A Summer Camper Was Born!

By Diane Falanga

When my daughter first went to camp as an eight-year-old, my husband and I thought she was too young to go away from home. But she was determined: She begged, pleaded, and assured us that homesickness only affected seven-year-olds. She was so confident, we agreed. We packed up her pint-sized duffle bag and sent her off to camp for a week. Then the letters started to arrive: "I cried because I got homesick . . . they made me clean the table. I want to go HOME." But in the same letter, likely written only an hour or so later, she wrote: "I just came back from the counselor skits. I stopped crying. It got much more fun." And then — within the same letter — written the next morning: "We have chores today. I am the scraper, sweeper, and maid." This was then followed up with a final thought: "I just came back from breakfast. I’m having more fun. Love, Bianca."

And in that one yin-yang-crazy-mind-making letter home . . . a summer camper was born! When I look back (lovingly? maddeningly?) on this first communication from our daughter, it makes me realize the importance of the (almost-lost) art of letter writing. By sitting down, pen in hand, Bianca was able to get her thoughts on paper — maybe sob a bit — and then dash off to the next activity, without even a backward glance at her past troubles. She needed to "talk" and we were there to "listen." Because she was able to stop for a second — pour all of her "stuff" out on the page to us (just like dumping out her backpack on the kitchen counter on the last day of school . . .) — she could then move on, forget the sadness and focus on the s ’mores, soccer, and skits.

As the parent of a camper, you know that when kids write home, they are speaking from the heart of the moment without any thought or concern about how their words will be received, analyzed, critiqued, digested, read, re-read, and re-re-read. While some campers may bitterly complain about hardships and homesickness, they seem to move past these issues instantly, leaving parents at home to fret and anxiously await the next letter. Or, if the parents were once campers themselves, to simply laugh.

For every parent who’s ever received a letter from a homesick child, or anybody who’s ever written their parents with crazy requests from their bunk, I would suggest that our collective goal be to try to take these missives with a grain of salt . . . and a lot of humor. Camp — for most kids — is a rite of passage, a taste of independence for the very first time. When a camper picks up a pen to write home — that’s her time to reflect and connect. She isn’t wondering how her words will be interpreted by mom and dad. That’s not the purpose of the letter. The camper just wants to connect with home for a moment. That’s what typically makes the letters more pure and direct — more comical and poignant.

My advice: Write your children every day they’re at camp and fill those letters with funny stories, bad jokes, and not-too-interesting news from home (so they don’t feel they’re missing out). And when the letters start to come in . . . try to take a deep breath and simply enjoy and appreciate the hysterical portal into the hearts and minds of kids spending the summer away at camp.

And one more thing . . . pack them up with loads of stationary and stamps!

Diane Falanga is the author of P.S. I Hate It Here! Kids’ Letters From Camp, a collection of 150 real-life, laugh-out-loud gems. A mother of two, Diane was inspired to put this book together after receiving her eight-year-old daughter’s hilarious letters home from camp. After sharing her story with friends, sending e-mails across the country, and working with camps nationwide and the American Camp Association® (to post her query for letters), she was able to gather hundreds for this collection. She is an interior designer and founder of the Heart Homes Initiative of Designs for Dignity (a nonprofit providing furniture for those in need). Share your camp letters and stories at www.psihateithere.com.

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