This past week marked the first of two sessions for the Community School of the Arts summer camp. We have written about the camp numerous times here, here, and here. But this summer was the first time my little boy was old enough to attend. Having worked on campus for three years, I knew a little about what to expect. However, you don’t really know how fun and exciting it is until you see your young son run to you at the end of each day, beaming with pride and excited to tell you about the airplane he sculpted or the bowl he painted.
When the week started, my son was nervous. Using the word “camp” was probably not the best idea, as he was concerned he would be sleeping there and wouldn’t see me again. After I explained more about what this week would be all about, he was a little less timid but still stood close to me as we made our way through the crowd of talkative children and anxious parents that first day.
When I picked him up at the end of the first day, I knew everything had gone well. He quickly told me about the bird he sculpted and how it had feathers, glue, and straws. He was excited to return the next day.
And fortunately for me, each drop-off after that first day was better and better. On the third day, he literally ran into the building and straight to his group. He learned the names of his new friends and they learned his. Little friendships were quickly formed. I think my social butterfly invited every child over to his house this summer.
One day I peeked into his IQ Music class and was so surprised at what I saw. Even though I had seen kids learning and playing in previous sessions, there’s nothing quite like seeing your own child learn and practice a new skill. My soon-to-be kindergartner was learning to read music! I didn’t learn that until I was 13! And yet, here was a group of young children saying “ta – ta – teetee – ta” as they read from a card of music notes. I was blown away that in three days, they had learned what an 8th note and 16th note were.
When the week came to a close, I think we were both a little sad. I know he learned a lot and developed more confidence, and I loved seeing him make some new friends.
As a mom, I’m a little sad because we heard this is most likely the camp’s last summer. If the camp returns in the future, however, I know one little boy who will gladly sign up for a second sculpture class in hopes of creating another feather-and-glue covered bird. He just might be this generation’s Michelangelo.