Authenticity at Camp: The Paper Tells the Truth

Sunday at Falling Creek gave campers their first chance to begin thinking about this week’s theme: Authenticity.

At Campfire, Johnny “Beans” Ervin shared about his brother’s favorite shirt from growing up. Across the front it said, You should always be yourself, unless you can be Batman, in which case, always be Batman.

It is the kind of line that gets a laugh because the boys understand it right away. Batman is strong, brave, mysterious, and cool. Of course you would want to be Batman.

But Beans asked the boys to think about it another way. Maybe the saying should be reversed. Maybe it should be, You should always be Batman, unless you can be yourself, in which case, always be yourself.

That is where the conversation about authenticity began. Not with a complicated definition, but with a simple reminder that every boy starts from who he already is. He does not have to be louder, tougher, funnier, braver, or better at an activity to belong here. He does not have to become someone else first.

At riflery and archery, the targets are a record of what happened. The paper tells the story. It shows where the arrow landed, where the shot hit, what improved, and what still needs work. There is not much room for pretending, but there is also no shame in what the record shows.

A target can tell a boy where he is today. It does not tell him who he is.

That is part of what makes riflery such a good place for boys to practice being honest with themselves. They can see the result, make an adjustment, listen to instruction, breathe again, and try the next shot.

“It is good for them to have something in their hands because it gives them something real to reflect on,” said Kyle Armstrong, riflery instructor. “No matter the score, they can understand the work it took to get there.”

That kind of honesty is not harsh. It is helpful. The target gives each camper a real starting place, and from there, he gets to keep growing.

At blacksmithing, the same idea looks a little different. The boys work with heat, metal, timing, and patience. A piece of metal does not become something new all at once. It has to be heated, shaped, checked, and shaped again. Campers have to pay attention to what is actually happening in front of them, not what they hoped would happen on the first try.

Sometimes the metal bends differently than expected. Sometimes a strike leaves a mark. Sometimes the work takes longer than a boy thought it would. But the process gives him a chance to slow down, notice what is real, and keep working from there.

“Blacksmithing is a great patience builder,” said Jacob Payne, Ft. Payne, AL. “No matter the result, every boy has created something that is authentically his. They get to own the flaws and the successes of the finished product. It is a tangible result of their hard work. Each one has put his thumbprint on the project, and you can see them beam when you ask them about it.”

There is something steadying about that kind of work. It does not ask a boy to pretend he has it all figured out.

Woodshop offers another picture of authenticity. Every piece of wood has its own grain, knots, marks, and shape. The work does not begin by pretending those things are not there. It begins by noticing them.

A good project often comes from learning how to work with the wood as it is, not forcing it to be something else.

“When boys are just starting the woodshop skill, they usually can’t make a straight cut,” said Woodshop instructor Paul Heydenrych. “But they begin to learn how, so we coach them the whole time. Their first projects are not the most impressive things you have ever seen, but they are so proud of what they have made. It is authentically theirs. Later on, the most skilled workers at camp are just further along in their journey. I have learned through this skill that you shouldn’t base your experience on others. It’s not a race.”

That is a gentle picture of what boys are hearing this week. Being authentic does not mean being finished. It means being willing to start honestly, with who you are and what is true. At camp, boys get to practice that kind of honesty without it becoming too heavy. They can miss the target, make a crooked cut, strike the metal the wrong way, ask for help, and try again. None of those moments disqualify them. They simply give them a real place to begin.

The conversations about authenticity are still unfolding around camp: at church on Sunday, in conversations with counselors, at Campfire, during activities, and in the small moments that happen between meals, games, and cabin life.