By Rena Strober

When someone asks me the most challenging part of my career I never respond with ‘Filming a TV show” or “learning the entirely of Les Miserables in 2 weeks before my Broadway debut.” My life as an actor has challenges but I had prepared for those jobs for the first 25 years of my life. So when it came time to sing on Broadway or take on a comic role on the Disney Channel I was more than ready.

But ask me to be an Arts Supervisor for 400 campers in the Poconos the summer after one of the hardest years of all of our lives? Well, that’s when the fears, concerns, challenges started to pile up in my mind. I was more nervous for my first day with the kids than I was singing at home plate at Shea Stadium. (GO METS!)

Would these kids like me? Would like trust me? Respect me? Would I made a difference in their summer experience? Would my minimal knowledge of ceramics and wood shop limit me in my teaching and role modeling?

The day came. That beautiful 78 degree Wednesday when cars began driving through with joyful, scared, pale, enthusiastic faces in the backseat and those 2 parental faces in the front seat that all said “We’ve been waiting for this for 18 months!! See you in 3 1/2 weeks. We’re off on vacation!” (I hope everyone is having a lovely time on their empty nest vacation) 

Suddenly as I looked into the eyes of these young campers my fears began to subside. They all looked wide eyed and ready for whatever the summer had in store because it was going to be a lot better than remote learning. These faces screamed “I don’t need to make a 4-story bird house in wood shop because I just want to remember what wood shop smelled like!”

I began to realize that what these kids needed wasn’t an ‘art education’ but the freedom and support to use art as a way to express what the past 18 months had done to all their covid affected souls. They wanted to sit around a picnic table with their friends and laugh at the paintings they were doing regardless if they were the next Picasso. Trace their hands and fill it in with the words they were feeling because it felt miraculous to touch sharpie to paper again and have someone look over their shoulder. A real person watching them work that wasn’t a parent! They wanted to feel the cold clay in ceramics not because they were about to master the art of the flower vase, but because in that clay there were memories of the past and memories being made for the future.

Suddenly my job started to pull into focus. I didn’t need to feel so challenged as a teacher, I just needed to sit and listen and be present. The occasional smile, compliment, question and inquiry seem to go further than ever before.

So as classes began and bunks ran excitedly towards the trees at the foot of the omanut building steps I knew that this was the greatest audience I had yet to preform for. I welcomed them with open arms, with a singing cheer and let the incredible Art specialty counselors take over from there.

And I can assure all of you either sitting on the beach or those at home with younger kids, your kids are flourishing in Art..as creative souls but mostly has people coming back to themselves. Healing through art…moving past Covid…making memories that will outweigh the hurt of quarantine.

They’ve yet to give me a standing ovation but I’m remaining hopeful.