by Steve Purdum on February 14
At our Centennial Celebration in 2010, I had the opportunity to have a long talk with an alumnus who attended Camp Mishawaka in the early 1920’s. At the time, he was probably the oldest living former camper, and the only one I have ever met who was able to recall stories of interactions with George F. “Doc” Green, the founder of Camp Mishawaka. Baseball was the game back in the day, and a Camp team would travel the Iron Range to take on groups of local boys. I think the competition was fierce. This gentleman told the story of his arrival at 3rd base, and the counsel he got from Doc as he eyed the prize of home plate. “If the batter makes contact with the ball, you head for home and take the sonovabitch out”- referring to the catcher guarding home. If I were to give such instructions today, I suspect it might trigger litigation, or at the very least, a terse parent phone call.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, as we work to help young men learn what it means to be a man, exhibit masculine virtues, and prepare them to be good fathers, role models and citizens. I suppose, as the trope goes, it was a “simpler time” when Doc gave this charge. Fresh from the horrors of the Great War, there was certainly a movement to toughen young men up. It was, in all likelihood, the just model for the time. This movement, in fact, was the catalyst for what became the American summer camp - a counter to what many saw as the softening of the American boy. But for all the supposed progress made in the last 100 years, it hasn’t gotten any easier to instruct young boys on what it means to be a man, or rather, how to become a man.
I was reminded the other day that there is no official ceremony when a boy becomes a man, but there are certainly important rites and rituals along the way that aid in the achievement. Getting a driver’s license, voting, registering for selective service, or even a first sexual encounter, are just a few. Beyond any one thing, what a young boy brings to his emerging manhood is a collection of experiences and encounters with male and female role models- and quite often not their fathers or mothers- that has the biggest impact on how and when he arrives in manhood. I worry that today’s models are not the ones we need for the time.
Not too long ago the world’s richest man challenged the world’s 3rd richest man to a cage match- the ultimate test of machismo, an apparent fight till the death! It got some press at the time but has all but vanished from our collective memory. Even at the time it didn’t really seem to shock anyone. And is this progress? Break things, indeed!
We view our work at Camp, and the work we do with our male staff, as key in providing a model that serves not only the interest of the child but better prepares them to be a good man. Even if a Boys Camp camper never signs up for a conditioning class, there is a sort of inherent strength training that is baked into a Camp Mishawaka experience- and by this I don’t mean how many push-ups or pull ups one can do. Rather, it is by helping boys to find and develop their strengths, whether they be physical or emotional, and how to use those strengths to help people, to elevate those around them, to protect and preserve, to use these strengths for the collective good, not just individual aggrandizement. The best way we know how to do that is to model it and give our Boys Camp campers the opportunity to develop these muscles. And the best way I know how to do that is to let them play at it a bit. Camp provides just that.
If I were coaching third base today and advising a young base runner, I’d like to think I could inspire the same drive without the destruction. I am not suggesting bringing the catcher a bouquet of flowers or coming toward the plate with less than a full-out effort. Taking that sonovabitch out is one way to put a run on the board, maybe, but there are certainly others. Our job is nothing less than helping these boys find the way that we can all live with, and that they can live with, for the rest of their lives.