On possibility
Earlier this month, I drove out to the mountains to pick up my son from a 12-day wilderness/ adventure/education camp. As the sun set over a gorgeous summer evening in the Rockies, we were treated to a closing program that gave us a glimpse into what the 12 days had looked like. Rock climbing, white-water canoeing down the North Saskatchewan River, a 12 km ascent to the top of a mountain, not to mention daily jogging, yoga, team-building exercises, leadership training, coaching on integrity and character development, personal reflection, and journaling—it was quite the itinerary! It sound like the kind of camp that no small number of adults (like, roughly 100 percent of us) would profit immensely from, never mind 15–16 year olds.
It also sounded like the kind of camp that I wouldn’t have obviously thought my son would enjoy. It was physically demanding, for one thing. Some of the days sounded downright grueling. And it thrust him into a social context filled with many unfamiliar people. These have not typically been the kinds of spaces and places that he naturally gravitates toward or finds appealing. And yet, he went. And he had an incredible time. On the final night he was one of the speakers chosen to reflect on his time at the camp. He sounded confident, assured, articulate. Staff members spoke in glowing, even emotional terms of his compassion and helpfulness.
It was one of those moments as a parent where you’re reminded that the kid you see during the inspiring peaks and obstinate valleys of everyday existence isn’t always the kid who is making their way in the world beyond the scope of your observation and awareness. And, of course, one of those moments where you feel your heart might just about burst with pride and gratitude.
