The Silence of Summer Camp: Reflections on Parenting and Personal Growth
Both of my kids are away at a 5-night sleepaway camp this week. It's the second year that we've done this, and I am struck again at how hard it can be. Parenting is just full of contradictions: it's hard to be around your kids and needed every day, and it's hard to be away from your kids and grapple with who you are outside of this all-consuming role.
Leaving can be hard for the kids, of course. My younger daughter was stressed about having trouble making friends, even though she never has trouble making friends. They have to deal with homesickness in ways that are so foreign to our modern life. They have to grapple with different food, different schedules, different needs of those around them. I think we all know how fostering that sort of independence is one of the most important things you can do for your children, and I feel such a sense of privilege that we can provide that experience for them.
But what is less expected is how hard it can be for the parents as well. It's almost like quitting a drug cold turkey. For most of life, all you want is space, rest, and time to yourself. But within that feeling of overwhelm is also a sense of purpose, and the comfort that you know exactly where your child is and what they are doing. Then you drop them off and suddenly it's just silence. You have to trust these strangers and institutions to care as much about your children as you do. We are allowed no contact, and within that unknown, it's easy to let your mind run away with all the what-ifs in life.
It would be nice if they just sent regular updates like "they're still alive! Nothing to see here!" But in real life, you don't get regular updates of okay-ness. No news is truly good news. And really, all you want is to raise strong, independent children, who are confident in their own values, and can make their own way in the world. So I've come to see these regular summer camps as practice for the day coming when they move out and truly start a life separate from your own.
Given so much space this week, I've had some time to think more about what parenting teaches you about life.
Hard things can be meaningful
This is a tough one for non-parents to understand. Parenting isn't fun. I truly don't think most people are cut out for it. But if you are up for the challenge, it can open up depths of character that were previously untapped. These kinds of experiences are so counter-cultural, where we always chase comfort and short-term fun. But realizing the meaning that can come from challenge is a perspective that can serve you for the rest of your life.
As much as I love my childless friends, there is a level to me that they will never be able to understand.
It makes mortality real
Memento mori. Remember you will die. Nothing makes that more real than watching daily the changes that come so quickly as a child grows. They are so young and fragile, and yet you know someday they too will be old and fade from this life. And keeping that truth close at hand can help you truly appreciate the hard, boring, monotonous days.
It helps you own your own values
There are no half-measures in a parent's life. Whatever you choose, you have to mean it. Making time for your health and hobbies is hard-fought. It's so easy to fall into suboptimal habits and relationships when you are single.
"Sure, why not sign up for that other thing, it sounds fun I guess." Decisions are never made in that spirit when you are a parent. The bar for what is a worthwhile use of time becomes so much higher when every moment is an opportunity cost and every commitment sacrifices something else. This forces you to really take a hard look at your own life, and clarifies what really matters to you. This is the first step in living a truly good life.
Parenting is a journey that transforms us in ways we never expected. It challenges us, teaches us, and ultimately helps us grow into better versions of ourselves. Whether you're a parent or not, the lessons of embracing difficulty, facing mortality, and owning your values are universal.