How to make people care deeply about everything that matters
On my first morning at camp, I could not believe my bleary eyes. As I walked to my cabin from the washrooms, I saw a few fellow campers and a bunch of staff silently picking up garbage strewn about the trash bins.
Having grown up in Maine, I guessed the mess was the midnight handiwork of hungry raccoons. Not having grown up at summer camp, I guessed the human clean-up crew was being punished or paid. For sure, I thought, those kids cleaning up got in trouble for something. I was also fairly sure that a senior staff member had ordered other staff to oversee the clean-up.
I was wrong about everything except the raccoons. The campers and staff were picking up trash because they cared. The fascinating question is: Why? The answer required more time living in that wonderful community, but by the end of two weeks, it was clear. People at the camp were guided by connections—to one another and to the environment—not by contracts.
Discounting Duty
People of all ages—in camps, in parks and rec programs, and in most other organizations—ignore, delegate, or neglect unpleasant tasks. We rationalize our loafing by stating (aloud or in our heads), “That’s not my job.” As a result, toilet paper and paper towels don’t get refilled; junk remains on the ground; equipment rots in the rain; dirty dishes begin to petrify; and even clothing with name tags mildews in a box. But those are small problems compared to the major consequence of loafing: the collective wisdom and energy of a group remains untapped, which places the organization into the Average Box.
Back to the raccoon havoc. Technically, trash and recycling are part of a Maintenance Director’s job description. But socially and emotionally, upkeep of a camp’s buildings and grounds is a responsibility felt by every staff member and returning camper. Perhaps some campers and staff led by example and others followed. But without any extrinsic reward, threatened punishment, or even a guilt-kindling plea, everyone spontaneously cleaned up an equally spontaneous mess because it mattered. It mattered to each of them, in their soul, that this shared community space stayed beautiful, clean, and fresh.
Tighter Weave
If you want participants and employees to care, if you want them to feel that other people, places, and things matter, then leaders must weave the fabric of their community tightly. To do so, they must include people in ways some members of the community might resist. This type of inclusion is an essential part of any strong and healthy community, and its power is deeper than the familiar, pop-culture version of inclusion.
Before sharing some examples, let me be clear. No one in an organization should behave in a way that knowingly puts themselves or others at risk. To give an 8-year-old the keys to a 15-passenger van in the name of inclusion is absurd. To allow a novice swimmer into the deep end of the pool in the name of inclusion is reckless. To give a tennis instructor a chance to run a commercial kitchen for a day in the name of inclusion is foolish. Therefore, extend participation thoughtfully, with intelligent consideration of the risks and benefits.
Scenario 1
An American overnight camp employs international students with marginal English skills to serve as seasonal custodial staff. Along with other responsibilities, these staff members empty rubbish bins in cabins, clean bathrooms, and bus tables in the dining hall after each meal.
Problems
- Campers habituate to sloppy behavior, knowing someone will clean up their messes after mealtime, free time, and program activities.
- Campers unwittingly perceive camp to be a classist community, wherein they—as children and adolescents—have higher status than the young adults paid to clean up after them. This master-servant mentality breeds entitlement.
- Visitors to the camp, including prospective families, see the trash and gear that campers have strewn around, witness activities finish without campers stowing equipment, and observe campers leaving messes behind after meals.
Solutions
- Include people from outside the U.S. in both camper ranks and staff ranks in order to minimize perceptions of an immigrant underclass.
- Include clean-up times in a daily schedule and make camper participation mandatory, meaningful, and even enjoyable.
- Include pre-season workshops for staff that teach the importance of taking initiative, leading by example, and offering specific praise.
Obstacles
Across all types of camps, parks, and rec programs, and across a wide range of camper and staff diversity, youth-development professionals want participants to grow more responsible and compassionate. Ironically, some directors object when I suggest that campers should help with activity set-up, equipment storage, building and grounds maintenance, and mealtime clean-up. “Their parents didn’t pay for them to do chores” is the most common rationale, to which I reply, “Their parents did pay for them to grow in character and maturity. If some families don’t want to re-enroll their children because you taught them responsibility and compassion through unselfish contributions to the community, those are not families aligned with your mission.”
Scenario 2
A parks and rec department runs a summer program for elementary- and middle-school children called Green Earth. The executive director hopes it addresses the market demand for outdoor education that includes modules on sustainable living, renewable energy, and repurposed materials.
Problems
- Most of the day is spent in an air-conditioned classroom, for fear kids or caregivers will complain about the sweltering temperatures outdoors.
- Although a program is advertised as “interactive” and “project-based,” staff members spend most of the day talking at participants and supervising their assembly of kit-based, desktop models of things like raised-bed gardens and compost piles.
- Participants learn facts but make few connections among the natural world, human behavior, and ecological challenges.
Solutions
- Include participants in walks and activities outside (with sunscreen, water, and shaded rest, of course), so they feel, see, smell, touch, and hear the very environment they are studying. Yes, there will be some bumps, bruises, and bug bites.
- Include participants in meaningful, age-appropriate curriculum planning. Share maps, habitat reports, and climate data so participants can discuss and collaborate on projects of their choice and design.
- Include full-scale, hands-on work, such as making check-dams to prevent erosion caused by human encroachment, building raised-bed gardens from fallen trees, or designing local sorting stations for recycling and landfill waste.
Obstacles
Across all types of camp and parks and rec programs, and across a wide range of camper and staff diversity, youth-development professionals want participants to learn about the world and become responsible citizens. Ironically, some directors object to kids getting hot, cold, wet, or dirty. Yet with proper clothing and other gear, along with plain old soap and water, kids and staff alike will be fine outdoors, in all but the most extreme conditions. Moreover, spending time in nature is not only restorative, but also essential when the environment itself is the programmatic focus. Creativity, understanding, and motivation will all be enhanced with actual immersion. Virtual and verbal immersion in a topic have value but are best deployed when actual immersion is not possible.
Playing The Long Game
We are all tempted, at times, to make expedient choices to lighten our professional load. Perhaps expediency troubles you, but if you’re like most youth-development professionals, you have a bigger problem with overcommitment than with cutting corners. (For the record, I commend your work ethic, and I recommend some recent articles on the mythical “work-life balance” published in Havard Business Review and Forbes.) What troubles me is making expedient choices to lighten meaningful demands on the young people we serve.
True inclusion is a messy adventure that demands perseverance. True inclusion necessitates getting one’s hands dirty, often literally. To avoid discomfort all around, we sometimes just talk about inclusion and keep kids content by smoothing the path on their learning journey. We as leaders mean well, but coddling young people robs them of important discoveries, it generates bias and entitlement, and it obscures inspiring connections. As my two examples illustrate, engineering comfy culture at camps and other youth-serving organizations inhibits young people’s growth.
If we want our kids to care—about whatever we think is important—we need to frame our adult jobs differently. Whatever our different duties are on paper, we should embrace the same approach to positive youth development: rather than telling kids what to do and then rewarding them when they do it (or punishing them when they don’t), we should show kids what to do through our own sterling examples. Better still, we should ask kids what they think needs to be done or why something is the way it is, then support them while they figure it out.
