a haven. But if you put the words together, you make something redundant. It's like "ATM machine." Or "the hoi polloi."

I toured the facilities when kids were absent -- and this seemed useless. To me, the only thing worth noting is whether the kids seem happy. I do not care about the swimming pool; I do not care about the performing arts pavilion. And pretending to care seems silly; a worthwhile project, in general, seems to be "doing less pretending." The chill-out room featured a puffy tunnel that was painted to resemble a portion of a NASA station. How absurd to be an adult and to whisper, "Ooh! A NASA station!" ....My son does like the pool, but he can't tolerate the performing arts pavilion, because it is uncomfortably close to a wasp nest. So: No Chekhov this summer. What did Stanislavski have to say about the outdoor performer who must contend with a noisy wasp?
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