Bringing the mountain to Mohammad
My son Robespierre would live at camp all year if he could, not just because he enjoys the experience, but also because most of his true friends attend camp with him but live in other cities. The eight weeks he spends at camp every summer make up the only extended time he gets to be with his real friends. In addition, camp has a gentler, less confrontational ambiance; Robey can choose to participate only in activities that make him look and feel worthwhile.
Robey's rarely had a full dance card at home. Parties and events often seem to happen without him. Part of his problem is that he frequently prostrates himself before the social incasts who close ranks on anyone who's not them. On the other hand, he ignores kids who do want to be his friends out of seeming solidarity with Groucho Marx: ("I wouldn't want to belong to any club that would have me as a member"). It doesn't help either that some of the top drawer kids not only push him aside, but also say thoughtless things to him. When he mentioned on Facebook that he'd read The DaVinci* Code in one day, one of his classmates, a top of the heaper, responded that Robey needed to get a life.
If I could have reached through Facebook and grabbed that boy around the throat, I might have.
But something has happened.
When Robey was invited to a camp friend's Bar Mitzvah in Chicago last year, I resolved that if he was invited to something, even if it was out of town, he was going to attend. So I drove him to Chicago, where Cupcake and I stayed in a hotel and visited with cousins and Robey spent the weekend at his friend's home.
A month later he was invited to another Bar Mitzvah and this time I put him on a plane; the family picked him up and housed him for the weekend, and raved about what a great kid he is.
For Robey's Bar Mitzvah we invited nearly 20 camp friends, most of whom live out of town. Three of them drove in for the weekend and spent the night at our house; they were kind, polite, inclusive, and respectful. I'd never seen any group of kids react to my son the way these boys did. They were happy to be spending the weekend with Robey, and he was sincerely happy, relaxed and comfortable.
I saw that my son belongs to a nice group of nice kids who like him very much and treat him with respect.
I had a lot of time to myself this summer, as both kids were away for two months. I slept late, worked on my knitting, cleaned closets, gardened, had lunch and dinner with friends, and thought a lot about a lot of things. One of my pondering topics was how different Robey seems to be when surrounded by people who feed his soul. I resolved to do anything I possibly could to facilitate the process, even if I had to import a supply of boys month by month.
He's been invited to another camp friend's Bar Mitzvah in Chicago this month. Cupcake and I will drive him up and spend the weekend with her friends while he's with his.
In October I'm taking him to New York City for a long weekend as a belated birthday gift, where we'll spend some time with another friend who came into town for his Bar Mitzvah. Then in December, the New York friend will meet us in San Diego for a family vacation.
Yes it's a stretch, but it's worth it.
Just knowing that these events are on the calendar makes Robey feel more serene and balanced. He's dwelling much less on what his classmates are up to without him. He's even joined a couple after school groups without bothering to consider whether the activities have the kind of coolness quotient that might gain him points with the A-listers. I'm looking forward to watching him shine.
What's your most fulfilling way of going above and beyond?
*Really, Spellcheck? You've never heard the word DaVinci and you suggest Davidson as an alternative? If it weren't for Leonardo DaVinci, I suspect that you, Spellcheck, wouldn't even exist.
