It’s easy to think of camp as a big and loud place.
It’s easy because it’s true. Camp is a big and loud place! Days are packed with sounds and energy spilling over. Which is definitely the point.
So when I ask kids about their most meaningful and memorable camp experiences, part of me is always waiting for those big, loud stories.
That was the case last week in Dallas. I was there for ForumWithin work and got to meet up with some K&E families to learn more about what makes camp tick. (I’m on a mission people!)
We hung out, talked camp, had an awesome time. During those couple of hours, I asked all the camp kids about moments that stuck out for them this summer.
I expected stories about Color War breakout, Hollowpalooza sets, favorite activities, maybe some cabin shenanigans that made everyone laugh until their stomachs hurt.
Instead, all three kids, talking separately, not comparing notes, gave me nearly identical answers.
Each one described a nighttime moment under the stars.
These weren’t structured activities or planned programs. They were quiet moments of simply being there, together.
Why These Don’t Happen at Home
These moments stuck with me because they don’t happen at my house either.
At home, evening time means homework completion, getting ready for the next day, coordinating schedules. Even when we want to slow down, there’s always something that needs handling.
And honestly, even if we had completely free evening time, would I think to take my kids outside to just lie there and look at the stars?
It would probably feel oddly indulgent. Like we should be doing something more useful.
Most parents I work with and know operate in constant transition mode. We move from task to task, managing logistics, solving problems. It’s like a parent code of sorts.
But camp protects this space deliberately. There’s no homework to finish. No early morning commute to prep for. The evening hours aren’t about getting ready for tomorrow.
In my work with executives, I see how much high performers need exactly this kind of time. Space to think without pressure to produce. Moments to just be present with people they trust.
Camp gives kids what the most effective leaders are constantly seeking: time to simply exist without having to optimize anything.
What Stays With Them
These aren’t the stories we parents always expect to hear when kids come home from camp.
We ask about activities they tried, friends they made, skills they learned. All of that matters. (And yes, I still ask my kids about these same things.)
But the moments that stick are often the simplest ones. And there’s something powerful about that.
You can’t get better at looking at the night sky. These kids weren’t performing or competing. There was no scale to climb or skill to master.
The moment didn’t need to be improved. It was already complete.
What these kids described was open, free time mixed with long silences in between conversations. Unhurried talking with comfortable quiet. Time that stretched without anyone checking a clock.
Camp exists partly to provide in a summer what regular life can’t always offer.
A lot of it is all the way up front in brochures and on the website.
But it’s also got quiet and unhurried time with other people. Non-performative minutes and hours with people who just get it.
Those are the experiences that change how kids see themselves and the world around them.
We’re planning for next summer, and I want to make sure every camper has their own version of these star-gazing moments. Not because they’re on the schedule, but because we can provide and protect the space where they just kind of, well… happen.
The loud, energetic camp moments matter. They absolutely do, and there are already tons of those planned.
But the quiet ones stick around.
Apparently, they’re the ones kids mention first.
Best,
Sylvia
PS: I want to meet all of you!
- Email and let’s set up a time to talk
- Grab a spot on my calendar?
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Jack and I are hosting some parent zooms - FIRST ONE TOMORROW