To Elena, on autonomy

Dear Elena,

“Autonomy” is a big word, and a big idea. It means that you get to decide what you’re going to do. When you’re a baby, you have zero autonomy because you’re helpless. You need people to feed, clothe, and generally care for you.

As you get older, you become more and more “autonomous” – you can make your own decisions. Like at a certain age, you started having opinions about which clothes you wanted (and didn’t want) to wear. Because your parents are cool, they pretty much let you choose your clothes. And suddenly we all got a better understanding of who you were, because of clothes you chose.

Like most kids, you’ve gotten more autonomy with each passing month and year, but man, Strawberry this year – it was a big jump.

You were jumping out of your skin with anticipation for Strawberry this year. Last year was your first year there, and you thought it was the bomb. This year, your BFF Ayla was going to be there and that was definitely what you were most excited about.

Setting up camp

Your dad and I arrived Wednesday and got camp all set up. He did the really important work of finding “real estate” – a place for us to set up camp. He found an amazing spot near the parking lot, and just a few feet from the amphitheater where all the kid activities are.

Thursday, you and Ana drove up together, and got stuck in awful traffic. Ana said you were super chill about the whole thing, but man, when you got out the car, you came running…

“Aby! I’m at Strawberry!”

Yes, you were. While we sat around eating dinner, I told you about the “Find My Way Home” game I’d created. The fun thing is that now that you can read, I could just hand you the piece of paper, and watch you take it in…

You thought that was pretty cool, particularly as it dawned on you that you were going to be navigating around Strawberry on your own, with Ayla.

See, Strawberry is held at the Nevada Fairgrounds in Grass Valley, California. It’s a pretty big place, and I wanted you and Ayla to feel that you could find your way to and from the music meadow, or other activities, without needing a grown-up along.

It’s also a way to be sure that if you get lost, you can get un-lost. Strawberry is the perfect place to do this. It’s an enclosed, gate-protected place, there are staff people all over, and if you got lost, there was a sea of tie-dye-wearing grown-ups, any one of whom would ensure you got back home.

Challenge #1

Friday afternoon, after Ayla, her mom, and your mom arrived, we did the first challenge. You, Ayla, and I walked to Gate #5, which is the main entrance way from the parking lot into the area where the music is. It was a straight shot along the back of the parking lot from Gate #5 back to our camp.

Ayla said, “It will be easy to find our way home from here.”

“Yeah,” you said, “No problem.”

“You’re not supposed to say that!”

You both got it immediately.

“Oh, we think we can find our way home from here.”

So I turned you two loose, and off you went. I hung back to be sure I wasn’t in the way, and even took a detour so I got back to camp a little bit later.

“We got back without getting lost, Aby. Do we get $2 each?”

You sure did.

But it wasn’t the money that was making you and Ayla smile. Those were the smiles of confidence and autonomy. For one of the first times in your life, you and Ayla were going somewhere without a grown-up accompanying you. With your own smarts, sense of direction, and good sense to take care of you.

You had every reason to smile.

Camping out

You and Ayla set up Ayla’s tent in a little island between our family camp and the amphitheater. You decorated it, including a map of Strawberry hanging from the ceiling. You went to the arts and crafts area, and made a sign to hang at your camp:

Y’all never slept in the tent, but it was your place. A place you could go to get away from the grown-ups if you wanted to. More autonomy.

Challenge #2

We were all down at the music meadow. You guys were sitting in the wagon together, and I got to thinking that this was probably the last season that you’d both fit in it together.

I asked you both if you wanted to do another “Find My Way Home” challenge.

“Yes!”

“Okay. This will be a five dollar challenge. Make your way back to camp, and then come back here. Bring something back from camp to prove that you got there. Oh, and you have a 20-minute time limit.”

I thought it would be a good idea to have a time limit, mostly to encourage y’all not to wander around and get distracted.

Ten minutes later, I get a call from your dad.

“Um, I need to give Elena eye drops. But they say that the timer is running and they can’t stay to get eyedrops. Could we pause the timer?”

I laughed so hard. “Sure, we can pause the timer.”

I went somewhere, and when I came back, you and Ayla were in the cart again.

“Aby, you owe us $5!”

Since I’d gotten a call from your dad, I was pretty sure y’all had made it back to camp. I paid up immediately, and you immediately found uses for those $5 bills…

Raptor attention

Saturday morning, there was a raptor demonstration, including Roja the red-tailed hawk, at a little stage near the music meadow. You, Ayla, Rasta, Josie, and Ace all wanted to go to it.

Josie is 12, Rasta is 6, and everybody else is in between. Josie is an extremely responsible girl. I don’t remember how it all happened but the five of you set off to see Roja.

After a while, I looked around camp. There sat eight adults, having adult conversations.

“Wait. Do you realize what’s happening?”

“No kids,” giggled Josie’s mom.

Now Rasta, he’s six, and he can be a handful sometimes. There was some worry that he might be a couple of handfuls for you all. So I volunteered to wander down there and make sure everything was cool.

I quietly made my way up to the area where they were having the raptor show, saw what I needed to see, then slipped around to take a picture.

After the show was over, and you all had gotten up to get a closer look at Roja, I said you should probably head on home.

“Okay.”

And off you went. I hung back – I didn’t want you to feel like you were being followed.

But I stayed close enough to make sure that particularly Rasta didn’t go left when you went right. I was being silly…

You all ended up on the dirt path that follows the creek – a straight shot back to our camp. Rasta was hanging back, because he had six-year-old reasons you didn’t. Then I heard a girl’s voice from further ahead, “C’mon Rasta!”

And he did.

The biggest challenge

On Saturday afternoon, y’all told me you wanted one more big challenge.

“A big challenge?”

“Yeah.”

First, we walked down to the command post, where they had a big stack of camp maps. I wanted to be sure you had a map with you, because both of you are perfectly capable of using a map.

I explained the “Find My Way Home” challenge to the staffer there, and then we had a conversation.

“What if you get lost, I mean really lost?”

“We’ll find a worker person.”

“Okay, good first idea. And what will you ask them?”

Ayla: “How to get to the music meadow.”
Elena: “How to get to Gate #5.”

Your noggins had worked out that you couldn’t ask where your family’s camp was, but if you got to either the music meadow or Gate #5, you’d know the way home from there.

Excellent thinking, E-blast.

I walked you to the farthest reach of the campground I could find. So far that I made it a $7 challenge. And then I told you that you had to start off in a direction opposite from the way we had come.

“No time limit, okay Aby?”

“No time limit. Go see the campground.”

When I got back to camp, you found me pretty quickly.

“We didn’t get lost or anything.”

Of course, the next step will be to get lost on purpose – go somewhere that you have no idea where you are. My mom, Peggy, had a t-shirt that said,

“Not all who wander are lost.”

I expect you have some great wandering ahead of you, and if you get lost, well, you know how to find your way home.

Home

Autonomy means a lot of things. It means you can wander off if you want to. But we all have to recharge our batteries. And there’s no better place to recharge your batteries than your home base.

So get out there, and put that autonomy to use. See, learn, explore, investigate, and even occasionally get lost. But just be very sure of this: your parents, Ana, me, Uncle John, Grandmother – all the people who love you – will always be there to hear the stories, put bandages on the wounds, and help get the batteries recharged for the next challenge.