I have spent the past ten summers involved, somehow, someway, with Camp Silver Beach on the eastern shore of Virginia. The past four summers I worked there, and the past two I lived there for 13 weeks. I am the epitome of a camp kid. I have countless camp T-shirts, at least six scars from injuries sustained at summer camp (rollerblading will mess you up if you’re not careful) and enough cheers and songs stored in my brain that at any moment I could easily burst out into loud noises, just to entertain a crowd. I think all of my college friends are probably sick of me talking about camp, especially because the experience is hard to put into words. No one understands painting your face, dressing in all red and wearing bug antennas just because it’s a Wednesday and Wednesday is house day and (house) FIREFLY AIN’T NOTHING TO MESS WITH.
When I find fellow camp counselors, no matter the camp, I get excited. All camp people understand the plight and wonders of working with children. We love to trade camp stories and relive our summer days. We swap tie-dye tips and best games to play. We gripe about how nothing compares to the oasis that camp is. And ultimately, traditions vary from camp-to-camp. However, the key emotional truths remain the same. A fellow camp counselor and great friend once told me summer camp was all about “reckless kindness,” and that line is the only way I can describe what really goes on there.
Reckless kindness is this notion that above all else, your immediate reaction is to be kind. Sounds obvious, right? But in an age of quick correction, being kind is often put on the bottom of the list. We’ve all heard “kill them with kindness” when it comes to operating with someone you don’t necessarily like. But with reckless kindness, you forget to not like them in the first place. Your knee jerk response is just genuine human sympathy.
At summer camp, this means every kid you talk to is important and valued, even the more rambunctious or even disrespectful kids. You do a good job of making sure you listen and ask questions, even if it’s just a five-second bond about how delicious breakfast is. This is the fastest way to gain respect among kids and acquire a plethora of friendship bracelets. Even when a kid is being awful, you try your hardest to show compassion and concern. As you shush all your giggling campers during rest period for the 15th time, even as you may get frustrated, all it takes is one burp from the kid in the bunk above you to have the whole cabin laughing, yourself included. We are all human.
Reckless kindness in the real world is harder to practice. It’s easier to forgive children than adults. It’s easier to push past your personal problems and just try to wake up each day and “do good” when you get to work alongside 80 like-minded individuals to herd goofy kids around. Reckless kindness in the real world can be, well, reckless. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.
The world can be a horrible place. People will do wrong and do you wrong. Why add to that cycle with more negativity? If someone makes a mistake, don’t immediately point it out. If someone asks you a question, don’t insult him or her or them. If someone is rude to you, don’t let it consume you. Maybe the person was having an awful day, or maybe the person was going through a rough patch. Sometimes, someone is just a bad person, but who cares? You can’t change them and you are not required to interact with them 24/7. Most of the time though, humans are humans — flawed, critical and sometimes rude. But if you show them kindness, you make the world a tiny bit better.
Reckless kindness is not some hippie-mantra where everyone is nice to everyone all the time and no one hates anyone. That’s not reality. We are all guilty of being judgmental. But talking to someone, truly listening and showing compassion, can absolve that negativity. Why waste valuable energy on being an ass? Reckless kindness means you leave room for more of the good stuff. You don’t worry about the world or individuals owing you anything.
It’s not a perfect system and I am no perfect proprietor. But I think back to all of the campers I’ve ever had — all of the campers I’ve had the pleasure of interacting with, even the campers that have been more difficult. Bad attitudes are often just symptoms of feeling misunderstood. This applies to both campers and crotchety adults. Reckless kindness means trying to genuinely understand.
We are all human, failing desperately at trying to hold in one burp at a time.
