I Am Not Alone: A Reflection from Camp

Did you have a good week at camp??

So many people asked me this question at church this morning. I found it difficult to answer.

I spent the past week serving at Royal Family Kids Camp, a camp for kids in the foster care system. This was my second year with this organization, and the week at camp again stirred up all kinds of emotions. 38 campers were there, being served by 74 adults and young adults. The kids have all been part of foster care for reasons that are far outside of their control; they have been wounded by parents and others. The world has been hard for them, but many are incredibly resilient. That said, every one of the campers we served was hurting in some way, and many acted out.

Was it a good week?

The Arrival of the Underdog: An Advent Devotional

What follows is a devotional I wrote for the Royal Family Kids Camp of NW Iowa dinner and dessert auction. *

The Arrival of the Underdog

Christmas is coming. We are about to enter the season of the year we call Advent. The word “advent” comes from a Latin root, meaning “arrival.” So in this season we are awaiting the arrival—the advent—of Christ.

One of several Nativity scenes we have in our home...

During Advent, we hear the gospel stories about Jesus’ birth, often multiple times throughout the season, year after year. The story of the angel bringing the news to Mary that she would be giving birth to the Son of God. The story of the angels visiting the shepherds to tell them the good news of Jesus’ birth. The story of wise men, coming so far, seeking the newborn king. In Sunday School Christmas pageants, in candle-lit church services, in devotionals and picture books, we hear these stories again and again. And when I’m honest with myself, I know I’ve heard these stories so many times that they have lost a bit of their impact on me.

Being the Body of Christ: A Reflection from Camp

I recently spent a week serving at Royal Family Kids Camp. I was one of 74 adults there working with 38 kids from the foster care system. It's an absolutely amazing ministry, and I am proud to be part of our local camp.

People sometimes wonder what I do at camp. Maybe a strange stretch for a college professor to work with hurting kids?

That's me up in front, leading a silly song as part of our camp training.
Image by Royal Family Kids of NW Iowa [All rights reserved]

Officially, my role is to serve as a member of the music and drama team. We are in charge of putting on a daily chapel time for the campers: singing songs, reading scripture in a way that connects with the kids, teaching a Bible lesson each day, and putting on a drama. We are also in charge of "breakfast club," which is an hour-long time of fun and silliness (and sometimes serious stuff too) to entertain and engage the campers while their guides take a much needed break. (The guides are absolutely amazing, basically being right with their campers 22 hours a day.) So...my role is to help out in entertaining and encouraging the campers, supporting the guides who work with the campers much more closely.

"But what do you actually do, Dave?"

To answer that question, I feel like I should quote Liam Neeson's character in the film Taken:

"I can tell you I don't have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills, skills I have acquired over a very long career." 

"I See My Name": To Know and to Be Known

It's the beginning of the semester, and I'm already struggling. Oh, I'm doing all right; I know my content, and I'm reasonably confident in my pedagogy, and I am as prepared as I can be. The struggle? Getting to know all my new students.

I teach Intro to Ed, which is a required survey course for all Education majors. If you come to Dordt College and major in Education, you'll take this course. I want to be clear: I love to teach this course; it is one of my favorites! But, because Education is one of our largest majors, I have a lot of students--about 80-100 each year, between the three sections that we offer. In the fall semester, I teach two sections of 32-35 students each. And here is the struggle: it's hard for me to get to know that many students when I only see them a couple hours a week.

When I was a middle school teacher, I had 40-60 new students every year, but it wasn't so hard to learn all those names. I think it was because I saw them every. single. day. and I was able to connect with them more quickly. With my college students, I only see them a couple times a week (actually, only once a week in Intro to Ed!) and so it takes me much, much longer to get all those names down cold. Last fall, I had most of them by the middle of the semester, but there were a handful of names that were elusive for me--five or six students whose names just wouldn't jump to mind for me.

And I hate that.

Worry and Trust: A Reflection from Camp

Last week I again had the privilege of serving at Royal Family Kids Camp, an annual, one-week camp for kids in the foster care system. Each summer I've served--this was year 3 for me--I feel like I need to process the week in writing, to make sense of the things that I've experienced, felt, and learned through my service. This summer is no different, though it's taking longer for me this time around.

Image courtesy Royal Family Kids of NW Iowa. All rights reserved.

We returned from Camp on Friday afternoon, and I was wiped out. I suspect most of us were, actually. We had 53 campers, and almost 100 staff members working with them both in 1-on-1 roles as Guides ("counselor" often has a different connotation for kids in foster care) or, as I was serving, in a supporting role. It's a demanding week, no matter the capacity in which you serve. Our goal is to lavish love on the kids who are there, being fully-present, nurturing influences in their lives for a week. But that kind of "always on" takes a toll, and by Friday I was wiped out.

Making Moments Matter

I spent last week serving at Royal Family Kids Camp; a camp for kids who are in the foster care system. I've worked at many different camps over the past 20 years, and this one was unique for a variety of reasons. Our main goal: show these kids that they are loved, and not because of anything they have done...in a 1 John 4:19 kind of way. ("We love because he first loved us.")

I'm hesitant to call it a "life-changing experience," but only because that seems like hyperbole. I know that my thinking, my heart, and my faith were pulled, pushed, and shaped through my experiences last week, and I'm still thinking about it all. (Honestly, I've started writing a post about it a couple of times, and I am just not able to pull it all together just yet.)

But one thing I'll share...

Overcoming Writer's Block

I have written so very little this summer, and that pains me in some ways.

Writing is so often cathartic, and a key part of my reflective practice as an educator.

I enjoy writing, most of the time.

But this summer has been...well, my life is rich and full.

And my rich, full life means I have not been able to prioritize some things that I really enjoy, including writing.

I have had some great adventures this summer, things that I've been mulling over how they might become blog posts: the story of getting stung by a stingray, the things I learned as a 40-something on a high ropes course, my typical post-Royal Family Kids Camp reflections, how my dog and I are both turning into curmudgeonly old grumps on our morning walks, how my faith-life continues to develop, my son and I enjoying a sushi lunch, new approaches I've been trying for live meetings in online courses, a hilarious Bob Ross themed gift from a dear colleague...I have a lot I'm thinking about writing.

But, somehow, I haven't been able to prioritize the writing.

Sure, it has something to do with the preparations for the new academic year, which starts next Tuesday for me.

And it definitely has something to do with a very busy (joyful!) summer of teaching.

And I'm sure part of it is is that I'm having a hard time with a writing project I have to do, and despite my generally-positive disposition, I haven't been able to make the turn yet into making this a "get too" instead of "have to" proposition.

But I'm wondering right now if the underlying thing is actually that I got out of the habit this summer, and I'm just struggling to get the writing wheels turning again?

All of this to say, I'm hopeful that this post will help me overcome my writer's block, and get back at it!

Image via pixabay

The Power of Looking Silly (and Not Caring that You Do)

Today is my 21st first day of school as a teacher.

This is the first time--to my memory--that I didn't have the back-to-school nightmares. I mentioned this to my wife this morning, and she (jokingly) said that means that things will go awful today. (She was joking...but we'll see, I guess. Not that I'm superstitious or anything...)

The truth is, I do worry about my teaching practice. I want to be the best that I can be! I want my students to learn, and to even enjoy my classes. And, seriously, I want to enjoy my classes too. And I usually do, even though I recognize my tendencies toward worrying.

And it's in those worrying times that I sometimes need some encouragement, some recognition that I'm doing all right.

Camp Was (Great/Awful)...Thanks for Asking

Earlier this month I again had the privilege to serve at Royal Family Kids Camp for a fourth year. RFKC is a camp specifically for kids in the foster care system, and it always brings up a variety of emotions for me. I've written reflection each year upon returning home from my week at camp to work out my thoughts (you can read them here, if you like) but this year I've had a hard time writing. I actually started two other posts and abandoned them, because they seemed trite and hollow.

I'm not sure why I'm having a harder time working out my thoughts this year. I think it might be partly that I'm now on the leadership team for our camp, and so it feels a little closer to home to think out loud about how the week was--because I had a hand in helping to plan for it, in training the staff, in some of the decision-making during the week, etc. The week went quite well, I think, but that's coming from my biased perspective as one of the people who helped put things together for camp this year.

My role during the week was the same as it has been the past few years. Officially, my role is being part of the chapel team. Unofficially, I'm pretty much the camp clown...

Post Talent Show...which it's been my pleasure to emcee for the past 4 years...

Thoughts from Camp: A Religious Experience

I spent last week serving at Royal Family Kids Camp, a camp expressly for kids in the foster care system. My last post shared a few of my initial reactions after my week, but I've continued to reflect on the experiences of the week, and now a whole week has passed since returning home from my six days at camp. I think I'm ready to share this now...

I am still processing the experience. On Monday of last week when I returned to the office, several people asked me, "Did you have a good week at camp?" That was a challenging question to answer, honestly. There were times of fun and great joy, for sure. There were also moments where I felt real sorrow, and even anger. Honestly, it's hard to encapsulate what I feel about it, because it's all so mixed up. It was an emotional blender of a week.

On Being Seriously Silly

 I saw this one on Twitter today from the eminent Sir John Cleese:

Always be the silliest in any group. 😃 #tbt pic.twitter.com/oMJu876Wsz

— John Cleese (@JohnCleese) April 22, 2021

(Just in case you aren't familiar...John Cleese is one of the members of the ground-breaking British comedy troupe, Monty Python. This photo is of the group as they looked in the early days--maybe late 1960s or early 70s?--and Cleese is the one grinning like a fool. They may have had their heyday in the 70s and 80s, but this group has had a huge impact on media and culture far beyond the British Isles.)

I love it! I think this is a rule that I live by, and I didn't even realize it until I saw it written this way.

I revel in silliness. 

I play the ukulele.

I yo-yo as I walk across campus.

I get my Intro to Ed students to try juggling in class.

I exhibit a manic energy in teaching my Elementary Science Methods course.

At one of the summer camps I serve (shout-out to Royal Family Kids!) I dress up in a banana costume and sing ridiculous songs...and somehow get the whole group of campers and staff to play along and sing and dance with me.

Not atypical for me to look like this (at camp, at least...)

Something I've tried to embody--and to pass along to my students, future teachers that they are--is that I should take my WORK very seriously...but I try to not take MYSELF too seriously. 

Not that I want to be the butt of every joke, or anything like that. And I'm not just trying to be self-deprecating all the time. After all, I do want my students to have confidence in me as their teacher, and I want my colleagues to have confidence in me as someone who is reliable, and trustworthy, and an active contributor to important work.

But...I also want to be able to bring levity, positivity, and joy to my work! And I think I (generally) embody this quite well.

My big wondering right now: do people take me seriously even when I am silly?

I guess I'm thinking about this from a John Cleese sort of frame. He is one of the best in the world at what he does--he takes his comedy seriously, and has honed his craft over decades of work. Maybe my teaching practice isn't all that different?

Can I be seriously silly?