Chronicles of Chaos

June 22, 2010 | Print

First Day of Camp

I dropped Wyatt off for his first day of camp this morning. It’s a science camp held at a local elementary school.  He loves science and after looking over his summer options last month, including not going to a camp this week at all, chose to attend. He knows no one who’s going to the camp, has never been to the school before today. I left him at the curb with a friendly camp counselor, and they walked into the building to join the other campers. I waited until I couldn’t see them anymore and then stood there awhile longer.

At a Challenge Success conference this spring, I listened to a Stanford administrator lecture about the importance of letting our children experience and figure out more of life on their own. When children are young, offering places to explore and practice these skills occurs in the safety (for them and us) of almost complete parent oversight. Beyond the preschool ages, Wyatt’s now six years old, a new territory outside these boundaries emerges as if on cue–like this first day of camp. Internally, I have not yet adjusted to the program. I run through potential risk scenarios in my head as I drive up to the camp drop off zone. I silently debate protocols–walk him inside, make friends with the counselor, evaluate facility cleanliness. Instead, I watch Wyatt’s cues. I want to encourage his confidence and comfort level, rather than doubt him with my protective habits. He hops out of the car, seems comfortable with the counselor and away they go.

As a three year old, Wyatt had no interest in going to preschool alone. He didn’t like being left there, he was unconvinced of the socialization benefits. We waited until he was four years old to go back to school, and even then we worked through more of a transition process than we experienced with his older sister at that age. By kindergarten, Wyatt walked into the classroom ready to participate. He has no worries about trying a new program or activity where he will be with strangers in an unknown environment. His curiosity and confidence grow from these experiences. I benefit too, from relaxing my instincts to caretake his physical spaces. I’m here to support him, not hold onto him. And that support becomes less physical for me as he gets older. Watching Wyatt step into his abilities helps me reshape my parenting habits to give him more autonomy. We’re shifting together and apart, which so far I observe appears more natural on his part than mine!

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