By Debra Nussbaum Cohen August 3, 2009

Last week, we put our 10-year-old daughter, our middle child, on the bus for her first overnight camp experience. Though she didn’t know any other girls at camp, as she boarded the bus she gave me a smile electric with excitement.

She is doubtlessly doing fine. I, however, am having some separation anxiety. I recall from when my 15-year-old son went to overnight camp the first time how painful it was — for me. He had a good time. By his second summer overnight camp experience, though, I was just happy to have the break.

Expert advice I’ve read says not to tell the camper how much you are missing her — rather focus on the fun she’s (hopefully) having.

Forwarding the News

Thoughtful, balanced reporting from the Forward and around the web, bringing you updated news and analysis each day.

Terms(Required)

I agree to the Forward's Terms of Service and Privacy Policy

Email(Required)

Personally, I hated camp. I truly never had a good time. I lacked confidence, coordination and struggled to manage getting around the campgrounds, especially at night. We didn’t know it at the time, but I was legally blind — good reason not to be able to cope on those night hikes, but at the time I just chalked it up as one more camp thing I was lousy at.

Bookish, blindish, content to stay on my bunk all day reading and hoping someone would be nice to me. Not much has changed in the intervening decades, actually. Lest I over-identify with my daughter, however, I must remind myself that she is a very different child than I was. Though a bit shy at the outset, she is a tremendously social creature with an innate gift for relationships and very much “in her body,” good at sports and all manner of group activities.

In all likelihood, my delicious daughter will do great at camp.

Hopefully she won’t meet the girl-equivalent of author A.J. Jacobs, who in this video belatedly apologizes to Scott Blonkin for tormenting him when they were at sleep-away camp.

Next year, we hope to send our youngest to overnight camp, too. When I wondered aloud, to my husband, what we’ll do with ourselves if they’re all gone for part of the summer, he quickly said “Paris!” Sounds good to me.

In the meantime, here’s some chuckle-worthy blog reading about Jewish summer camps from hell.

Time to run. I’ve got to assemble and mail a care package that will, within the contents of one brown box, communicate to my new camper that she is loved and missed (but not too much, don’t want to worry her, after all), and that her mommy knows the exact perfect thing to send her to make her happy and ensure continued popularity with her bunkmates.

The hard salamis my Oma sent me, back in the day, didn’t exactly endear me to my cabin-mates, though I did feel loved as I looked at it dangling from the bottom of the bunk above me.

Hopefully I’ll come up with something a little less pungent.

The Forward is free to read, but it isn’t free to produce

I hope you appreciated this article. Before you go, I’d like to ask you to please support the Forward.

Now more than ever, American Jews need independent news they can trust, with reporting driven by truth, not ideology. We serve you, not any ideological agenda.

At a time when other newsrooms are closing or cutting back, the Forward has removed its paywall and invested additional resources to report on the ground from Israel and around the U.S. on the impact of the war, rising antisemitism and polarized discourse.

Readers like you make it all possible. We’re near the end of our Passover Fundraising Drive, and we have a very ambitious goal of $127,000 by April 21.

This is a great time to support independent Jewish journalism you rely on. Make a Passover gift today!

—  Rachel Fishman Feddersen, Publisher and CEO

Make a Passover Gift Today!

$90 $180

$360

Other amount