“You can leave camp but camp never seems to leave you.”
I had a thought this morning that there are some lessons from summer camp that can apply to our current situation. I try to draw inspiration from anything I can in an attempt to keep my mindset positive and my motion forward.
When walking the beach with my dogs (and cat tagging along) where I meet up with a neighbor and her dog (both of us walking in face masks – six feet apart) she shared with me this morning that she is no longer watching television. She (who is a physician) is feeling hopeless and powerless. She and her physician husband care for her senior mother and nearly teenager daughter. With all this responsibility they are thinking about what kind of world we are creating with all the decisions that are being made in our political system.
Hopelessness and powerlessness lead to anxiety, depression, inactivity, and possibly acting out. It is not a road I want to travel or want to see my neighbor walking that path for long.
Our walk along the shores of Lake Erie with our beloved pets was renewing. The fog of the rain was still blocking the sun. The water was quiet without waves. We saw blue herons flying and fishing and standing still. We picked up beach glass and beach trash. I share some acts of kindness stories that were from an NPR program I had heard. We lifted our gaze to the greening trees and listened to the birds. And we found our grounding together.
My walks on the beach are a mini summer camp experience. I think to be outdoors, moving, in nature, planning art projects with my drift wood and beach glass is my connection to summer camp and why I live in this little cottage close to the lake. I knew that water was a source for my well-being. And this morning I realized its connection back to a time when I was blissfully happy at summer camp.
As I continued through my morning, which includes visiting my 90 year old neighbor whose wife is in memory care, I made my second contact for the day. My neighbor is really taking self-isolating seriously and we keep our distance when visiting. However, I can tell he likes the conversation and the daily connection from ten feet away.
We need each other. We need connection. We need to talk and think and reason our way through this time of great uncertainty. It is like sitting around the campfire together.
In 2008 I was working with Cleveland Works Steel Mill here in Cleveland when our economy hit a wall. This mill having been bankrupted twice and rebirthed, reorganized, acquired, and then merged was now to shut down its blast furnaces. This, of course, brought back memories and triggered fear throughout the workforce. The General Manager said strongly and confidently to 2200 employees, “The lights may go out, the heat may be turned off but we will gather together around a fire and stay together until this passes and we emerge strong again.” I remember the message vividly and the impact it had on morale.
When the going gets tough — we hang together was the message. But the visual of sitting around the fire like we do each evening at summer camp was reassuring. No one is left behind.
Another big lesson from summer camp that I remembered this morning —from both my years as a camper and a camp counselor — was that when we were involved in the water at a lake or pool we were always asked to buddy up. It was our responsibility to watch over our each other. When the whistle sounded, you got out of the water and found your buddy. This is how everyone was kept safe.
I think we need to buddy-up again. And more than that, I think if you are a manager or leader you need to check in with every person for whom you give leadership. Not to see if they are working but simply to see if they are well. To make sure that during this time that no one feels hopeless or powerless for too long; and definitely that no one goes under water.
As a camp counselor, I was a life guard and trained in first aid. What would it mean to use that metaphor and think of our roles with others as if we were each a life guard? How do we let them do their work and play, and yet insure their safety? What kind of life guard would you be?
I always walked around, talked to people, and gave little swimming lessons along the way. I smiled a lot and kept my eyes on the water. And because this role is exhausting and you can’t do it 24-hours a day, I also took breaks.
A tough lesson that I learned as a life guard that I think applies to this situation is that when going into the water to rescue a struggling person if in their fear they climbed atop you and wouldn’t accept your help – you don’t risk your life to save theirs. You wait until you can help them safely. I am taking this as the direction to keep myself well and not do anything that would compromise my health so that I won’t infect someone else.
Does this summer camp metaphor work for you? What from your experience do you think applies to this tumultuous time?
Today, I am going to wear my comfortable camp clothes, be outside, buddy-up and check-in, keep myself safe, work some, play some, and end the day with s’mores and a camp fire. My family zoom call feels a little like the camp fire of the 21st Century.
Who knows? Being the weekend, I might even do a craft project.
Leslie
“When you’re down on your luck and you’ve lost all your dreams,
there’s nothing like a campfire and a can of beans.”
— Tom Waits