Building Bridges Between Home and Camp: An Essay About the Emotional Domain

Linda Ebner Erceg, RN, MS, PHN
Health & Safety Coordinator, Concordia Language Villages of Bemidji, MN
CompassPoint, volume 10, no. 3, pgs 9 - 10

Jerry was on the cabin porch with his counselor and trying hard not to cry. It was evening on opening day; everyone was supposed to be in bed. “I don’t know anyone! This place is so strange. I can’t swim in a lake! I never ate stuff like that supper stuff before. It’s too dark around here and my bug spray doesn’t work! I need to get home – now!”

Nancy slunk into the Health Center, her face set in anger. It was the third day of camp. “I can’t do this! I don’t want a camp name. I hate my bunk mates and I need music when I go to sleep. No one told me it would be like this!”

Joe’s counselor grabbed the nurse after lunch on the fifth day of camp. “You’ve got to help me. These kids are driving me crazy! They were perfect those first couple days, but now they won’t cooperate – the cabin is a mess! They get on each other’s case and they’re picking on Joe incessantly! He’s driving me crazy too. It’s like he’s in another world. I know he’s ADHD, but can’t we get him more medication?”

These quips probably conjure memories from readers of similar summer camp situations. Most campers and staff arrive with the intention of enjoying camp, working together, and striving for great outcomes: increased self-confidence, enhanced self-esteem and improved social skills. But for some – like Jerry, Nancy and Joe’s counselor – something else happens. Then the dream of what camp might be is threatened; sometimes, it never becomes reality.

Just as campers and staff go through a physical preparation for camp – they pack their bags and give friends stamped envelopes to assure frequent letter writing – so too do they go through an emotional preparation. For some, the preparation and anticipation matches what they actually find at camp and then things generally go fine. But others aren’t so lucky. Their expectations differ, sometimes significantly, from what they experience or fail to experience. Then we get the Jerry, Nancy and Joe Counselor situations.

It is my observation that our camp world is different from the “other world” out there. Camp, a child centered and nature loving environment, is nurturing. Yet it can also be quite wearing. I believe that if we took the time to clearly articulated the difference, told people about the distinctions ahead of time and identified strategies to help cope with the differences, it would make quite a difference to everyone’s emotional wellbeing. For example, in the non-camp world, children and young adults are taught (a) never talk to strangers, (b) never take anything from a stranger, and (c) never go to an unfamiliar place by one’s self. Our young people diligently use a set of survival skills suited to doing well in their home environment. Then one day, parents – the very people who work so hard to instill those survival skills – take their children to camp. The parents drive away and leave the young by themselves in a strange place with strange people and the adage to “Do as the camp director tells you.” And we wonder why kids short circuit?

HOW IS CAMP A UNIQUE WORLD?

In an effort to promote health, it’s time that we address the distinctions between the worlds of home and camp. By doing this, the camp’s health service provides people with information to shape an adjustment process. The camp health service could coach these responses by purposefully articulating the distinctions and discussing strategies to bridge the differences. For example, parents, in selecting academic year activities for their children, often select a program because it meets criteria such as being accessible to them “in case something goes wrong” and in close proximity to tools like telephones for “when you need me, just call” strategies. These criteria often change when it’s time to go to camp yet camps don’t talk about this with parents. As a result, parents rarely discuss it with their children. The child then assumes that the operating principles are the same: parents are “reachable” and a phone is readily available. Oops. The kids need to be clued in before they arrive at camp.

Campers also need a discussion about how camp is a safe place, a place where they go by themselves because self-sufficiency is a desired result. They need to talk with parents about why it’s okay to interact with the “strangers” at camp when it isn’t okay to do so in other environments. And this discussion needs to take place earlier than the night before coming to camp.

A camper’s emotional readiness is also boosted when the child understands that community living as a cabin group is quite different from having a bedroom at home. First of all, cabins are often shared with eight or more people. That certainly far outdistances the occasional sibling who might share the room at home. And while falling asleep with music from the stereo or while listening to the TV may happen at home, one is more likely to encounter snoring and sleep-talk during camp. Another distinction relates to how kids use their at home bedroom. For many it’s an oasis, a place of solitude and a great decompression zone during the fray of the day. This is particularly true for many teens. But camp bedroom space isn’t like this at all. Finding an “alone spot” and keeping it that way takes skill!

WHAT ABOUT STAFF?

Staff have a different perspective. There’s a certain thrill that goes with telling college friends that one is going to spend the summer working at a camp. Unique and risky activities take place, the job has a high social component, and it’s one which gives great responsibility to largely inexperienced people. Working at camp can be a real rush, one that feeds into the young adult’s developmental needs for risk taking and skill building. The staff member’s preparation for coming to camp certainly includes thinking about themselves in this camp role but often in an idealized way. Once they arrive and begin working with campers, the work of group formation and maintenance – an often neglected topic during orientation – quickly becomes reality. That’s when comments such as the one from Joe’s counselor are heard.

Staff would also benefit from pre-arrival discussion of what it means to be on-duty 24 hours a day and seven days a week. Talking about how one massages time to meet personal needs, how to blend personal needs into the fabric of camp, and what to do when time one was counting on is used to care for a homesick camper provides just a modicum of assistance. It’s the day-to-day coaching of these skills that makes a difference.

A WORD ABOUT PEOPLE WITH MENTAL HEALTH CHALLENGES

Campers and staff coping with emotional health concerns obviously have particular challenges. These individuals may not tolerate change very well and often do better when informed about changes well in advance. They also tend to have a smaller and more sensitive window for tolerating frustration. They, in particular, need to understand how camp differs from their at-home world before arriving at camp.

With preparation, this group often does well during their first few days. Then, about day four, it hits. The excitement of new people and places gives way to the tedium of living with cabin mates in a confined space. Energy used to screen the constant barrage of camp excitement begins to flag. Tolerance drops as fatigue sets in and simple things, like waiting in line at the camp store, become a staging area for disintegration.

How can one reduce the potential that a well designed camp management plan for such a person will fall apart? This often lies in building time into the person’s day for unwinding and designating a place for that to happen. Today’s youth have access to private spaces and time alone; for many, their bedroom serves this purpose. They come home from whatever the day presents and disappear into that space where any of a number of strategies may be used to unwind: listen to music, flop on the bed, strum a guitar, or sing at the top of one’s voice.

When youth move into camp, those solitude places disappear in favor of “the cabin group” and risk reduction strategies such as “adequate supervision.” Yet I believe the need for occasional solitude remains strong. It’s all the more important if one has AD/HD and is using extra energy to screen extraneous noise and activity. It’s important if one has depression and needs time to process what’s been going on. It’s important if one is coping with Tourette Syndrome and has to express the idiosyncratic behaviors so diligently suppressed during the day. It’s important if one has Asperger’s disorder and just wants to escape the hoopla which others seem to thrive upon. Camps need to create places and opportunity for people to be alone and then work with both campers and staff to appropriately use those places.

This challenge – of articulating the psychosocial differences between home and camp and designing strategies to effectively prepare both campers and staff for their camp experience – is one deserving of nursing attention. The holistic approach which characterizes camp’s attention to youth means that camp health services must see beyond the BandAids and Tylenol to the more fundamental health needs of campers and staff. The psychosocial domain has been neglected long enough.