Camp Green Lane 100th Summer Blog Post

I wandered over to the Greeks’ evening activity last night under the pretense of helping set up. In reality? I just wanted a sneak peek.

My son is in Delta, and we have an unspoken agreement to give each other plenty of space. It’s his last summer as a camper and my first year back on upper staff in 14 years. I want him to have this time with his friends, without Mom popping up every five minutes.

But this activity sounded too good to miss.

The counselors had created a version of karaoke roulette. They chose both the groups and the songs, then hit play. No planning. No rehearsing. No strategic friend-picking. No time to worry.

And if you’ve ever spent time with 15- and 16-year-olds, you know that’s a pretty remarkable thing.

This is the age where almost everything feels like it carries enormous weight. How do I look? Do I sound terrible? What if I don’t know the words? What if I’m with people I don’t usually hang out with? What if I embarrass myself?

The “what ifs” can be endless.

Except…they weren’t.

Within seconds, campers who probably would have sworn they’d never sing in front of a crowd were belting out everything from Motown to Frozen to The Backstreet Boys. They performed with people outside their usual circles. They laughed when they forgot, or didn’t know, the words. They made up choreography on the spot. The audience cheered just as loudly for the off-key performances as they did for the surprisingly talented ones and sang along to each and every song.

Nobody was trying to be cool.

Nobody was standing on the sidelines judging.

Nobody cared.

Or maybe a better way to put it is this: nobody had to care.

That’s one of the greatest gifts of camp.

The self-consciousness that can define so much of the school year quietly fades away here. The pressure to curate every moment, to worry about how you’re perceived, to wonder if you’re fitting in… it loosens its grip.

Camp gives kids permission to be loud. To be goofy. To take risks. To sing songs they don’t know with people they might not normally choose. To laugh at themselves. To cheer wildly for everyone else.

For an hour, they weren’t teenagers trying to protect their image.

They were just kids.

Watching from the back of the room, I realized that’s what I was really there to see. Not the activity itself, but the freedom it created.

It’s easy to think camp is about the big events, the traditions, or the schedule.

But sometimes, the magic is simply watching a room full of teenagers forget to be self-conscious.

And for a little while, that’s exactly what happened.

We’re heading to the Iron Pigs game this evening. Aw Shucks Corn, here we come!

– Aunt Robin