Wednesday, July 11th, 2007...10:05 am
How dare these children grow up?
When I was a kid, my dad told me the only thing he wanted from me was to “not grow up”.
I didn’t listen. Neither, it seems, have “my campers”.
I spent my summers in college working long days at Camp Sharwood in Woodland Hills, California, singing songs, playing patty-cake, and doing arts and crafts with hundreds of kids. These kids, though, have since become adults. Real, live, full-fledged adults. Who are on .
My campers, who used to call me “Radar” (part of the fun was having the campers call us by our nicknames; I called myself Radar because I loved the show M*A*S*H), are on the popular social networking site and are forgetting that, to me, they’re supposed to stay sweet and innocent forever.
These “adults” are the same kids whose hands I once held when they were too scared to ride a rollercoaster; the same kids who I taught how to hit a softball; the same kids who I read bedtime stories to when I babysat them; and the same kids whose scraped knees I would bandage when they fell down.
Instead, I see pictures of them on Facebook going on beach trips, graduating from college, going skydiving, getting drunk, and hanging out with friends – all things my friends do.
But they’re just children, I thought as I accepted each of them as Facebook friends this week, how can they be kissing boys?
Here is one of my favorite campers, who thanked me for giving her the courage to ride the Matterhorn at Disneyland, wearing a bikini saying “We’re the shit lol” in one of her photos.
They’re only kids.
Here’s another camper who’s now taller than me who I used to entertain with impressions of Mike Myers’ SNL character of “Simon”.
They play with toys.
Here’s another who is now a 6’2” man-giant and who describes his occupation as a “cop killa”. I used to take him to the “emergency room” whenever he overreacted about being hurt.
They wet their pants.
Seeing these kids – er, adults – again brought back memories: The boy who threw up on me while we watched the Batman show at Knott’s Berry Farm. The girl who showed me during a night of babysitting a video of her being born. The ADHD kid who ran away and who I had to haul back to camp over my shoulder. The time I temporarily “lost” a kid at Raging Waters. The “Final Shows” we put on to entertain the kids’ parents.
But my favorite memory is the story of a 6-year-old boy (I wish I remembered his name) who was so shy when he started at Camp Sharwood that he wouldn’t play with other kids, kept to himself, and stared at me without saying a word whenever I talked to him.
I encouraged him slowly without pushing him and after a week or so, he became much more social. After a few weeks I noticed he started combing his hair slick back like mine. At the end of the year, this boy’s mom came up to me and asked, “Are you Radar?”
When I told her I was, she hugged me and said, “You have no idea what an impact you have had on my son.” She went on to tell me how shy he once was but how happy he had become since meeting his “favorite camp counselor”. She added that every morning, she combed his hair but he wasn’t happy until it looked “just like Radar’s”.
To me, that kid will be six years old forever.
Below is a group picture of Camp Sharwood counselors. Can you find me? Click to enlarge.
18 Comments
July 11th, 2007 at 10:22 am
Nicely written. How bad was Batman that a kid vomited on you?
You’re in the front to the left. In the sunglasses and white skirt.
It was too hot that day, apparently, and he couldn’t handle it. I was pissed because I missed half the show. And I had vomit on my shoes.
July 11th, 2007 at 10:42 am
Truly touching, AJT. I’m glad you didn’t mention the time I threw up on you when I thought I was Batman, though.
Look at you with the two chicas you little pimp.
Good eye.
You think you’re Batman with or without alcohol.
July 11th, 2007 at 10:50 am
I feel the same way when I see my little brother’s friends. They’re all about 4 years younger than me and I remember most of them being about 4′7 15lbs with geek glasses back in the day. Now some of them are kinda hot and buff.
Yeah, but 4 years isn’t bad, I’m sure you have friends with greater age disparities. We’re talking between 10 and 13 years in my case. It’s too much.
July 11th, 2007 at 11:20 am
I’m such a wuss this made me teary. But it’s so dang sweet….
I was a teacher several years back. Thinking about the little boy I taught to read ‘Green Eggs and Ham’ now being in college gives me the shivers.
Imagine if you saw him now, especially on MySpace or Facebook, having the gall to be all adult and stuff.
July 11th, 2007 at 11:28 am
All my old babysittees are my Facebook friends now. You haven’t lived until a little girl you fed bottles to and pushed in a swing when she was 8 months old is smiling at you from her Facebook profile pic, holding up a cake that says “Steve S— has a once-inch dick.” Caption: “No Hard Feelings!”
That’s pretty much the feeling I have had this week. One camper, in her reply to me, wrote “Holy shit” I reprimanded her on the use of curse words and she said “sorry”, like she was still 8 years old.
July 11th, 2007 at 11:36 am
I once worked in an elementary school. A few years back, I had a second grader, 7 years old. Sweet kid. I ran into him this spring, now a 12 year old 8th grader, going into high school. He winked at me all cool and casually - “Hey Mrs. P.” he said as he winked and walked by.
He was about 6 feet tall and towered over me. Kind of creepy.
I’m not checking to see if he’s on Facebook.
E-mail me his name, I’ll check for you.
July 11th, 2007 at 12:08 pm
Some of my babysittees are my myspace friends, and reading their pages freaks me out beyond belief.
One of the girls cried relentlessly one night while her parents were out until I agreed to pull her loose front tooth. She was probably six at the time. That’s always how I think of her. But her myspace page tells me things I don’t want to know about her high school life… that she’s in all in *luv* with her boyfriend of almost a year, for instance. (A year!?!? That’s, like, triple the length of my longest “relationship.”)
So, not only are they growing up, but they’re doing a better job of it than I did. Jeez.
All my campers on Facebook are better-looking, have more friends, and get to have more fun than me. Maybe this is what it feels like to be an uncle to someone.
July 11th, 2007 at 12:11 pm
This was an awesome post, man. I was a day camp counselor for two summers myself, and related to … all of this, from the idol worship and Mom coming up to you afterwards to being tripped the eff out when one of my campers found me on MySpace (and declared her 18-ness! Ack.)
Campers aren’t supposed to turn 18. If I had known that, I might have reconsidered being their counselor!
July 11th, 2007 at 12:13 pm
you were very easy to find. the one who looks like a “grown- up” but is the same size as all the children. ; ]
it always freaks me out to see my cousins growing up. 2 of them graduated this year and while one of them i expected to graduate young (she’s barely 16) the other i fully expected to be a bratty 4 year old all our lives. i have to admit i was teary at her graduation. (i felt like a douche, too so i ended up going outside to smoke until i could “get ahold of myself”.)
when people whose diapers you used to change, whose faces you used to clean, whose homework you would help with are suddenly the age you pretty sure you still are it’s kinda freaky. i shouldn’t feel old but sometimes i really do. especially when i see my cousins and other children i used to babysit getting to be and passing the ages i was when i watched them.
Imagine what we’ve done to all the older people who knew US when we were kids.
I’ll have you know I was taller than 69% of all the campers.
July 11th, 2007 at 1:44 pm
Dude, I was definitely a counselor about 4, 5 years back, and it’s killing me that my tiny little kids are like sophomores in college now and adding me on facebook.
They were supposed to stay the same age. They were forever frozen at 13. I can’t even imagine my 9 year olds growing up. You even made me tear up, you fucker.
PS - I thought I saw you on the metro today and it freaked me out. Please never use public transport. Thanks.
It freaked YOU out? Don’t fret, celebrity blog sightings are pretty common. Next time, say hi. I might act indignant and put-upon, though, since I’m a jerkwad without my morning coffee.
July 11th, 2007 at 2:08 pm
My girls were only a few years younger than me (they knew better than to give me the youngest campers) and they were staff when I was still at camp. and I’ve definitely gone drinking with a few of them, which is most definitely weird. But they’ll all still be my girls. even though I’m sure most of them will get married before me.
Wow, in my blindness I didn’t realize the very real possibility that if I ell them I’m visiting LA they might want to grab a drink with me.
I guess that’s ok, so long as the drinks are Shirley Temples.
July 11th, 2007 at 8:48 pm
I was never a camp counselor, but I did baby-sit and ride the bus to school with kids of all ages. It never stops being a shock to me when I go home for vacation and run into these kids in the clubs and bars. What? You’re getting loaded? Smoking pot? You’re a kid!
My favorite story, though, is the one that happened to one of my best friends, who once was asked to dance at a club by his younger brother’s friend. She said yes because she wanted to be nice. Next thing you know, the kid was puttin’ the moves on her and telling her, “Nena, tú eres mía este fin de semana”. Ewwwww!!!
July 11th, 2007 at 9:53 pm
I had a similar shock when one of the girls I babysat when I was in high school — she, her brother and I would turn off all the lights and I would chase them with a flashlight under my face so I’d look scary — had her first child when I was a junior in college. Yes, she was a teen mom, but it still made me feel very, very old.
My college roommate’s daughter graduated from high school this year. I still remember tickling her when she was a baby. She is not supposed to grow up so fast.
July 13th, 2007 at 3:07 am
My former stepdaughter, now 17 going on 42, added me as a friend to her Myspace page at my request. After I saw what she had on her page I wished I hadn’t brought it up.
I remember always being so annoyed when adults would say to me, “Wow, look at how much you’ve grown!” or “My goodness, you’re HOW old now?” and I swore I would never do it to a kid. But now I completely understand why people do this. You can’t really comprehend the concept of time until you’ve watched a baby become an adult.
July 13th, 2007 at 3:54 pm
Isn’t Woodland Hills just a nice name for Canoga Park?
Nope. They are two distinctive neighborhood separated by Victory Blvd.
You probably live in West Hills, huh?
July 13th, 2007 at 4:09 pm
I am going through the same thing right now. The kids I had as campers (they called me Mushu as my nickname…moving on) are now on Facebook and it’s so freaking weird.
July 16th, 2007 at 12:04 pm
nah. my cousins lived in Canoga Park and then one day, they lived in Woodland Hills. but I think things like that are always happening in the San Fernando Valley.
November 9th, 2007 at 11:03 am
[…] Update after another and, frankly, I’ve been getting sick of it. Hell, I even discovered recently that my former campers have disturbingly grown up when I found their Facebook […]
Leave a Reply