Let’s see…it’s the third weekend in July, which puts us deeply in the midst of Parents Visiting Day at various sleepaway camps throughout the country.  My daughter, Sofie, tried sleepaway camp the past two summers so I clearly know the horror that is Parents Visiting Day.

We were not prepared the first summer.  We had arrived at the scheduled time with the requested homemade chocolate chip cake (decorated with a daisy in honor of the Daisy Bunk), fresh Archie comics, and additional pairs of underwear (also requested). 

We pressed into the locked gates with hundreds of other parents, like horses waiting for the gun to fire and the race to start.  The other parents were seasoned.  They had arrived early.  As soon as the gates opened, they dashed to the dining hall, secured tables and proceeded to fill said tables with delicacies from every known restaurant in New York City.  Out came deli and bagels and lox and even sushi!  You would think these kids hadn’t eaten in four weeks.  And don’t get me started about the balloon centerpieces and gifts. Mini-Bar Mitzvahs were being hosted around the room.  And there we were with my little homemade cake.

We spent the rest of the day touring the camp with Sofie, seeing where she played tennis, watching a reprise of the camp play, meeting her friends and counselors, and gathering up any finished craft projects to bring home (I remember a particularly funny moment running into a friend of mine who held up her son’s popsicle stick puppets while commenting, “Wow, I can see how this is worth $8,000!”)

What is it about summer camp?  We’ve learned from various demographic studies that sending our children to Jewish summer camp is one of (if not the) best things we can do to ensure that they will remain affiliated, connected Jewish adults.  But why?  What happens at camp that does not happen at home?  And why is sending our children away for a 4-7 week camp something that many of our non-Jewish friends cannot comprehend?

So I got in touch with Roger Bennett, who, along with Jules Shell, is the author of Camp Camp:  Where Fantasy Island Meets Lord of the Flies.  Bennett and Shell are also the team behind the very funny Bar Mitzvah Disco.  Just to give you some background on Bennett, he was named one of Forward magazine’s 50 most influential people in Jewish philanthropy in 2007.  He is a Vice President of the Andrea and Charles Bronfman Philanthropies and the founder of Reboot, “an incubator for Jewish art and culture.”

This photo album of white lipstick, big hair, sweat socks and scrunchies is a tribute to my generation.  If you grew up in the 80s you will find yourself reminiscing about summer camp (even if you didn’t actually attend camp!)  And I expected Bennett to talk about how camp gives kids that vital Jewish life immersion that they may not get at home.

But that’s not what he talked about.  Bennett explained that camp is the American story—well lived by Jews in America.  It’s a four-generation journey from tradition to modernity. The quintessential suburban story, from city to suburbs.  Poverity to affluence.

It’s a humorous book but underlying it are questions about how we became who we are.

Camp Camp was the natural follow up to Bar Mitzvah Disco.  He explained that b’nai mitzvah is a wonderful piece of ritual where overnight children are called adults.  Jewish children have to face their adolescent selves in spotlight.  After spotlight is turned off, they are no longer men and women.

Camp is when children truly came of age.  Campers told Bennett that they lived their life for ten months in black and white and two month in color.  Camp was a compressed world run by kids.  Camp allowed them to try on new personas—at camp they could become anything—a cut up, a ladies man, a clotheshorse.  So many former campers shared stories of “At home I was a nerd, at camp I was an incredible athlete.”

True, at the end of summer, we went back to being nerds, to being the last picked for the team in gym class, but the feeling, the knowing that we didn’t have to be the little, nerdy Jewish boy or girl—that we could be so much more than the stereotype, stayed with the campers as much as singing Kahol v’Lavan for color war or having races that pitted the fasters against the non-fasters on Tisha B’Av.  It’s a world where we tried on adult hats with a confidence and cockiness allowed only because it would only last for the summer.

 

Bennett and gang are at work on their next book Tried to Rock.  If you (or anyone you know) were EVER in a rock bank (even if for 5 minutes in your basement or garage) and have pictures or stories, email him via the blog http://triedtorock.blogspot.com/.  They are hoping many women "rockers" (inspired by Pat Benatar maybe?)

will come forward.

 

 

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