Monday, June 28, 2010

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Raising a Child




I was a shy child. My mother said that when I was a little girl, I didn’t look at adults and hid behind her when they approached. That was, until age 5, when my kindergarten report cards would state, “Very bright but a little too social…” What changed? I don’t exactly recall a specific moment, but I do recall t my parents practicing dialogues with me. For example, “When someone asks you, ‘How are you?’ You should then say, ‘Fine thank you, how are you?’” They taught me that exposing myself to different subjects gave me ammunition to speak with people intelligently.

When I became a parent, it was interesting to be the one responsible for teaching little people how to interact and socialize. I wanted to be sure my children would feel confident expressing their voice to others, in a respectful way. I soon realized I had it a little easier than my parents did. My daughter was born talking. And her confidence gene was oversized. The challenge was to keep all of that gregarious energy channeled in the right way. She too received reports from school saying, “Very bright, but needs to work on self-control…” On the one hand, I knew we had to work on that and help her understand when it’s time to socialize and when it’s time to be quiet and listen. On the other hand, there was a little part of me that said, “Yesss!” She has since improved upon this self control.

It took a little longer for my son to start talking. His sister used to talk for him. But when he did talk, I knew he too would be very social. He watched his family and learned. He had a very easy disposition and was also outgoing. I know that’s not taught, but it can be fostered. For example, when we went to a playground, he had no qualms about asking another parent to push him on the swings. And once again, Ari still comes home with “Progressing” in the self-control category on his report cards. This is still a work-in-progress.

One characteristic I think is critical to foster in a child is a sense of humor. Both of my parents know how to do a “schtick” – start with something random and keep going with it. I learned how to find the funny in something or myself to keep life in perspective. There was great comedy in television with such classics as “I Love Lucy” and “The Dick van Dyke Show.” When I was about 10, my father exposed me to the wonders of the late, great Henny Youngman. This led me to delivering stand-up monologues at Camp Matoaka by age 11. I could make other people laugh! To me, there isn’t a more potent means of interaction than humor in the area of social skills.
Fortunately, I married a guy with a good sense of humor. And this trait this caught on for both kids, which has complimented their personalities and helped them stay grounded as good people.

I realize it’s hard to teach someone how to be funny or how to find the humor in something else. I think you can do it by how you react to situations. Sarcasm, when used properly, can be funny. Exaggerating an action can be funny. Some claim that humor cannot or should not be explained. Author E.B. White once said, "Humor can be dissected as a frog can, but the thing dies in the process and the innards are discouraging to any but the pure scientific mind.”

My point: There are so many traits we want to instill in our children – tolerance, determination, forgiveness, resiliency. However, I believe that having a sense of humor is the foundation for all of these characteristics. Tthe benefits of humor and laughter are enormous both emotionally and mentally. It can boost the immune system, reduce stress, relax muscles, lower blood pressure, increase our tolerance for pain, and hasten the healing process. This makes growing up more fun and carries a person far into adulthood.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Make New Friends, But Keep the Old.




“Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other is gold. “

We might learn that rhyme in nursery school, but it transcends our whole lives. This past weekend, Camp Matoaka in Oakland, Maine kicked off its 60th anniversary with a fabulous reunion. Huge thanks to Jason and Leslie Silberman, the camp directors, and Wendy Berliner, the assistant director, for spoiling us and helping us rekindle camp life even for a few days. I also want to send an even bigger thanks to the people who attended, without whom there would not have been a reunion… without whom there would not have been Camp Matoaka.

Granted, I know that everyone who attended camp didn’t love it. And I also realize that every moment of every day wasn’t all sunshiny bright. But we tend to forget the negative, or at least push it to the back burner, when there are so many good things to remember. I attended Matoaka from 1974 – 1983. Many things have stayed the same, and there are also new traditions, as I think should happen.

When we set foot onto the campus, we became Camp Matoaka girls again. I met campers who attended twenty years before I did and twenty years after I did. No matter how old or for how many years we attended, all of those years melded together. We were all the same. We all turned back time, and time stood still.

The campus is in tremendous shape thanks to the directors and staff, who have, over the years, continuously improved upon the facilities. But what puts the Magic in the “Matoaka Magic” is the people. On one level, it felt like we had never left. We played tennis, went sailing and horseback riding, swam, water skied, and challenged ourselves on the ropes course. We slept in the bunks and hung our bathing suits on the line outside. We talked about stuff… girl stuff. It was as if nothing had changed.

On another level, some of us hadn’t seen friends for 20-30 years, and we delved into what was happening in each other’s lives. Although we sat in the same space where we existed as campers, we were talking about spouses and children and adult issues. Although we were not campers anymore, for just a couple of days, we could be campers again.

Just like old times, as soon as our bottoms hit the benches at dinner, the singing started. Back in the day, we used to sing so much and so loudly, we’d get hoarse. I will admit, I got choked up when the songs and cheers began. My mind raced back to the 1970s, and I was a camper again. I saw Uncle Joe and Aunt Midge (Nathanson, the founders and first owners of the camp), I saw the room as it was. I heard the songs as they had been sung. When I pulled myself together, I started to sing and realized the words easily flowed out of my mouth.




Camp was a time to learn about community, about ourselves and about sharing. We used our bodies and our minds. We learned about being girls. Speaking for myself, I learned that I could be away from my parents for an extended period of time and be more than okay. I took risks. I tried new things. I developed a style and a being. I formed everlasting friendships and memories. Without a doubt, I would not be the same person I am today had I not attended Camp Matoaka.

Now, I am in my reality at home with my family, remembering the weekend through pictures and conversations. This feeling will linger for a while and will become part of the box of camp memories. Thanks to the phone, email, snail mail and Facebook, we are able to stay in touch and keep the Matoaka Magic alive.


As Michael Nathanson, Uncle Joe and Aunt Midge’s eldest son and second director of Camp Matoaka said, “Camp Matoaka provided the place, the Nathansons provided the opportunity. But it was always you girls who provided the abundance of SP-IR-IT, and for that we will always love you all!"

"Make new friends, but keep the old..." To me, they’re both gold.