We’re in that fantastic—yet overwhelming—part of the year where school is winding down, and our kids are getting increasingly anxious for summer to start. There’s both a blossoming hysteria emerging with each warm day, and a growing ennui about dragging themselves out of bed each morning, contrasting but equally strong impulses. As the parent of a kid who does not find school to be a total breeze, I always thought this was just a sign of everyone being ready for a break. That my daughter’s restless energy was about needing a pause on the school of it all. But that isn’t quite right and I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it. Afterall, kids find ways to be layabouts at all times of the year. I’ve been thinking recently, it’s not just being done with academics. It’s not “needing a break,” as much as it is needing something more. This was suddenly super clear to me the other night when my daughter came barreling into the house after rowing practice with quite a story.
For context, this past spring my daughter Cece (a Fifteen who is heading back for her 6th summer at Alleghany), joined a beginners rowing team at a local boat club on the Passaic River near where we live in New Jersey. It’s been a joyful discovery for her. And in fact, we partially have camp to thank. She has always loved canoeing on the Greenbrier, and she’s been struggling to find a sport she really connected with, so when the idea of rowing came up we pitched it to her as “canoeing on steroids.” She’s discovered that rowing—literally steering her own ship—gives her a greater level of agency than almost anything she does during the school day, and being out on the water is this whole new and refreshing environment.
At practice a few nights ago, the current on the river was strong and the wind was up. Cece was in a two-person scull and as she and her partner attempted to turn their boat to head in for the evening they flipped and found themselves upside down in the Passaic. If you aren’t familiar with New Jersey waterways, I can assure you, this is not somewhere you want to be; it’s a far cry from the crystal-clear Greenbrier. After a moment of panic, she and her friend remembered their training and wriggled their feet free, popping up out from under the boat. Coincidentally (and inconveniently) the motor on the coaches’ launch died at the same time, so he had to use his voice to direct the girls’ next moves. The water was still mid-spring icy and they were fully dressed. The other girl in the boat was told to swim out first, while Cece remained treading water for five minutes, while also holding up the boat so it didn’t sink. It had been drilled into them that these boats are expensive pieces of equipment, and Cece took the responsibility seriously. But she wasn’t fazed by that current (thanks, Alleghany!) and she held the boat and herself afloat until another launch could come tow her in.
As harrowing as this all was, Cece loved every minute of it. She was beaming and breathless and still clearly full of adrenaline as she was telling me this story. It turns out that in rowing flips are fairly common, so no one was in trouble, and the coach applauded Cece and her friend for their calm response, and congratulated them on getting this right of passage under their belts.
Listening to her tale, a memory floated forward for me: as a canoe instructor, probably during my JC summer, in the stern during a canoe trip from Alleghany to Camp Greenbrier, I mistimed a turn and very nearly wrapped one of our metal canoes around a rock. But with the guidance of more senior counselors and the helping hands of my campers we braced ourselves up in the rapids and managed to unswamp our boat and carry on. It made me think of those amazing opportunities that Alleghany afforded me for so many years, that are now gifts in Cece’s life too. Moments like canoe trips, caving, and hiking. Activities where the campers are safe due to the presence of trained staff, but it’s still very much a real, uncontrolled, unadulterated experience. Not a simulation, not contained within a gymnasium or a playground. As Cece has moved through middle school and into her teenage years, I’ve been surprised by how facing unpredictable situations that require real problem solving and a physical, tangible focus are surprisingly rare in our structured, modern world—especially during the school year.
Resilience at school year often feels like a never-ending fight with executive functioning and self-motivation, which are of course important skills. But life at camp (and luckily in some sports like rowing) offer opportunities that are not just about being perfect and getting everything right, but are about being necessary to the moment. For a girl in today’s world where one’s self-worth seems to be taking a perpetual beating, I don’t believe there’s anything that can truly replace the feeling of being needed. It’s these hand-on experiences that require kids to lean into problem-solving with spirit, drive, effort, and creativity that camp provides that are the most precious for our girls today. And I’ll be looking out for more ways to fill Cece’s off-summer life with them as much as possible too.
– Emily Etherington Cox, JC of ’97 and Current Camp Parent
