The Call

Today, we got "the call" from Rain's overnight camp. Star called me afterward and we had a long talk, as most parents would upon receiving word that their child was choosing not to participate in camp activities and was behaving in a disruptive manner. My first question was, "Oh shit, what did he do?" But by the end of our conversation, I realized that what Rain had "done" was less important (as his infractions seem very minor) than the fact that we had gotten the call in the first place. It is said that idle hands are the devil's workshop and I want to ask, "Why is anyone allowing my son to be so idle?"

On drop-off day, as we helped Rain get set up in his cabin, Star and I saw immediately that there would most likely be problems with his cabin assignment, as he was obviously the oldest in his cabin. Rain is a sophisticated only child who grew up in his parents' cafes, surrounded by adults. He has traveled a fair amount, lived on both coasts, and seen the difficult realities of life up close. While he is still a child, he is no babe in arms. He has always, always most closely resembled a cross between Lenny Bruce and Bambi- equal parts scathing, dead-on, witty social commentary and too-long legs skittering wildly across glittering ice, big eyes wide open and awestruck. Because he missed the cut-off for starting public school by a day, Rain has always been the oldest in his class, which meant that every-other year he would be a full two years older than half of his class. While his actual peers (the kids his age to whom he is naturally drawn and relates, all of his closest friends) are about to start high school, Rain will enter 8th grade this fall, a chasm too great to ignore. For Rain's entire life, we have watched as systems have continually failed to serve him- unwilling to place him with his peers unless he shows that he's "doing the work," unwilling to accept that it's only when placed with his peers that he will "do the work." This camp session seems to be unfolding in a similar fashion and I want to know, Who is going to step up and show my son that they care enough about him to engage him in the program, instead of allowing him to opt out of activities or loiter and cause trouble? If I'm getting the phone call, who's not doing their job?

On that first day, I went to the camp director and asked, "Is Rain married to that cabin, or can something be done to accommodate him more appropriately?" I explained, yet again, that Rain functions better when placed with kids either a year or two older than he, rather than with kids either his own age or younger. When placed with younger kids, Rain backslides, seems to regress, goofs off, acts out, turns into a disruptive presence. But with older kids, he strives to keep pace and participates fully, because he wants to be accepted by his peers and because there's just no opportunity to goof off- he's too busy! Boredom is a great motivator of negative energy. I told the director, " It's not going to go well leaving him in that cabin with those little boys." I warned him, and I read his response as a willingness to accept responsibility for the situation and recognize and address the problem before Rain could show it to him. As with people of any age, if Rain's acting out, it's a sign that something's wrong, as well as a sign that we adults have some work to do to help him. When Rain is met for who he is, as a full person regardless of his age, and he is shown that he matters, that his individual needs are important, he will jump through every hoop, write every paper, do all the chores required, even go on that most heinous hike. He will perform to his very best when he observes that he is valued. By leaving him in that cabin, forcing him, once again, to be the "mentor" to younger kids (as he has been constantly called upon to do his entire school career), he was told that his needs did not matter. And, if he doesn't matter to camp, why should camp matter to him?

The camp director is going to call me tomorrow and I have some things to say from which I believe he can benefit. Most immediately, I want to remind him, without being didactic, that his job as a director is to direct. Most often, with kids (as we parents know), that means a whole lot of re-directing: noticing where a young person's energy is going and re-directing it to a healthier, more productive place when its careening off into negative territory. We parents start doing this from the get-go! If this director doesn't see himself as as sort of Meta Dad to 150 kids, we're all in trouble. Frankly, if the director is calling us (and my son is not huffing glue, smoking pot in the woods, beating up or bullying other kids, painting swastikas, or self-harming), it makes me wonder if he is the right guy for the job! Who's in charge? You or my almost-14-year-old? Whoever it is that is allowing Rain to opt out of participating in the camp program is doing him a terrible disservice.

When my child acts like a monster, I look at my own choices closely to see what I've done to create that monster. Nine times out of ten, it's pretty clear. When infanticide seems like the only option and my son clearly has too much power, the holding of which frightens him terribly and causes him to behave uncharacteristically poorly, I remember that I contributed to the situation at hand and ask myself what I am going to do to change it. How am I going to help that monster revert back to it's human form? This is the duty with which the director of Rain's camp is currently charged and, as Rain's Mom, it is my job to remind him of it.