My older son was at Arts Camp last week. It’s a day camp sponsored by our local arts community and this was the first year he was old enough to attend. When we asked him about it in the spring, when the flyer came out, he was pretty ambivalent.
“Yeah. Sure. That sounds good,” was the response.
Before I sent in his registration, he half-hardheartedly picked what he wanted to do: theater arts, visual arts (painting and drawing section) and hip hop.
Fast forward two months.
By the third day of camp, he was asking when we’d be signing him up for next summer’s session of Arts Camp.
“When does the information come out, Mom? The schedule for next year’s camp?” he asked. His foot may have even been tapping.
“Oh, sometime around when school gets out,” I answered. Now it was my turn to be ambivalent. (Not really, but the tables were definitely turned.)
“I want to sign up within, like, the first few minutes that you can sign up.”
These discussions continued through the end of the week. When would the info arrive? What would he choose? Would he get his first choices, did I think? I assured him that we’d sign him up. Yes, he could choose steel drums as an elective if he wanted. Yes, theater arts did seem like a good “core” class for him.
Watching him on stage last Friday afternoon, I swelled with pride behind the video camera. He made a wonderful dwarf (Clumsy) in the play Hansel & Gretel. He was in his element.
And, yes, I’ll do whatever I can to make sure he’s back on stage next year.