Of all the outdoor adventure trips offered at Rockbrook, whitewater rafting continues to be the most popular. More than kayaking, canoeing, rock climbing (though that’s a clear second), day hiking and backpacking, leaving camp to raft the Nantahala River inspires campers to sign up, even as that means missing their regularly scheduled activities. In fact, I’d estimate 90% of the girls old enough to go —Middlers and Seniors only, due to a Forest Service restriction— elect to take a day trip down the river, or to raft and spend the night at our outpost camp located near the river in Swain County. Rockbrook has been guiding these whitewater trips since the early 1980s, when it received one of the few Forest Service rafting permits awarded organizations. Rockbrook remains the only girls summer camp authorized to guide its own trips like this.
Why is whitewater rafting so popular with our girls?
If you ask the girls, they’ll say things like “It’s just so much fun!” Or, “It’s a thrilling ride.” As you can see from these photos, they are really enjoying it, but is there something special about a rafting adventure that makes it so “awesome?”
Beyond the cool gear you get to wear (a helmet and PDF), the excellent Rockbrook guides steering the rafts down the river, and the sheer novelty of the experience, my hunch is that whitewater rafting is particularly fun for our girls because it is foremost a lighthearted social experience. More so than other adventure sports, rafting is a group event. All down the river, the girls in each boat are together, chatting with each other, singing songs, and reacting to all the bumps and splashes. In particular, each rapid of the river provides an opportunity to laugh hysterically when someone falls into the boat, or even bounces out into the river unexpectedly. Rafting, especially with a group of girls, is simply fun and funny in this way.
Likewise, even though some might wish for something warmer, I think rafting on the Nantahala river is extra fun because the water is always about 53 degrees. It makes every splash more intense, and if someone gets in the water, you can only imagine how that can produce quite a shocking scream!
We’ll be doing more rafting as the session progresses, but for now you can see more photos in the online gallery. It was a great day on the water… Warm and sunny weather, 7 Rockbrook rafts, almost 50 people, and a special experience for everyone.
The first full day of the session, as was today, means several things. First, it’s a chance for the campers to become more familiar with the property and activity areas, to get a better sense of where everything is located. Following their camp tour yesterday, now they venture off on their own to the Alpine climbing tower, the Hillside Lodge for yoga, or Curosty for weaving, for example. There are almost 30 different things to do— organized activities available during the scheduled activity periods —and each has a “home” somewhere in camp.
Imagine all the little pockets of activity spread around Rockbrook… Outdoor adventure instructors explaining how to use special equipment, arts and crafts teachers introducing cool sewing, pottery, or weaving projects, horses being tacked up, bows and arrows nocked. If you scan through today’s photo gallery, you can see the variety of things going on. These girls are impressive already!
What’s even more impressive though, and probably more significant in the long run, is the independence this first day of camp has already brought about in your girls. Remember, at Rockbrook, the campers select their own activities while at camp. Often after much discussion with friends about the options, and “what are you gonna take?” kinds of questions, everyone selects 4 different activities they will try for the first half of the week. For each activity rotation, which happens twice per week, the girls themselves decide how to spend their activity time. Furthermore, during the blocks of free time scheduled throughout the day— before lunch, before dinner, and after dinner —the campers can decide to do even more independent things. With a friend, they might head to the lake for a ride down the water slide, go to the tennis courts to hit a few balls, challenge someone at the tetherball court, or just hang out on the grassy hill enjoying the mountain view.
The very structure of our day, in other words, encourages this budding independence for Rockbrook girls. As they select their daily activities (“Riflery or Drama? Hmmm…”) and decide on their own how to spend free time (“I want to go play in the creek!”), as well as navigate from place to place throughout the day, all while listening for the bell to help make it on time, they grow increasingly confident. They learn firsthand that “I can do it myself.”
As you see your girls smiling and enjoying themselves doing any of the regular in-camp activities offered everyday at camp, at least part of that smile arises from the simple satisfaction, and maybe a little pride, that follows her successful experience of independence. And that’s pretty cool stuff.
Welcome everyone to Rockbrook Camp for its 2014 summer sessions! This is perhaps the most exciting day of the year for all of us at camp because it’s when camp finally comes back to life, when the enthusiasm of campers, the energetic anticipation of staff members, and the many months of careful planning by Rockbrook’s directors join forces again to create this wonderful place. Everyone looks forward to the opening day of first session, especially those of us that think about camp all year long… campers, counselors and directors alike. So welcome! This is going to be a great summer.
In these blog posts, we will report bits and pieces of camp life. In addition to the photo gallery (which you access only after logging into your parent account), these daily posts will provide a little detail about what’s going on at Rockbrook. They won’t be a “full report,” so to speak, but instead something that comes to mind as I recall the day, or feel compelled to comment on a photo or idea drawn from the people and events of camp. I hope you enjoy reading.
“A few butterflies” is how one mom described her daughter’s feeling this morning as the campers were checking in. Even when this might be a girl’s 3rd or 4th year coming to camp, those first moments driving up, meeting your counselor and experiencing the buzz of opening day— it can jangle the nerves. At the same time, it’s a happy feeling because there are smiles everywhere… So many examples of “run-scream-hug your camp friend from last summer” kinds of moments, friendly introductions, and excitement. There might be some jitters at the beginning, but with something this big and enthusiastic that’s pretty normal.
And of course it takes very little time for jitters to soften into a new smile and feelings of belonging. The feeling of camp is just infectious that way.
A little rain overnight made the ground this morning a little soft when we opened (especially our sports field parking area!), but as the morning progressed, the sun held brightly the rest of the day. The girls settled into their cabins, set up their bunks and began to explore Rockbrook. One new find was the Gaga pit. I’ll explain that more later, but think of it as an arena to play a special version of dodgeball. It addition, the campers staying on the lower line of cabins were surprised to find the newly renovated bathroom we call the “Be-Bop.” The “Half-Pint” cabin likewise was rebuilt last fall, making it the newest of our 25 cabins at camp.
The sunny weather made everyone’s “swim demonstrations” pleasant and fun. Our chilly lake, which is kept “mountain stream cool” by the creek that feeds it, can be a little shocking at first, but the encouragement from all of the lifeguards and the directors, as well as the vigor of the swimming itself, make it all a thrill. Bright warm sunshine made it all the better. The results? Everyone who tried, passed and received a green swim tag.
Following the afternoon swims, camp tours, games in the lodges and cabin meetings, as well as a brief assembly on the hill to learn songs and meet this session’s Hi-Ups, we all gathered in the gym to watch the activity instructors and counselors perform short skits and songs to introduce all of the options available to the campers during the activity periods. This included costumes that integrated special gear, like the climbing instructors in this photo, music, props and even a few dance steps from some. These skits are also a neat way for the campers to see that their counselors, just like them, are having fun by acting silly, laughing and being supportive all the while. I did notice about 4 different references to the recent Disney movie Frozen… It’s just a hunch, but that might be a major theme all summer long!
It’s been a perfect opening day of camp. We’re all excited and ready to go.
Even when it seems like the walls are caving in, life can be a total blast. Below are 100 thoughts on how to turn a bad day into a good one. Our camp staff keeps these in their back pockets just in case. Lessons on life that apply!
1. If it seems like the sky is falling, catch it.
2. It’s not the number of zeros on your paycheck that makes you rich.
3. Knowing right from wrong is only half the battle.
4. A smile will do more for your face than any powder, shadow, or serum.
5. Stop signs exist for a reason (as do blinkers).
6. Ask people questions about themselves. They love it.
7. Before a dinner party, memorize at least three jokes.
8. You’re never too old to jump on a trampoline.
9. More than likely, the book is better than the movie.
10. Get to know your neighbors.
11. If you use the last of the toilet paper, change the roll.
12. Hold the door.
13. Admit when you’re wrong.
14. It’s rarely a good idea to cut your own hair.
15. Turn off the TV during dinner.
16. Punxsutawney Phil isn’t always right.
17. It’s better to laugh with, than to laugh at.
18. Stand for something.
19. Things don’t always have to make perfect sense to make perfect sense. Look at Dr. Suess.
20. Just because you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, it doesn’t mean you have to lay there all day.
21. Give your phone a break.
22. Sometimes, homemade pizza is just better.
23. Know your friend’s birthdays.
24. You can cheer on your own team without booing the opposition.
25. Know exactly which documents you need before you go to the DMV.
26. Don’t hit the snooze button more than twice in one morning.
27. Remember that you can choose to be your own worst critic or your own biggest fan. Try to find a balance between the two.
28. The check engine light in your car is not just a suggestion.
29. Never underestimate the power of a thank you note.
30. Your comfort zone is just a jumping off point.
31. Buy Girl Scout cookies.
32. Don’t put the carton of milk back in the fridge if it has anything less than a full glass in it.
33. Even if you don’t celebrate a particular holiday, respect those that do.
34. If your towel is wet, hang it up.
35. Every now and then, get a little dirt underneath your fingernails.
36. You’re going to end up with more Tupperware containers than you’ll have lids to fit them. That’s just how life goes.
37. It’s okay to tell someone if they have something in their teeth.
38. The best wedding guest is the one who dances her heart out when the music starts.
39. Everyone in life can be a teacher.
40. If you’ve laughed so hard that you’ve snorted, it’s been a good day.
41. Be patient with your friends around April 15th. Filing taxes can be stressful.
42. GPSs can make mistakes.
43. Appointment books are a lifesaver.
44. Take advantage of the library.
45. If someone needs an umbrella more than you, give them yours.
46. See the best in people
47. Never stop learning.
48. Set your clock ten minutes early.
49. Learn when to speak up and when to stay quiet.
50. Memorize the Pledge of Allegiance.
51. Leave a big tip.
52. Stay hydrated.
53. Be mindful of your internet presence.
54. Cherish family photo albums.
55. If you meet any couple married for more than 20 years, ask them the secret to love.
56. Spend time outside.
57. Always have an extra cup of sugar on hand for the neighbors.
58. The only way to tell if your sauce is any good is by tasting it yourself.
59. Keep snacks in your purse. Hunger is a grouchy mood’s best friend.
60. Invest time and energy into your relationships with your coworkers.
61. Sometimes, it’s more about the question than the answer.
62. Floss daily.
63. Tone and inflection matter to people’s feelings.
64. When sharing food, give your friend the last bite.
65. Even if someone is driving well below the speed limit, do not tailgate them.
66. Don’t keep tabs on every single debt you are owed.
67. Spend your lifetime believing that you are in the right place at the right time.
68. Every now and then, take out your headphones. Let everyone enjoy your music.
69. Be thankful for every candle on your birthday cake.
70. Never mind the naysayers.
71. Realize that you have a stroke of genius in you.
72. Take healthy risks daily.
73. If you’re walking outside on a cold day, keep a tissue in your pocket.
74. Be more than just how you look.
75. Keep a bowl of candy on your desk.
76. It’s never to late to learn how to swim.
77. If someone asks, “Can you do me a favor?” Say yes whenever possible.
78. Study history.
79. Don’t scratch mosquito bites,.
80. Make a wish on shooting stars, dandelion seeds, face-up pennies, eyelashes, and anytime a clock strikes 11:11.
81. Learn how to identify poison ivy.
82. Even if you don’t love the food, thank the host.
83. Create a bucket list.
84. Don’t always take fashion advice.
85. Always know the date.
86. Divide large projects into a series of smaller, more manageable tasks.
87. Tell loved ones how much they mean to you.
88. Not every flower needs to be picked.
89. Never consider loving chocolate a vice.
90. Invest in a First Aid Kit.
91. Roast a marshmallow every once in a while.
92. Surprise yourself.
93. Remain calm when you stain your shirt or jam the copier.
94. Be okay with mismatched socks.
95. Just because the sky is gray, it doesn’t mean you have to feel blue.
96. If you’re picking someone up at the airport, bring flowers.
97. Don’t ignore mold on food.
98. Laugh daily.
99. Go with your gut.
100. Take every bit of advice with a grain of salt.
I was six years old when I found the ravine. I had heard my older sisters talk about the ravine before, of course, but they had all firmly refused to show me where it was. They had mostly grown out of their days of playing outside by the time I set out to find it, but still they felt there was a certain importance in my finding it on my own—a sort of rite of passage.
And so, every day after first grade, I would press out on my own into the trees behind my house, in search of the ravine (it should be noted that I did not actually know, at the time, what a ravine was—I was, however, assured that I would know it when I saw it).
I don’t remember how long it took me, how many days of searching before I stumbled across it. I don’t remember the season, month, weather, or day of the week it was when I finally emerged from the trees and saw what was, unmistakably, The Ravine—all of those details have faded away across the years. What I do remember was the sense of absolute exhilaration that I felt when I saw the slope of massive gray rocks descending steeply into the stream at the bottom. I had found it: the place for kids, the place where adults never went. This was my place.
My family moved out of that house a few years later, cutting short my time with the ravine. I haven’t been back there since I was a child, but the place still looms large in my imagination as being as big and profound a spot as the Grand Canyon itself. A cursory glance at the land behind my old house on Google Earth, however, tells me that it was nothing more than a (slightly) glorified drainage ditch that stretched for about thirty yards above ground before disappearing beneath it.
My mother’s thoughts on the ravine (once we finally told her, about a year ago, that it had once been our favorite hangout) were less generous still. To her adult eyes, it had been nothing more than a smelly, mosquito-ey, (probably) vermin-infested dump, and she was horrified that we had spent so much time there.
But to us, then and in our memories still, it was paradise.
Thinking about it today, with sensibilities that have been honed by several years of working with children at camp, the thought of a six year old tramping off into the woods by herself makes me immensely nervous. What if I had fallen? What if I had come across a dangerous animal? What if I had tripped and gotten stuck between two of those heavy boulders, and no one had known where to find me? What if I had drowned, or been eaten by a bear, or gotten lost and wandered around aimlessly through the wilds of Mississippi until my parents had given up on ever finding me?
As you can probably guess, none of those things happened. I think I fell and skinned my knee once, but, as tragedies go, that’s not the worst, and I did feel pretty cool walking through the back door at the end of the day with my very own battle wound.
I rarely think about the ravine anymore, but recently I read an article called “The Overprotected Kid,” by Hanna Rosin, and memories of the place came flooding back. Rosin talks at length of the modern lack of once ubiquitous childhood spaces such as mine. I’d imagine a lot of the parents reading this can remember a place of their very own where they went to play. A secret place, usually outside, where they and their friends built forts, played hide and seek, and settled their own problems and sought out their own, individual accomplishments. A place where their parents rarely, if ever, went. I wonder how many of today’s children could say that they have such a place?
Between school, extracurricular activities, and family time at home, modern children spend less and less time away from the direct supervision of adults. On first thought, this seems like a great thing. It’s a dangerous world, after all. If they are always near adults, then we can keep them from taking unnecessary risks, we can intervene when they have conflicts with their siblings or friends, and we can guide them through every challenge that comes their way. If we are vigilant enough, as parents and childcare professionals, then we can protect children from ever suffering the sting of failure, or the anxiety that accompanies facing a new challenge.
But, of course, there is a backlash to this constant supervision. Shield them too much from any sort of discomfort, any sort of risk, any sort of failure, then when the inevitable day comes that they are faced with these things, they might be unequipped to handle it for themselves.
So how do we find the balance between protecting children, and giving them the freedom they need to grow and develop on their own?
You guessed it.
We call Rockbrook “A place where girls can grow” for a reason: 2-4 weeks spent in the heart of our wooded mountain gives girls the chance to make a world for themselves. It gives them the chance to try new things and face the very real chance that they just might not be any good at it: maybe they’ll never hit the target in archery, but they’ll try it anyway. It gives them the chance to craft their own set of cabin rules with their peers, and teaches them to hold themselves and each other accountable, without the interference of adults. It teaches them to find the joy of climbing to the very top of the mountain, while still having an appreciation and respect for the risks and struggles it takes to get there. It gives them the chance to grow.
I’m certainly not saying that campers at Rockbrook are unsupervised—far from it. They are always within sight and earshot of at least one counselor, adventure guide, or director. But the beauty of staffing our camp with college-age counselors is that they are in the unique position of being at once an authority figure, and a “cool” older kid, around whom our campers feel entirely comfortable to be their quirky, crazy, energetic selves.
We value our counselors for the responsibility and trustworthiness for which we hired them. The camp girls value our counselors because they can behave more naturally with them than they would with “normal” adults (they know, for example, that their counselors will not bat an eye should they spontaneously decide to show up at dinner wearing a batman costume and a tiara).
We give the campers supervision that doesn’t feel like supervision. We let them take risks—like climbing up rock-faces and hurtling down whitewater rapids in a raft—that feel like risks, but are supervised by professionals who know exactly how to keep them safe. When the campers fight with one another, often we let them work out the dispute among themselves. We’ll be nearby, and will intervene if necessary, but we know that they have the tools necessary to solve their own problems, and they will be the stronger for it afterward.
They might gain some bumps and bruises along the way. You might pick up your child on closing day with a freshly skinned knee, or a bee sting, or a story of the unkind words a fellow camper said to her. But delve deeper into these stories and you’ll find that the skinned knee was acquired on an incredible hike to the top of Looking Glass Rock. The bee sting hurt, sure, but a counselor or nurse was standing by with an Epi-pen, just in case, and now your daughter has learned all about the signs that might signal anaphylactic shock. Maybe she never quite came to like the girl who said unkind things, but she did learn that she has the strength and maturity to live peacefully with a person that she’s not fond of—a skill that we all know can come in handy later in life.
There’s no need to worry that, in sending your child off to camp, you are letting them loose in the world of “Lord of the Flies.” We have plenty of rules and procedures in place designed to keep all of our campers as safe as possible. Safety is always our first priority. But our very close second priority is to offer the girls a world in which they have agency, responsibility, and daily experiences that challenge them, and even make them a little nervous or uncomfortable.
Not to worry—they won’t be hiking off into the woods by themselves in search of nearby ravines, as I once did. But I can promise you that every single camper will experience, at least once in their time at Rockbrook, that same exhilaration I felt the first time I ever felt a sense of ownership over an accomplishment that was fully and completely my own.
The first time I ever saw Rockbrook was in July of 1999. I was eight-years-old, and my two-week session was to be the longest I had ever been away from my parents. I was so nervous that I could hardly sit still in the car ride up the mountain. Whenever anybody asked me, of course, I’d tell them that I couldn’t wait for camp to start. I had memorized the activities listed in the catalogue, and picked out exactly which ones I was going to sign up for first (Riflery, Archery, Sports and Games, and Tennis, if you were wondering). I was excited. But I was also scared to death.
I vividly remember standing halfway up the hill that day, with my counselor’s hand on my shoulder, watching as my parents got into their car to leave.
It’s not too late, I remember thinking to myself. I can still call to them, or just jump in the car and let them take me home.
But I stayed quiet, and I stayed put (I was much too stubborn, even then, to admit that I might have been scared), and it wasn’t long after I saw their car disappear down the driveway that I forgot all about those butterflies that had been giving me second thoughts. That moment on the hill was the only instant of homesickness that I ever remember feeling at camp. Of course, thinking about it logically, fifteen years later, I know that there must have been other moments in which I felt lost and overwhelmed in this new environment—but those moments are so fully overshadowed by the memories of my first camp friends, the first time I ever held a bow, and my first time stepping into the most wonderfully boisterous Dining Hall my eight-year-old eyes had ever beheld, that only that first instant of uncertainty has managed to stick in my memory.
There are plenty of campers, new and returning, who come to camp every year and don’t look back, just as I did. They are too excited and too busy to have any time for homesickness. But there are just as many, if not more, who don’t find it so easy to be away from home for the first time.
I have seen campers deal with homesickness every year that I have been at camp, each in her own way. There are those who hold it in, keeping a stiff upper lip with the understanding that it’ll get easier if they don’t think about it. There are those who become sad and listless, and can’t bring themselves to fully partake in their activities. There are those who throw temper tantrums. And then there are those who are simply scared, terrified to be away from the safety net that they know and trust for the first time.
As a parent sending your child into someone else’s care for the first time, I know that the thought of which of these reactions your own daughter will have must be at the forefront of your mind. The truth is, there’s no way to tell what form her homesickness will take—if any at all—until the day comes. It may be that your daughter takes to the camp lifestyle like a duck to water, and will beg you on closing day to let her stay forever. On the other hand, it is just as possible that you will be getting a letter from her three days into camp, begging you to come and fetch her right away, with her tearstains circled on the page for good measure.
Your first instinct upon finding out that your daughter is scared and upset without you will of course be to come and rescue her immediately. After all, if she’s afraid, then how could she have the presence of mind to learn and grown in all the ways that camp has to offer? If she is crying to her counselor during rest hour, how will she have the time or energy to make friends with her peers? While this is a perfectly understandable response, I hope you’ll think twice before taking the step of ending her camp experience before it’s really even begun. And it might not be easy. In all the preparations leading up to camp, in all the conversations with your daughter about what it will be like for her to be away, it’s easy to forget that your daughter’s homesickness will be just as hard for you.
So if the moment comes that you find yourself reaching for your keys, considering driving to Brevard to pick up your daughter without a second thought, here are a few things I hope you’ll remember:
Whatever form homesickness takes, it is almost always fleeting. The first few days of camp—when your daughter is still working through the first stages of friendship with her cabinmates, figuring out her way around camp, and feeling like she just doesn’t quite “get” camp yet—are always going to be the hardest. But things move fast at camp. Within a week, she will have at least one friend whom she will consider her Best Friend Ever, she will be navigating the camp property like a pro, and singing the camp songs at mealtimes just as loudly and enthusiastically as everyone else. Chances are, by the time you’ve received the artfully tearstained letter, she will already have forgotten that she ever asked you for rescue.
Our staff knows how to help her. Between your daughter’s counselors, her activity instructors, and the camp directors, she will be surrounded at all times by compassionate adults wanting to help her to love camp as much as we do. Our staff is trained intensively, taught to recognize the signs of homesickness, even if your daughter is doing her best to hide it. Whether she needs to talk it out, or just to be distracted until the feeling passes, the Rockbrook staff is there to help.
She wants to love camp. This is often a tough one to remember: nobody wants to be homesick. She’ll see other campers enjoying all that camp has to offer, and she will want to be enjoying it right along with them. Lots of times, what homesick campers really want is not necessarily to be taken home, but rather to feel just as comfortable within the camp community as they do at home. Some girls reach that level of comfort right away, while others take a little while longer. If given the time to get her bearings, often the homesickness will vanish on its own.
We always appreciate your help. It might be tempting, in this instance, to ask us to let you speak to your daughter on the phone—after all, you have more experience than anyone in calming her fears and making her feel safe. We’ve found, though, that such phone calls nearly always make the situation worse—in fact, I can guarantee that every phone call home will end in tears. Even if hearing your voice makes her feel better at first, once she hangs up the phone, she will have to start the process of separation from you all over again. But, that doesn’t mean you can’t help! We know that you are the expert on your daughter. You know her favorite games, her comfort foods, the stories that can put her to sleep. The directors and your daughter’s counselors will be working with your daughter through her homesickness, and we are happy to talk to you anytime about any tips you might have on how to make her camp experience as rewarding as possible.
Hard as it is, she will come through it much stronger than before. It’s not always easy for us to recognize when a difficult situation is changing us in positive ways. If your daughter is homesick, all she will be able to recognize in the moment is that she is feeling scared and alone, and she would like to stop feeling that way. It’s a bit too much to ask for an eight-year-old to see that her current discomfort will make her a stronger, more independent person, which is why we as a staff and as parents need to remember it for her. Because there will come a triumphant moment for her as camp goes on, when she realizes that her homesickness is gone. But even if that moment never comes—even if her homesickness lasts the whole length of camp (which can happen, though it’s rare), she’ll still come out of it stronger than before. She will realize, maybe for the first time in her life, that she has the strength within her to withstand a truly challenging situation. She won’t forget that the next time another of those situations comes along.
Homesickness is a serious matter, and we treat it as such at camp. We never ignore it if a camper seems homesick; we are proactive about helping them through it, and keeping you, as her parents, updated on her progress. But the first brush with homesickness in childhood is not a circumstance to be avoided. It’s a formative, if sometimes painful experience, that prepares your child for those difficult moments to come—the first day of high school, the first day of a new job—when she might feel disoriented or out of her element, and help is not near at hand.
It’s important to prepare both your daughter and yourself for the challenges she might face in acclimating to camp. You should let her know that there is no shame in feeling homesick—in fact, it’s something that almost everyone feels at some point in their camp experience, whether or not they show outward signs of it. Most importantly though, it is critical avoid making any “pick-up deals,” or promises that you will come and get her right away the moment she asks. If your daughter knows the possibility is on the table, then what motivation is there for her to work through the issues on her own? Tell her how confident you are in her ability to make it through without your help—with your vote of confidence, and the knowledge that there’s no “easy out” at her disposal, she will be much more likely to grit her teeth and persevere.
Sometimes I wonder if I had actually called out to my mom, that day in 1999, if she would have let me climb into the car and drive back to safety. If she would have told me that we could leave camp for another year, taken me out for ice cream to make me feel better, then brought me home. I probably would have thanked her for it that day. I certainly would have felt more comfortable with that turn of events than I was standing on that hill with a virtual stranger.
But sitting here in the Rockbrook office fifteen years later, looking back on all the tangible ways I can point to that my experiences with camp have made me a better and a stronger person, I really hope she would have told me no.
I’m excited to start a new camper spotlight segment on our blog called, “Rockbrook Girls: Out and About”. It will allow us to keep up with our camp friends throughout the year, learn some new fun facts about them, and to hear about all of the cool things Rockbrook girls are doing outside of camp.
I’m happy to introduce our first participant, Eva, from Brevard. Eva will be coming to our third session this summer.
Eva in her role as Cinderella for her schools production of “Into the Woods”. She was awesome!
Check out Eva’s answers to our interview questions below. I think it’s a safe bet that she will be signing up for archery as often as she can. She’ll be shooting like Katniss in no time! Eva also listed Peter and the Starcatchers as her favorite book. If you’re looking for a new book to read, this one is a real page-turner. Learn more about it here.
If you want to be part of our camper spotlight, email us for more parent information. We can’t wait to hear from you!
This Sunday, February 16th, 2014, Rockbrook will host members of the Carolina Mountain Land Conservancy for a hiking excursion to both Rockbrook Falls and Castle Rock on the Rockbrook Camp property. Jeff Carter will join historian Keith Parker to lead the hike and provide information about the local area and the camp.
The Carolina Mountain Land Conservancy (now called, Conserving Carolina”) is a nonprofit organization dedicated to “creating a regional network of permanently protected farm, forest, and natural land. [It] protects forested wilderness, working farms, clean drinking water, verdant trout streams, wildlife habitat and sweeping views,” according to its Web site.
Working together with Rockbrook in 2010, CMLC successfully placed 115 acres of the camp property into a protected easement insuring the natural beauty and unique habitat of Dunn’s Creek, Dunn’s Rock, Castle Rock and surrounding forest.
Rockbrook Camp is located 4 miles south of Brevard, North Carolina and is home to dramatic rock cliffs, waterfalls, and record trees. The camp was founded in 1921.
For more information about this hike, or to make a reservation to attend, please visit the CMLC Web site.
When I was a junior in high school, my drama teacher set my class two challenges, each designed to get us thinking creatively:
Write down as many uses for a brick as you can think of.
Draw three creatures that do not exist, and that are combinations of a bunch of different animals. Use as much detail as you can.
The first challenge was a cinch. I’ve been writing fiction ever since I could hold a pen, and still can switch on daydreams as real as a TV show whenever I get bored. If you ask me to use my imagination to think up impossible things, I’m on solid ground.
Sure, I listed the usual (boring) uses for a brick: house construction, paperweight, impromptu dumb-bell, etc. But then came the fun ones: a piece of a giant’s Lego set, an impenetrable fortress for ant-armies, Twinkie-holder, napkin ring at a brick-layers’ convention, etc.
All this is to say, if you’re looking for something to do with that pile of bricks you have lying around your house for some reason, I’m your girl.
But then came challenge number two. Sure I could think of imaginary animals—how about a zebra-striped cow, with the head of a horse, the legs of a mini-elephant, and the horns of a water buffalo? Oh, and it can talk like a parrot! Oh, and maybe it can jump like a kangaroo! Oh yeah, the ideas were coming fast.
There was just one problem. I can’t draw. Not at all. Even stick figures are a struggle for me. I stared at that blank piece of paper, listening to the excited pencil-scratching coming from my neighbors’ desks, and my cheeks began to burn. I was the only one not drawing.
I just sat there, with my head down, until the activity was over. I couldn’t even let myself try. I couldn’t even permit a doodle. I couldn’t take the risk that the beautiful image I had in my head might not translate onto paper. Better to be scolded by my teacher for failing to complete the activity, than for it to be known that I might be less than excellent at something. So I just sat there, almost in tears, until the papers were collected.
I’ve thought about that moment a lot since then. Why hadn’t I even tried? Why had I assumed the result would be that horrible, without taking the simple step of just beginning? Why had I decided by the end of elementary school that I Am Not An Artist? End of story, no question about it, no need to try.
So many times, both in camp and out of camp, I see young girls give up on things before they’ve even begun.
“No, I can’t take pottery, I’m not artsy.”
“No way am I going to try out for basketball, I’m not athletic at all.”
“I can’t take the swim test. I’ve never been much of a swimmer.”
Somehow, it has become part of our mindset that our talents, our levels of intelligence and understanding, and our potential for achievement are set in stone from the very beginning. The thoughts that were racing through my mind that day in drama class consisted entirely of, I was bad at drawing in elementary school. Therefore, I am bad at drawing now. Therefore, I will always be bad at drawing, no matter how hard I try. Therefore, I should not try.
I know I’m not the only one that thinks this way. We have become so afraid of failure, because we think that that failure defines us even more than the successes that come afterwards. Sure, we know that da Vinci didn’t paint the Mona Lisa the first time he ever touched a paintbrush, and yet somehow we still think that if we fail the first time, then we will inevitably fail every time, with no shot at improvement.
But this is wrong. This is so wrong! Why should I, at 23 years old, have already decided which categories I belong in (Good Writer, Good Reader, Not-Good Drawer, Not-Good Dancer), and given up on changing any of them? Why should a 10 year old camper stand frozen at the edge of the dock on swim demo day, just because somebody told her one time that she wasn’t a very fast swimmer? Why should we throw away the chance to surprise ourselves with new, enjoyable experiences, in an attempt to save our pride from the sting of failure?
So here’s the challenge (you knew this was coming): allow yourself to be bad at something once a day. It can be a brand new experience, or an old one that you gave up on long ago. If you’re a bad dancer, then dance like a crazy person with your friends, and laugh when they tell you you’re not so good. If you gave up on piano after one lesson, sit down and bang out “Chopsticks” on the keys, and laugh when you hit a bad note. If you have always wanted to be a poet, then write down that poem that you have bouncing around in your head, and then laugh when you realize it sounds more like a Hallmark Card than Emily Dickinson.
That’s right: laugh. Train yourself to find the joy in failure. When that sinking feeling comes along that tells you to run away from the challenge before it becomes too much, then laugh it away, and try again. And again. And again. And again. Sure, maybe you’ll never be dancing at center stage in Radio City Music Hall, or tickling the ivories like Stevie Wonder, or becoming the next US Poet Laureate—but hey, maybe you will. You’ll never know unless you embrace the possibility that you might just fail, and then go for it anyway.
As for me, I’m still not a great drawer. But I hope that Mr. McFarland will accept this late addition to the creativity project. May I present, the Zebreleffow:
