#daughtersandcamping

When my son and daughter were 8 and 6 respectively, I started seeing videos of fun outdoor group activities up on my local YMCA’s TVs. Every gym visit, I’d stop and watch the water fights, campfires, and kids playing. That looked like a blast. After asking the front desk, I was given a flyer that said “Parent/child camping programs”. There was a group for families, one for parent/daughter, and one for parent/son. I raced home and asked my husband and kids if they were interested. My husband and son rejected the idea immediately, but my 6 year old girl responded with perfect vocal blasting enthusiasm! We were joining! So I signed us up for the Parent/Daughter group, Adventure Princesses.

I did wonder why the YMCA clerk asked me twice if it really was for me (the mom) and my daughter. I started looking at the pictures more closely. The parents were all dads. So I asked a gym friend if there were other moms in the program, and the look on his face said it all. In one split second, it revealed that I had unintentionally broken into a YMCA boy’s club. Later, I found out that the program used to be for dads and daughters only, but it had just recently been opened to women. “How progressive of them!” I thought, while rolling my eyes. I decided that I might feel a bit weird, but Amber was excited and so was I. I wasn’t backing out.

The YMCA camping program director at the time, Carlos, reassured me that it would be fine, and assigned me to a tribe called the Dudettes. Amber and I were beside ourselves with excitement about our first campout. I wondered how the men must feel about taking on a woman (gasp) as a tribe member. I showed up, met the dads and daughters we’d be camping with, and set up my tent. I could feel the men watching, assessing, and probably fearing. Would I be a killjoy and ruin their getaway fun? Would I become the tribe cook and cleanup person? (Ha! They were sorely disappointed with that one.)

The girls all hit it off, and as kids do when they finally unplug from our electronics-saturated lives - they played to exhaustion. They climbed trees, ran, made up stories, and used their imaginations. It was so beautiful. The first day wound down, and I followed suit and put my daughter to bed, then came out for adult fire time. I noticed that our tribe leader (and grand poobah of the whole shindig), was drinking from a can in a paper towel. I asked what it was. He very casually said, “A beer. You want one?” There was a collective inhalation and pause, while these men waited to see what type of fellow camper I’d be. “Sure. That’d be great,” I responded. The group relief seemed palpable, at least to me. I also found it fun that weekend and beyond, to mock my other tribe dads, whose wives insisted they brush their daughter’s hair in the mornings, always make them use hand sanitizer, and keep them “girly”. While my little bohemian girl ran around unshowered, unwashed, and with dreadlocks by the end of the weekend. God, I was proud.

From then on, I was accepted as just another parent, and at least in my tribe, my gender wasn’t a big deal. In the group program as a whole (maybe a couple hundred dads/daughters each camping weekend), I saw only a couple other moms who came with their husbands and daughters. I’d often get asked, “Where’s your husband? Why didn’t he come?” The looks I’d receive from some of the older dads, mirrored that very first “you don’t belong” reaction I’d received from the gym friend. I always found it ironic, that these men wanted to teach their daughters to be strong, independent campers...yet, what message were they sending, that they discouraged their wives to join? They seemed to be saying to their daughters, “Enjoy real fun while you’re young, kid, cuz once you pop out the babies, you have to stay home and clean and stuff.” I felt this whole attitude was beyond archaic, and I invited other town moms with daughters to join me, but to no avail. Seems that camping just wasn’t a popular pastime for suburban women, sadly.

By the 2nd year, my son Luke, heard all the stories and saw how much fun Amber and I had, and he decided he wanted to do it too. By that time, he was old enough for the bigger kid group, where the parents and kids (boys or girls) would do more complicated campouts like backpacking and hike-in camping. These campouts with both my kids, are still a very top highlight of my entire life. The one-on-one time with each of them was incomparable, as was the communication and bonding. I learned so much about my kids during these times, and was also able to share so much of the things that make me truly happy - outdoor activity and beautiful nature.

The 3rd year was a bit different, as our tribe accepted a few new dads and daughters. Unbeknownst to me, my presence at our season’s first campout and the ensuing Facebook pictures, caused a behind-the-scenes firestorm. The wives of these new tribe members were not informed that a woman (gasp again!) was part of the tribe. The result was that I was asked to leave my own tribe, and create a separate women/daughter tribe. The problem was (besides my justified anger), that Amber had already created friendships in my tribe, and there weren’t any other women for me to join. I listened to the chosen opposition’s “ambassador”, and his attempts at diplomacy - “Well, these women just want to make sure their husbands have a ‘safe’ place to go on their weekends. It’s not personal.” Given that I was faithfully married, wore very conservative camping clothes (even a tshirt covering my suit when we had swimming activities), and figured I smelled like a dude by the end of our weekends, I could really only laugh at the implications. I’ll forever be grateful, that when my tribe got wind of these attempts to oust me, they had my back. They stood up, refused to let my daughter and I leave our friends, and kicked the new offenders out. I truly loved them as my camping family in that moment.

Fast forward to the present day, and my son is an 18 year old college student, and my daughter will be graduating high school soon. After we left the YMCA groups, and I had become a divorcee, I still prioritized campouts for the 3 of us. We went hiking through forests and I made them take turns starting the campfire and setting up their own tents. The past couple of years, campouts have been scarce with college prep, increased teen social life, and school pressures. So recently, when my son came home from college for Christmas, and he asked for camping gear, I barely managed to respond calmly. And inside...well. A little part of my spirit heard his words, realized my love of the outdoors had stayed inside my son, and I’ll tell you - I was rocked hard. A parent’s deepest wish, is to share and impart the things we love about ourselves with our children. My gratitude at passing down my love of the outdoors and camping to my kids, is indescribable.