Every sixteen year old child should attend a Counselor-In-Training program, somewhere.  No exceptions.  None of this “I need to make money,” or “I want to get my driver’s license,” or “I have to do weight training for fall sports.”  Nonsense.  All parents know this because they, too, were sixteen once and had similar, if not the identical, aspirations.  Where are you today for having done any of this?

At sixteen, I elected to be a CIT at Camp Norway, in Vermont, not far from today’s Kingswood.  At first, it was not a particularly pretty sight.  When assigned the task of bailing out the sailboats, that fine detail of lowering the centerboard escaped my attention and two boats sank mercilessly to the bottom of the lake.  When asked why I had made the same fateful effort twice, my totally ignorant reply was, “I thought the first boat was broken!”  I won’t bore you with additional counts in the indictment against me, but you can take my word that, at that age, I had a lot of growing up to do and plenty to learn.

 One day that summer, the head baseball counselor – a college professor – had his day off and no one was available to run practice for the Little League team.  I was approached and offered the gig.  Surprise number one:  I steadfastly refused to do it.  “They won’t respect me,”  “They will laugh at me,” were the lame excuses from this timid, boat-sinking greenhorn.  Well, they made me do it.  Surprise number two:  The boys had a blast, learned a lot, and demanded I be made permanent coach!  For me, the occasion was a transformative, lifetime enhancing experience.  To this day, I can point to that precise moment as the commencement of my adulthood.

Fast forward to the present, where, as director of Kingswood, I visit the fifteen year old cabin, the Guides Lodge, once per session with specific intention to relate the above-told story.   “There ought to be a law,” I tell them, followed by the typical Kingswood disclaimer “No hard feelings if you say no thanks.” However, I go on to urge them to do something significant with ensuing summers — more than just making money, taking driver’s ed, or lifting weights.  Instead, get involved with other people and try to make a difference. “If you elect to become a CIT at Kingswood,” I tell the boys, “you will find yourself in charge of something serious,” in this case, the health and wellbeing of younger kids.  “How do you know you are going to enjoy this sort of responsibility unless you try it?”

Every CIT at Kingswood succeeds at some level, thanks in large part to the dedication of guys like Klaus, who live in the “Barn,” which actually is more like a posh dormitory than an horse stall.  Seriously, selecting people who naturally relate to boys that age plus creating a cozy environment for the CIT’s gives them an enormous leg up in the process of having fun while learning.  Of course, not every boy automatically graduates to Kingswood staff status the following summer.  But, now having had the program in place for two summers, we at Kingswood are certain that a colossal amount of maturation accrues from the experience.

Being a CIT at Kingswood is fulfilling, plain and simple.  For most, it is the first time in their lives that they have been given meaningful responsibility.  What a rush CIT’s get from simple pats on the shoulder and the words “Well done,” especially when the kudos come from respected counselors just a few years older. Beyond that, as boys age, camp becomes even more fun and meaningful to them.   I call this statement “my deepest Kingswood secret,” as if the younger campers would be bummed out to know the glory years were still a ways off!  CIT’s receive every privilege they enjoyed as campers, and almost always to their preferred schedule.  They can stay up late.  They get a day off.  And, they get paid!

End of blog:  All the CIT details are on the web site.  Indeed, a CIT-related experience for high school sophomores should become the law of the land.  Elect me your president and I will sign a bill to this effect the moment it lands on my desk.