December 31, 2017By Kerin

arts camp creative performance 1

We throw around the word value a lot. What’s so fascinating about that is the word has come to have two, connected, but not necessarily equivalent meanings. When we talk about seeking something that is a good value, we are usually talking about something that is a good deal, i.e. you’re getting the most bang for your buck. This concept of value, then, is results-oriented, and seemingly quantifiable. The other idea of value stands in direct contrast to the first idea. It revolves around those intangible things that make up a life’s worth. These valuable things include our experiences with family, friends, and the world around us. They are the things that are impossible to directly quantify, even if they are obviously worthwhile.

In education, the idea of value receives lots of attention. This makes some amount of sense. After all, our children’s education extends throughout their entire youth and into adulthood. We have been told over and over again that what and how our children learn in school is what will guarantee their future successes, both in terms of their careers and their lives, in general. It’s no wonder then that we look to easily quantifiable aspects of education—test scores, GPAs, academic signposts—as being markers of success. It is much easier to look at a child’s math grade and use it to determine whether or not they are thriving than it is to look at a ceramics project and see the same.

In education, the idea of value receives lots of attention.

This is a huge mistake, though, one which ignore the inherent value in arts education. I’ve written before about the importance of different aspects of art education, from dance to theater. But I’ve yet to frame it in terms of specific worth. There’s a few reasons for this, one being that I think traditional ideas of educational worthiness are… ridiculous. (That’s putting it mildly.) Every adult should be well aware by now that there is no single path to success. To say nothing of the fact that there is no single definition of “success” anyway!

Beyond that, though, the value in arts education is difficult to quantify. There’s the ways in which arts education has been shown to lead to creative play. This, in turn, leads to children with advanced social skills, and capable of creative thought and deep empathy. There’s no easy way to put a number on these things, and yet their value is enormous.

arts camp creative performance 2

The arts also give children the chance to make mistakes in a way that academics don’t. For example, if a child does a chemistry equation incorrectly, we tell them they are wrong. If an essay contains a sentence that is grammatically incorrect, we draw a red line through the offending words. But what if a child’s painting doesn’t come out exactly the way they want it to? Or if they flub a line during a class play? They have the chance to, in the first case, try again and make it differently, without the accompanying stigma of hearing their first effort was a failure. And, in the second case, they can think on their feet and come up with a solution in the moment.

The thing about art is that nobody is great at it right away. But becoming better and realizing there is no right or wrong way of doing things is part of the process.

The important thing is to understand that value is a tricky concept.

In an educational arena in which everyone is assigned a score for doing just about everything, art can be a refuge for over-stimulated kids. It is a national tragedy that art is not a priority in our public school curriculums, but there are ways for parents to reconcile that reality with what they want for their kids. One way, certainly, is by sending kids to an art-based, process-oriented camp like Ballibay. Another way is by supplementing academic life with extracurricular art activities, like pottery classes or music lessons. This is also a great way to make sure your kids don’t have their phones in their hands for a few hours every week.

The important thing is to understand that value is a tricky concept. All too often we are seeking to find something that we can see is a great value because of how the numbers add up. And the numbers don’t even seem to exist when it comes to arts education. But maybe that’s just fine. Maybe we don’t need to find the “value” in the arts, because maybe we just need to learn that the arts are an invaluable part of education. And our children will benefit from learning this lesson too.


December 26, 2017By Kerin

arts camp dance performance

We all remember those Apple ads, right? The ones featuring images of instantly recognizable leaders from all places of the world, involved in all manners of professional fields. There were Mahatma Gandhi, Eleanor Roosevelt, Amelia Earheart, Miles Davis, Pablo Picasso, and, of course, Steve Jobs, all featured alongside the words: Think Different.

This ad campaign was a wildly successful one, and was defining for Apple, specifically in its ability to put forth a strong brand identity for the company, one which still exists, decades after the campaign first ran. Apple created this identity in order to align itself with genius, creativity, and originality. The people who used Apple were icons, yes, but they were also iconoclasts. They broke the mold and often refashioned it in their own image. They embodied the idea of thinking differently as the only true path to brilliance.

The irony of these ads, of course, is that their widespread success has meant that Apple’s popularity surged. More and more people bought their products, wanting to identify with a brand that explicitly advocated thinking differently. Meanwhile, what Apple was implicitly saying was: “Think like everybody else and buy our products and never stop buying them and have some freaking loyalty to a corporation why don’t you.”

We like to think we value the iconoclast, the rogue, the maverick. When it comes right down to it, though, we pretty much all fall prey to the comforts of group think.

But so, the point here isn’t really about Apple, even if it also kind of is. Rather the point here is that as a culture, we merely pay lip service to the idea of thinking differently. We like to think we value the iconoclast, the rogue, the maverick. When it comes right down to it, though, we pretty much all fall prey to the comforts of group think. Never is this more true when it comes to raising children.

Which, look: I get it—especially when it comes to kids. It’s easier to want them to be typical in their development. We want our kids’ lives to have the “right” kind of challenges. We don’t want the kinds that will lead to bullying, or to frustrated teachers. This is an understandable impulse, as a parent, but it is also an untenable one. This is especially true when you are raising a child who undeniably has a different way of thinking. These kids cannot necessarily be expected to comfortably exist in the mainstream, let alone to thrive.

arts camp music performance

First, what does it mean to think different? One simple way of realizing that your child thinks differently is if they learn differently. This might be apparent from an early age, when a teacher calls out a child for being disruptive during circle time. “Disruptive” can mean that they don’t want to sit in one place for 20 minutes at a time. “Disruptive” could also mean that they constantly ask “why” when their teacher offers seemingly arbitrary reasons for why things need to be a certain way. Rebelliousness is a key signifier of a different thinker, but its presence in young children often leads to frustration on the part of teachers—and parents.

And, in fact, here’s where parents need to step in and help their differently thinking child. The best and probably easiest way of doing this is by allowing kids to express feelings of dissent. If your child says that something is unfair or wrong, listen to them. Don’t do the knee-jerk thing so many parents do and side with the person in authority. (Even when that person in authority is… you.) Instead, help your child to figure out a way to solve their problems for themselves. Remind them that veering off from the expected path doesn’t mean they’re taking a wrong turn, it just means they’re finding a new route.

It’s really easy for adults to obsess over culturally approved success markers.

This might also be an important thing to remind yourself, as the parent. It’s really easy for adults to obsess over culturally approved success markers. Think: the right neighborhood to live in, the right job, the right salary, the right schools for your kids. But we must stop that. In part, because it’s a bad example to set for our kids. But also because it’s not an ideal way to live our own lives.

Ways in which we can help our kids—both those who naturally are different thinkers, and those who should be encouraged to stray from the norm—include giving them more responsibility. By doing things like allowing kids agency in planning their schedules, we are offering them the chance to turn frustrations into creative solutions. We should also think carefully about the environments in which our kids exist. Some different thinkers can thrive even in traditional settings. Once encouraged to utilize their inquisitive nature in beneficial ways, they can adapt to their surroundings. Not every differently thinking kid is like that, though. As parents, we need to make sure that our kids are in situations where different thinking is accepted and encouraged.

What we must remember is that being a different thinker doesn’t mean being an outcast. Even when encouraging our kids to find their own paths to success (whatever shape “success” takes), we must remind them that respecting others can lead to worthwhile collaborations and experiences. Rules can be bent and even dismantled without leading to chaos. And, in fact, different thinkers often do well with having some rules in place, even if they are simultaneously encouraged to use those rules as a guideline instead of an ironclad system.

The biggest thing to remember when raising a kid to think differently is to be open to doing the same yourself. There is no right or wrong way to live a life. And whether or not your child is the next Steve Jobs is beside the point. Rather, the point is to allow your kids the freedom of figuring out who they want to be, not who others are telling them they ought to be. And that’s where true originality can be found—and it has nothing to do with what kind of laptop you use.

art camp pottery


December 1, 2017By Kerin

art camp photography

One of the things I love most about my kids going to Ballibay each year is the knowledge of how they will be spending their time. Once dropped off, they will spend several, uninterrupted weeks without the distractions of their phones, social media, television, or other screen-centered activities. This is a huge relief for me, and, frankly, I know it is for them too. Gone is the temptation of whiling away hours on their devices, ignoring all the other possible things they could be doing. In its stead are a myriad of enriching offerings, from which the kids can pick and choose, leading themselves in the directions in which they want to go. Wonderful!

And then… they come back home. Suddenly their lives are filled again with all the distractions absent from camp. It’s only natural that they drift toward newly familiar habits, no matter how bad they might be. To compound that dilemma, they also start school again, and suddenly need to figure out how to manage their time in a very different way than they did during the summer. Their responsibilities increase and the amount of hours in the day during which they have anything resembling free time decreases. It’s far from ideal, but it is a situation many parents are working with—not only in terms of their kids, but also with regards to themselves.

What should parents do when they realize their kids are handling their time poorly?

But let’s focus on the kids for right now. What should parents do when they realize their kids are handling their time poorly? There’s a lot of different ways this can manifest. It can mean that kids are falling behind in their schoolwork or not practicing their instruments enough or otherwise lagging behind in responsibilities. It can also mean that they are choosing to spend what free time they do have in undesirable ways, aka on an endless scroll through Instagram. It can also be a combination of the two, because, why not? Parenting is fun that way.

art camp camper with cat

It makes sense if you’re first inclination when handling an issue like this is to do a crackdown of sorts, and place your kids on a restrictive regimen, wherein they need to account for all their time. Strictly organized charts and schedules are often a part of this. It’s an understandable impulse, of course. It’s the same sort of thing that makes me, as an adult, want to delete all the social media apps from my phone (because, like, Twitter really might be evil), and just go cold turkey and finally have control of my life for once. But, you know, my installing artificial and sometimes deleterious limits on yourself or your kids, you are ultimately just taking away the ability to self-regulate.

This is where the Ballibay philosophy comes into play. Whereas other camps offer highly regimented days for campers, during which pretty much every moment is accounted for, Ballibay lets kids direct themselves and figure out how to prioritize. And there’s no reason not to implement these lessons at home. It’s important for kids to understand that managing time isn’t about becoming a slave to schedules and routines. Yes, it’s important to have routines, but they should be serving you, not the other way around. The ultimate goal, after all, is not to keep kids so busy with homework and work at home that they don’t have time to be distracted. Rather it’s to guide them to make good choices among the many distractions that exist in this world.

The goal is to guide kids to make good choices among the many distractions that exist in this world.

Sometimes they’ll need help. One of my sons has a very long subway commute back and forth to school each day (over two hours roundtrip). I didn’t want to ban his phone outright during the commute, but I also didn’t want him to be reliant on it. So we talked about other things he could do on the subway, to keep himself occupied for the long ride. He agreed to start reading not-for-school novels on the train, but said he was skeptical that it would really work for him. And yet, within a few days, he’d finished the book he’d reluctantly brought and was asking to go to the bookstore and get more by the same author. It was great for me too, because, since I go with him halfway to school, I also made a point to not be on my phone and to bring either a book or a magazine (hey, that huge stack of old New Yorkers isn’t going to read itself!).

There’s nothing wrong with a little outright restriction when it comes to phones and TV and social media, but it’s important that kids have alternatives to take their place. It’s also important that the kids get to figure out what alternative they choose. Sometimes that might just be laying on their bedroom floor, thinking about who knows what. That’s fine too. The goal isn’t to manage their time for them, but for them to figure out how to manage it for themselves. It’s a goal that’s incredibly worthwhile, because it will serve them their whole lives. It’s definitely one I wish I had started figuring out a little bit earlier, but, you know, it’s really never too late to find the rhythm you want for yourself, and to pick out the idiosyncratic beat of your hours as they roll out before you, waiting to be filled or not filled however you see fit.

art camp gardening


November 21, 2017By Kerin

art camp garden

When my kids were little, a screen-free upbringing (or, at least, screen-limited) was incredibly important to me. They so rarely watched television and so rarely saw me watching television that I vividly remember the first time my older son saw a commercial on TV; he was four years old and after watching a string of ads in the middle of a cartoon show, he turned to me and asked: “How did we ever know what to buy without watching these?”

I’ve repeated that anecdote for a dozen years now, always enjoying my son’s precocious observation, as well as the implication that he was never exposed to anything so mundane as regular TV. As do many parents, I sometimes veer toward being straight up obnoxious. (What? It masks other deep-rooted insecurities! Anyway.)

It’s funny, now, because any smugness I used to feel about not being a parent who parked their child in front of a show whenever they needed 15 minutes to take a shower has long since vanished. However, the screens to which my 16- and 13-year-old sons are most attached are not televisions, but rather those of their phones. Like just about all people not only of their generation, but also of any generation alive today, my kids are more likely to be found without their, I don’t know, literal arms than their phones.

Any smugness I used to feel about not being a parent who parked their child in front of a show whenever they needed 15 minutes to take a shower has long since vanished

I suppose it all started innocently enough, with regular flip phones purchased once they came of an age to walk to school alone. I’m far from a helicopter parent, but I did want text message-confirmation that my kids had made it the few blocks away to school safely. Soon enough, those flip phones graduated into smart phones and it felt like, overnight, all the work I’d done over the years—the limited time spent watching television, the refusal to buy video game systems, the insistence upon reading books and listening to music on car rides—had vanished in an instant. It was… disheartening, to say the least.


And yet, it was hard for me to be altogether that surprised. After all, I too had a smart phone and a near compulsive habit of looking at it throughout the day. And too harshly limiting the time they spent on their phones felt Sisyphean; their phones were their way of connecting to their friends and the outside world, of gathering news, and, yes, playing games. Sure, I could ask them to put their phones away when I was around them—and they would listen—but I’m not around them all the time, and I’d be a fool to think the phones didn’t come back out once I was gone.

Further complicating this phone- and social media-addicted reality is the fact that, as mentioned before, I fall prey to it as well. And I relate to why they succumb to their phones: They view them as an escape, as relaxation time, a way to unwind after the rigors of their school days and homework sessions.

It’s an ironic aspect of our reality that the way in which so many of us choose to disconnect from the rest of our lives is by connecting to our screens

But, of course, it’s not that simple. While, yes, it can feel like a specific type of mental zoning out to just text with friends, or scroll mindlessly through our Instagram feeds, there is nothing inherently relaxing about being attached to a screen. On the contrary, phones—and everything they represent—are stimulants; the constant stream of information keeps us on edge—and craving more and more. It’s an ironic aspect of our reality that the way in which so many of us choose to disconnect from the rest of our lives is by connecting to our screens. But it’s a hard habit to break, one whose only cure can seem to be going cold turkey. Easier said than done though, right?

And yet: There is one surefire way of achieving a true disconnect—at least, one that I found for my sons. And that’s their time in camp. While some camps don’t have a strict no-phones policy (often enough it’s because parents just can’t handle not being in touch with their children!), Ballibay does—and I can’t help but think that this is one of the reasons my children look forward to their summer weeks there so much.

Since they can’t use their phones, my kids don’t even bring them; there’s absolutely no temptation to use them at all. Instead, they spend their time engaged with the people and activities around them. One of the things I most love about Ballibay’s philosophy is how camper-led it is, by which I mean that it’s the kids who figure out what it is they want to do and when to do it, and go from there. This leads to a true feeling of agency for the campers, something which I think is missing when they find their free time being occupied by the siren calls of social media. There’s no choice attached to using your phone, is the thing; it feels like an inescapable situation, like the addiction it is. At Ballibay, without their phones, kids get to experience what it’s really like to make a choice about what it is they want to be doing.


I’ve thought often about the many times I would, as a child, either think to myself or say out loud, I’m bored, and how my own kids rarely ever do that—they always have something to occupy them, and it happens to be their phones. But boredom is not a bad thing, because it takes ingenuity and creativity to solve this problem. If a phone and all its bells and whistles can answer the question of what to do all the time, we eventually won’t have the ability to do so ourselves—we’ll be letting apps answer that question for us.

This is all the more reason it’s important to divest our kids of their phones on occasion. At Ballibay, they spend weeks without them, and, as per my kids, they don’t even miss them. So the real question is, how do we maintain that, as parents, during the camp off-season?

For me, the answer to that begins with my own phone use. I’ve made the conscious choice not to look at my phone as much around my kids, or during time when I would’ve mindlessly used it, like on my daily subway commutes. Demonstrating to my kids that I’m exercising my option to pull out a book to read, or a notebook to jot down thoughts, or even nothing at all, and am just allowing my mind to wander where it wants to go, has been, I think (I hope!), a powerful thing for them to witness. Then, too, I have put into place stricter rules about when they can and can’t use their phones at home. And when they’ve complained, it’s been simple enough to remind them of how long they went without phones at Ballibay, and how much they enjoyed their time there.

The importance of having separation from screens can’t be overemphasized. Not being with a phone teaches kids—and adults—a level of resourcefulness that we’ve grown complacent about. It teaches us all to be more creative, to interact in the old-fashioned, analog way (you know, face-to-face communication!), and it serves as an important reminder that our phones and social media presences belong to us, but we do not belong to them. The power is within us, and it’s beneficial to unplug once in a while—or even more than that.


August 7, 2017By Kerin

arts camp dance performance 1

Talk to most adults about dance education and they will probably vaguely recall having to learn ballroom dancing at the command of their parents, who envisioned… years of country club dances in their futures? Hard to say! Or perhaps they’ll recall learning to square dance in 6th grade gym, a unit stuck in between gymnastics and volleyball. (Was that just my gym experience? Maybe.) But few adults have much experience with actual dance training beyond that, unless they were more serious about its pursuit, and studied it on their own time. And this is a shame, because the benefits of dancing and dance education are something that’s valuable for all of us, a truth handily proven at Ballibay.

As with other artistic mediums, like theatre, dance can provide kids with an education that surpasses its readily seen benefits. Because while, yes, studying dance can increase a student’s grace, poise, posture, and awareness of things like rhythm and the movements of their bodies, it can also teach children so much more.

There is a long tradition throughout the world of culture’s using dance to celebrate, to mourn, to tell stories, and to educate

Dance offers a lifelong lesson in kinesthetic intelligence, a type of education in what it is that the body can do both separate from and in tandem with the mind. It increases the ways in which children communicate with their own bodies, giving them a greater understanding of the importance of a gesture, a tilt of the head, a shift in weight from one foot to another. It also allows kids to better interpret another person’s body language, a skill that is bound to come in handy at countless points throughout their lives.

arts camp dance performance 2

More so than that, dance is an art form that has been present at every stage of civilization; partaking in its beauty is a way of connecting to humans past, present, and future. There is a long tradition throughout the world of culture’s using dance to celebrate, to mourn, to tell stories, and to educate. Dancing is as much a part of the human condition as song and speech; learning this language is an invaluable tool for anyone interested in better understanding our collective humanity.

For kids who are not interested in competitive sports, dance also offers an alternative means of exercising and engaging the body, something that is invaluable in this rather sedentary age. The demands made on a dancer’s body are specific to the medium, and they teach a dancer to pay attention to the signals their body is giving them, until listening to these cues becomes second nature.

For kids who are not interested in competitive sports, dance also offers an alternative means of exercising

And like other art forms, dancing is strongly correlated to problem solving, and thus the intellectual engagement a dancer has is related to their need to identify patterns, and find solutions for the questions at hand.

There’s a (very) corny saying that’s been floating around the internet for the last few years, and you’ve probably seen it quoted on some Facebook friend or another’s wall: “Dance like nobody’s watching.” This maxim is, I guess, supposed to encourage people to live life freely, and not to care about what anyone else around you thinks about what it is you’re doing—even if that’s dancing like a whirling dervish. And I understand the sentiment, I really do. But the beautiful thing about dance, and what anyone who studies it will soon understand, is that dancing is something that is best not done in a vacuum, and indeed can not be done in one—the dancer herself is always watching. Rather, dance is an art of mindfulness; it is about being present and attuned to yourself and those around you, and letting the body lead the way as you move through the world, one step at a time.

arts camp dance performance 3


July 29, 2017By Kerin

arts camp campers with cats

One of my favorite parts about the whole summer camp experience is getting letters (in the form of emails) from my children. While conversations with them can sometimes be semi-frustrating experiences centered around dragging information out of them, news just tends to flow when they’re writing about their camp lives in letter-form. It’s a different way of getting to know them, and interesting insight into how their minds work. (Sometimes very interesting, as when one child remarked that he can’t stop thinking about how climate change will ultimately lead to the underwater submersion of New York City, but other than that, he’s having a great time.)

Anyway, in a recent email, one of my son’s told me with clear excitement that he had been cast in two different Ballibay productions, Anne of Green Gables and The Addams Family. Both parts were prominent, and both seemed perfectly suited for him. I was thrilled, knowing how much he loves acting at Ballibay, and how much he’s enjoyed it in the past. So a follow-up email surprised me, because he wrote that he would probably leave one of his roles, since coordinating the rehearsal schedule was quickly proving difficult. He then continued on to talk about the rock band he would be a part of, and how he had tried playing a saxophone for the first time and really liked it, even if it did make his lips kind of numb.

My son was doing what was right for him, and declining to overload his schedule in such a way as would be overwhelming

Upon reading the email mentioning wanting to leave one of his much-coveted roles, I found myself initially wanting to write to him to try and find some way to still play both parts. After all, I thought, camp only comes around once a year, might as well stuff in as much activity as possible. But I refrained, because once I considered the situation a little bit more, I realized that my son was doing what was right for him, and declining to overload his schedule in such a way as would be overwhelming for him, and probably prevent him from fully enjoying anything he was doing.

As a camper-directed program, without the rigid schedules of so many other summer camps, Ballibay offers children the incredible opportunity to learn how to prioritize without adult interference. This is an extraordinarily rare and incredibly powerful gift. We all know the adage, “With great freedom comes great responsibility,” and we can see it in action at Ballibay. Campers have the opportunity to do whatever they want with their schedules. In some cases that can mean taking it slow, using their days to do everything from play with the camp’s resident kittens, or stare at the clouds in the sky and marvel at the way they look like nothing so much as clouds. In others, that can mean packing their days with horseback rides, play rehearsal, dance practice, garden duty, band jams, and so much more. But the point is that kids get to choose what they want for themselves.

We all know the adage, “With great freedom comes great responsibility,” and we can see it in action at Ballibay.

And with my son, he realized that he values a lack of stress more than anything else. This is a lesson that I am thrilled he can take back with him to his regular life of school, friends, lessons, clubs, and other activities. As important as it is to give our kids opportunities so that they can lead enriching, stimulating lives, it’s just as important to give them the opportunity to guide themselves through it all, and choose what it is they really want to do. It’s a lesson I know that I (and just about every parent I know) could still stand to pay attention to. I multitask to a degree that definitely ups my stress level, and I rarely consider saying no to things that I want to do, because, well, I want to do them. But the next time I find myself about to participate in something that I know I don’t have the time or energy for, I’m going to pause and think about how Ballibay has taught my kids to prioritize, and try and implement that into my own life.


July 25, 2017By Kerin

arts camp activity

As much as we all look forward to seeing our children at the end of their summer camp sessions—and as much as they undoubtedly look forward to seeing us as well—there’s no doubt that there’s something of an adjustment period. It’s the time when we help our kids re-enter their regular lives, after weeks of living independently, with wildly different schedules and activities than they were used to at camp. This is something that many Ballibay families are experiencing now, as several sessions have come to a close. (And it’s something that every Ballibay family will experience in the coming weeks, as camp draws to an end across the board.)

And while this re-entry period isn’t as dramatic as if our kids were surfacing from having spent weeks in a submarine or something, it still is a very important time for them. Our kids have not only just spent weeks forging relationships with other campers and counselors, but also new relationships with themselves. The value of these days of independence, self-directed learning, and cooperative living can not be overestimated. For campers, their time at Ballibay is a liberating one, and the desire to preserve this experience and extend it into their regular lives can be fierce.

But what about helping kids adjust in a more immediate sense?

Bringing the Ballibay arts camp philosophies of non-competitive play and process-oriented education is a long-term goal, which can be incorporated into home lives in a holistic way. Which is great—really! But what about helping kids adjust in a more immediate sense? How to stop the moodiness that descends pretty much the very minute your car starts crunching down the long, wooded road that leads away from camp, back to home? Surely I can’t be the only parent whose children greet her with tears that are both a product of excitement and of despair?

In the past five years of picking up my kids from arts camp, I’ve learned that—much in the same way it is incredibly annoying when people start talking about a movie you’ve just seen before the credits have even started rolling—the best thing to do is give your kids some space as you leave one realm and enter into the next. Don’t pepper them with questions about what they did or who they befriended. Let them tell you as they’re ready. They might be ready an hour into your drive home. Or they might be ready in a week. Or they might prefer to write their thoughts and feelings in a journal instead of ever telling you. All this is fine. It’s your job to help them find their comfort zone.

Beyond that, though, let them lead their adjustment period by showing you the things they did at camp that they want to do at home. Campers spend time at Ballibay making things, from ceramics to sewn goods to paintings; carry over this creativity into your home life. Leave things out for your kids so that they can direct their own activities. Encourage them to cook with you and go to the farmer’s market to get vegetables, both reminiscent of activities available at Ballibay. You don’t need to mimic camp to help them adjust, but it doesn’t hurt to give them the option of continuing some of their favorite activities.

Also, encourage your kids to stay in touch with their camp friends. Communication is, obviously, easier than ever these days, but sometimes kids get a little shy about initiating contact post-camp. Don’t put pressure on them, but definitely encourage them to do so. Friends made at camp are a wonderful resource for kids, particularly those kids who sometimes have a hard time socially at school.

And then finally, a fun thing to do would be getting a little pop culture involved. Read camp-centered books like Meg Wolitzer’s The Interestings or Ned Vizzini’s The Other Normals; watch movies like Addams Family Values and Wet Hot American Summer, which are doubtlessly far from your camper’s experiences, but still super fun nonetheless. Just have a good time with the whole thing. And remember, the opening day of Ballibay the summer camp for kids 2018 is only a mere 11 months away.


July 18, 2017By Kerin

theater camp performance 1

It’s well known at this point that many, if not most, public schools have had to cut back on their theater camp arts programming. (This is, after all, one of the reasons we’re all sending our kids to art camp, right?) But while there’s a lot of awareness of decreasing budgets for music and fine arts classes, there is less attention paid to the lack of theatrical study now on offer at schools. Perhaps this is because the ability to draw a still life or carry a simple tune is seen as a more general artistic talent, available to many, whereas taking to the stage to perform in a theatrical piece is seen as specialized, reserved only for those who have a real passion for the stage.

Whatever the reason, it’s a shame that more children aren’t involved with theatrical arts, because the skills gleaned from acting on stage can be applied to all areas of life. Below are some of the many ways in which theatrical experience can be a huge asset to your child. As someone pretty famous once said, all the world’s a stage, why not encourage your kids to play on it?

It instills in them a sense of being one small—but vital—part of a larger whole

Collaboration: Unless your child winds up only acting in one-man, self-directed and -written shows (which, wow, that’s impressive), chances are that they will be working with a whole team of people. This instills in them a sense of being one small—but vital—part of a larger whole. They can see firsthand the impact that their work has on the team, and will learn how to better move a collective creative vision into a final product.

Confidence: There’s tons of adults I know who are terrified of standing up in front of a big crowd, let alone speaking to one. Few, if any, of these adults were involved with theatre when they were kids. Theatre camp helps children understand that they have it in them to command a room; they are important enough to have all eyes on them. Being on stage, whether as a star or bit player, affords kids an opportunity to experience what it’s like to have everyone else around hush up and pay attention. And it gives them the tools to know what to do with that focus: Speak loudly and clearly, and communicate effectively.

Body language: Acting is a full-body experience, and lots of kids have no clue what they ought to be doing with their bodies. Theatre exercises make kids cognizant of how they carry themselves in this world, and how even the slightest gestures can convey different emotions and attitudes. They will learn about the power of their own breath, the way they can use their voice to make themselves heard in all sorts of different ways.

theater camp performance 2

Reading between the lines: Being a careful and perceptive reader is a skill that most kids learn in their English classes at school, but the kind of extra close line-by-line reading that theatre necessitates can lead to a whole new level of reading comprehension. It’s a wonderful gift for kids to have to move through a play sentence by sentence, wondering what the motivation is behind each and every word. The limited amount of exposition in scripts means that kids will have to use their imaginations to understand what a character’s intent actually is. This is invaluable when it comes to our children’s future, regarding everything from critical thinking about books to the ways in which our kids will learn to intuit how other people are thinking and feeling.

Failure is an option, but that’s okay: Here’s a thing about live theatre: If something can go wrong at one point, it probably will. Maybe a line will be forgotten. Maybe an entrance will be missed. Maybe a prop will go missing. Maybe a set piece will fall. Maybe crazy right-wingers will come rushing the stage screaming about gerbils because they don’t understand political satire. Whatever the case may be, disaster often strikes live theatre. And you know what? Everything still turns out just fine. This is an important lesson for kids to learn. There’s so many variables in life. So few are fully under our control. That’s why we’ve got to learn to roll with the punches, and do our best anyway. And also to…

Improvise: Just because something gets messed up, it doesn’t mean everything needs to stop. The show—like life—must go on. This is so important for kids to realize; even when they are literally the star of the stage, they too need to adapt to big changes. And in that adaptation comes a different kind of liberation, one which shows kids that there can be freedom in veering away from the designated script, and just experiencing what comes next with no plan in sight.

A life in theatre can teach you a different way of seeing the world—as a stage, as a playground, as a home to make your own

Rejection: It’s a fact that not everyone can be the star of a show; some people might not even ever make it on stage. This sucks and can be hard to deal with, but it’s also a necessary life lesson. It’s also one that parents often try to shelter their children from learning. But that can’t be done in theatre. Kids will need to learn how to accept it, or… well, there is no “or.” Rejection is a part of life, and it’s good to get exposed to its sting.

Praise: Beyond getting used to rejection, though, kids should get used to praise. One of the best parts of being on stage is—without a doubt—the applause. Oh, that’s not because everyone should constantly be showered with cheers and flowers, but rather because it’s a wonderful thing to be openly praised for all the hard work and talent and effort that go into a theatrical profession. And just as it’s good to teach kids about rejection, it’s good to teach them about praise. Through this type of affirmation, kids can better understand what results from their work and also take the time to praise the work of those who helped bring their creative passion into fruition.

Theatre might not be life-changing for every kid who participates in it. And, look, it’s not that all actors are wholly well-adjusted people. (Though, to be honest, I’m sure that they’re not any better or worse than any other adults. Humans—we’re a messy bunch.) But being on stage can impart valuable lessons to all who partake in it. In essence, a life in theatre can teach you a different way of seeing the world—as a stage, as a playground, as a home to make your own.

theater camp performance 3


July 10, 2017By Kerin

art camp student with photographs

When people talk about the death of the written word and the breakdown in modern communication, one of the things they most often point to as a sign of these new times is the fact that nobody sends each other letters anymore. The replacement of lengthy correspondence with emoji-laden text messages is supposedly one of the more tragic symptoms of society’s collapse since, like, there’s no possible way a smiling poop could ever replace the rich treasure trove that is our written language. It’s a travesty—an outrage! Or, you know, maybe it’s not.

Despite being a writer and editor by profession, and therefore, like, a relatively big fan of words and using them, I tend to be less sentimental than most about how language usage is evolving because of technological innovations. In part this is because I feel like, thanks to smart phones, my kids and I communicate far more than I ever did with my parents. And I kind of like getting all-emoji messages from them! It’s just straight-up fun to see when they use the upside down smiling face as compared to when I do. (Admit it, you love it too.)

But also, I think the reason that I’m pretty relaxed with how my kids do and don’t communicate with me throughout the year is because I know that, come summer, a whole new avenue of communication will open up to us: Letters from camp. (Okay, well, maybe some kids send literal letters; mine send emails, but it’s the same thing. No, really!)

When you’re communicating with your child while you’re both under the same roof, there’s a laziness attached to the whole thing

My kids’ letters from camp are amazing precisely because they come at a time when not only is the way our society communicates drastically changing, but so is the way that they and I communicate with each other. While every parent-child relationship is different, one thing most parents I know have experienced as their children grow into young adulthood is a breakdown in face-to-face communication. Maybe “breakdown” is too fraught a word; the changes that often come in how we talk to our kids and how they talk to us can perhaps be more fairly said to be evolving than deteriorating. But the fact is that when you’re communicating with your child while you’re both under the same roof, there’s a laziness attached to the whole thing, a mutual understanding that you can get by without saying too much, because you kind of already know what’s going on in each other’s lives. (You do live together after all.)

This level of familiarity leads to a sort of conversational shorthand, featuring lots of simple questions asked by parents: “Is your homework done?” “How was school?” “Did you empty the dishwasher?” “Can you please pick up the towels from the bathroom floor?” And lots of simple answers given by children: “No.” “Fine.” “Yes.” “Yes.” Sure, there are sometimes more meaningful exchanges, but for the most part, you fall into a conversational rut with your kids, as they do with you.

This all changes when they’re away at camp. Suddenly, you don’t know what they’re doing every waking hour; their days are filled with mysteries, ones that you can only learn about by asking them real questions. But then also, your days are suddenly mysterious to them. (Do not think this necessarily means that they will ask you about yours—they’re still kids, after all—just think of it as being material for you to write about in letters to them.) The point is, though, that you will now have questions to ask them that have nothing to do with the banalities of every day life at home. You will have real things to ask about. And you will get back real responses in return.

It’s a way of communicating that can’t possibly involve the poop emoji

Or, you know, you might not! One of the things I’ve found most amazing about writing and receiving letters with my two children is that even if I write vaguely similar things to each of them, I get back wildly different replies. One son makes a point of writing long and detailed emails, full of information about the highs and lows of everything he’s experiencing; the music he’s making, the play in which he’s performing, the friends he’s meeting. He asks questions about me and what’s happening in my life. It’s incredibly revealing about who he is as a person: empathetic, considerate, curious, and serious.

My other son, however, rattles off pithy missives, full of jokes and intentionally misspelled words. He rarely asks how I am, and doesn’t reveal too much detail about what’s going on in his life, and yet it’s impossible not to read between the lines and get a full picture of his life at camp, one reflective of his personality: vibrant, spontaneous, full of humor and light.

As I now enter the sixth year of having a child enrolled at Ballibay, I realize more than ever how much the letters they send me are an important part of the camp experience—at least for me, but I”m sure also for them. It’s a way of getting closer to my children, even as we separate from one another. It’s a new way to get to know them, and to figure out how to communicate with one another, and share the news of our daily lives and thoughts and feelings. It’s learning to talk to one another as more than just parent and child, but as people who are engaged in different activities, who exist in different spheres of influence. It’s a way of telling each other “I love you” and “I miss you,” of asking “how are you,” and really meaning it, not just saying it without thinking.

And because no iPhones are involved, it’s a way of communicating that can’t possibly involve the poop emoji—that can be saved for the rest of the year.


July 4, 2017By Kerin

art camp barn and rainbow

Guilt. We’ve all experienced it when it comes to our kids, right? It can feel like it’s simply an inescapable part of being a parent, a companion about as welcome as, say, bed bugs, and just as difficult to vanquish.

Perhaps the worst part about parental guilt is that it often attaches itself to some of our greatest pleasures. This includes the joy with which we send our children off to summer camp, assured in the knowledge that they’re about to spend two or three or more weeks in a new and nourishing environment which they love.

But then the questions and comments from other parents, or even friends who don’t have kids, start. You know the ones: “But aren’t you going to miss them?” “I just don’t think I could be away from my kids for that long.” “Don’t your kids miss you?” “I’m sure my child would not be okay being apart from me for that length of time!”

“But aren’t you going to miss them?”

And, okay, sure, maybe passive-aggressiveness at this level shouldn’t bother us, but we’re only human! Plus, for most parents I know, there’s not much that we’re more sensitive about than the well-being of our kids and the quality of the level at which we’re raising them.

I mean, just consider this relatively short list of the seemingly infinite things that I—and many parents I know—feel guilty about when it comes to their kids:

  1. Not being involved enough with the school PTA
  2. Ordering Seamless as often as you cook an actual meal
  3. Knowing that, for you, “cooking an actual meal” often means steaming broccoli and making boxed mac and cheese (it’s, you know, organic, but still)
  4. Missing their bedtime because you went out to dinner with a friend
  5. Not knowing the name of their gym teacher/art teacher/math teacher
  6. Forgetting to bring sunscreen when you spend the first sunny day at the park
  7. Forgetting to bring snacks
  8. Forgetting to bring a water bottle or even money to buy water because who remembers to bring cash on a walk through the park (oh. every other parent? cool)
  9. Being bored at the playground/a Little League game/the second grade ukulele recital
  10. Pretending to be busy doing “work” on your phone, when really you’re just working on the New York Times crossword

I could go on! But I won’t, because, as I said, this list is basically infinite. It’s also kind of… absurd. Everything listed is something that might induce feelings of guilt, but nothing that would ruin your child’s life or make you deserve the dreaded (imaginary) label of “bad parent.”

It’s funny, really, that even something which we know to be a sign of “good parenting”—i.e. nurturing a love for the arts and fostering independence and extended periods of creativity—can lead to feelings of guilt. It makes some sense when you consider how much our identities as parents are tied into our identities on the whole. And so when we spend a few weeks without our kids, it isn’t just our image of ourselves as parents that needs to be reimagined—it’s our entire image of who we are, period.

It can be difficult to adjust to a guilt-free way of living—believe me, I know.

And this can be scary! Also, guilt-inducing. After spending so many years wrapped up in our identities in relation to someone else, when that person is gone, who do we become?

Um, we become ourselves again—and should do so unapologetically. Which is to say, sleep away camp is a time when parents can partake in all the activities which they might not be able to so easily do with their kids around. Maybe this means taking a weekend—or full week—away. Maybe this means multiple nights out in a row. Maybe this means staying in bed on Sunday morning binge-watching Game of Thrones. The choices are endless, really. And, most importantly, they’re yours.

It can be difficult to adjust to a guilt-free way of living—believe me, I know. It’s unfortunate that modern parenting comes with this particular type of stress. But if your guilt is related to sending your kids off for a few weeks each summer, just pause for a moment and reflect on whether or not this guilt is misplaced. It probably is! Particularly when you know your kids are having a great time without you, and that they’ll have a better time with you when they get back if you’ve actually managed to enjoy their time away.

And really, there’s so much to enjoy without kids around. I mean, may I reiterate: Game of Thrones is coming back soon. No regrets.