A case for outdoor education

A former camp leader reflects on lessons learned in the great outdoors

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This summer, I encourage you to send your kid outside.

Now, why should you listen to what a 20-something without kids thinks you should do? Because for the last seven years, I was one of the lucky ones who got to work as a trip leader, camp counselor and outdoor educator.

I worked with middle schoolers, high schoolers and college students — together, we hiked in the Adirondacks, kayaked in Vermont and rock climbed in New Mexico.

Life outdoors is different. It’s hard. Outdoor education students have to build a shelter, cook meals and stay warm using only what they and their group are carrying with them. The bones of life are simplified: here is a tent, a sleeping bag, a stove. Here is a pot, one spoon, a pair of boots. Here is your life for the next few weeks.

Freed of the literal confines of buildings and the more metaphorical confines of the expectations of friends, school, parents and society, outdoor education invites children to try a new way of being — a different version of themselves. How do they feel on top of a freshly summited mountain? What do they choose to talk about after they’ve been with the same people for 10 days? What brings them joy after a long hike? What do they feel allowed to do — or be — out here in the woods?

Life outdoors is so different than life lived indoors (or with the option of the indoors) that it can quickly invite change and reflection. The sudden simplicity and openness allows students to access a more authentic version of themselves — a version that is less clouded by myriad things to do and people to please.

When the day’s priorities are simplified from the normal routines of life (school, homework, chores, social media, video games, etc.) to setting up and breaking down camp and hiking, students are given more time and space to examine what matters — what is worth keeping, pursuing and cultivating.

In a nutshell: Sending your kids outdoors allows them to discover a life with a little more space and opportunity.

In the outdoors, this self-definition and exploration come hand-in-hand with group formation and dynamics. Outdoors, a child’s whole day (and night) will be spent with the same group of students. This closeness creates strong bonds that are hard for children to find in other camp settings today. Our lives are so fractured that finding a consistent community — outside of the family unit — within which to grow is incredibly special.

Part of this growth comes from children learning when to lead and when to follow. Outdoor education trips are filled with opportunities where children are invited to lead: Hiking at the front of a group, deciding how much rice to cook, making the final call on where to pitch a tent. But each of these is also an opportunity to follow. Unlike more traditional camp counselors who are the set leaders of activities, outdoor trip leaders are facilitators.

When I was training to be a leader in college, our director told us to act as street sweepers. “Sweep the streets clear of the impediments of safety and belonging. But don’t tell your students which street to go down.” Trip leaders will make sure your children feel secure and cared for, but they won’t tell them exactly what to do. This unique facilitation also allows a supportive and close group dynamic to form as students are challenged throughout the trip.

Growth and adversity are built into outdoor education trips. The instinctual fear of living outside — away from the necessities and distractions of our everyday world — is the first and most important challenge to push through. One must let go of the common belief that living outdoors for a few weeks is going to be perilous or boring. The world that exists beyond the sound of the highway and the sight of the familiar isn’t a dangerous one; it’s simply an unknown one.

The unfamiliar is one of the through lines of life, and we must show our children when they’re young that the unfamiliar is not going to harm them. Yes, you can sleep in a tent. Yes, you will summit the mountain. Go ahead; take your first step.