A camper falls out of a canoe.

He surfaces, sputtering. Startled. Embarrassed. A few kids laugh.

Before he can fully process what just happened, three adults are already moving.

“Are you OK?”

“Do you want to get out?”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to try again.”

He nods. He steps onto the dock and wraps himself in a towel.

The moment is over. It was safe. It was controlled. And for the moment it is resolved.

But something else ended too: an opportunity, not for success but for building character.

We are living in a moment where safety has become sacred, and it should be. Camps carry enormous responsibility. Physical safety is nonnegotiable. Emotional safety is foundational. Background checks, accreditation standards, supervision ratios, emergency action plans — all of these exist for a reason. Families trust us with what is most precious to them.

But somewhere along the way, many of us began confusing safety with the elimination of discomfort.

And character cannot form without discomfort.

Character is built in the space between struggle and rescue. If we remove the struggle, we remove the formation.

That does not mean abandoning campers to flounder. It means resisting the instinct to overcorrect when growth is underway.

What We Actually Mean by Character

Character is one of those words everyone agrees on, and few define clearly.

Character is not compliance, silence, or perfect behavior in front of adults. Character is the internal compass that guides decisions when no one is watching. It is resilience when something feels hard. Integrity when telling the truth costs something. Empathy when someone else’s discomfort interrupts our own comfort. Courage when stepping forward feels risky. Accountability when repair is required.

Angela Duckworth’s research on grit emphasizes sustained effort toward long-term goals (2016). Carol Dweck’s work on growth mindset reinforces the fact that ability expands through challenge and feedback (2006). Developmental science consistently shows that autonomy, problem-solving, and manageable risk are essential for healthy development.

The American Camp Association’s Youth Outcomes Battery research further reinforces camp’s impact (2016). National findings show measurable growth in independence, positive identity, friendship skills, and willingness to try new things among campers. In longitudinal follow-ups, many participants report that camp experiences influenced their confidence and social competence years later.

Independence is not built through protection. It is built through practice. Camp remains one of the few environments intentionally designed for that practice.

The Rise of Risk-averse Adults

Here is the tension: We say we want resilient young people and confident leaders. We say we want youth who can handle adversity. But many adults, myself included, struggle to watch adversity unfold in real time.

I’ve stepped in too quickly, mediated conflicts that needed more time, and shortened uncomfortable silences. I’ve offered solutions before young people were finished thinking. And every time, it felt like care. But sometimes it was control.

When adults rush to rescue, we unintentionally send a subtle message: “You can’t handle this.” Even when what we mean is “I care about you deeply.”

The difference between unsafe and uncomfortable matters.

Uncomfortable is navigating a disagreement with a cabinmate. Unsafe is emotional or physical harm. Uncomfortable is missing the target repeatedly. Unsafe is defective equipment. Uncomfortable is homesickness on day three. Unsafe is abandonment.

Character grows in discomfort, not in danger. If we eliminate all discomfort, we may create temporary calm — but we also risk creating long-term fragility.

A Second Moment: Public Recovery

A 14-year-old camper volunteers to lead a group activity. Halfway through explaining the instructions, she stumbles over her words. A few peers whisper. She hesitates. Her counselor instinctively steps forward, ready to jump in and rescue the moment. But instead, the counselor waits.

The camper takes a breath. “Sorry, let me try that again.” And she finishes.

That pause, that breath, the restart — that was character forming. Not because she performed perfectly. Because she recovered publicly. Recovery builds confidence more than perfection ever will.

A Third Moment: Conflict in the Cabin

Two campers argue over a bunk space. Voices rise. One storms out.

A counselor approaches. The temptation is immediate arbitration. Assign bunks. End it. Restore order. Instead, the counselor gathers both campers and asks: “What happened?” “How did that feel?” “What do you need to repair this?”

The conversation is awkward. Uneven. Emotional. But by the end, one camper says quietly, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Repair begins. That moment was not efficient; it was formative.

Designing for Formation

Character development does not happen accidentally. It must be embedded in systems, language, and staff training.

1. Normalize Struggle

Struggle should be expected; it should not be treated as failure.

When campers say, “This is hard,” adults can respond with:

  • “What part feels hardest?” 
  • “What’s your next step?” 
  • “Do you want support or space?”

Even end-of-day reflections can shift culture:

  • What challenged you today?
  • When did you try again? 
  • What mistake helped you grow?

Without reflection, challenge is just activity. With reflection, challenge becomes formative.

2. Train Staff to Tolerate Discomfort

Staff training should include a critical distinction: are we solving for safety, or are we solving for our own discomfort?

Young counselors often feel pressure to maintain visible control. They fear that conflict equals failure. They equate smoothness with success. But development is rarely smooth. Teaching staff to pause before intervening can be transformative.

Before stepping in, ask: “Is anyone unsafe? Is this developmentally appropriate? Is this a growth opportunity?”

If no one is unsafe, and the situation falls within healthy boundaries, observation may be more powerful than interruption.

Silence can be constructive.

3. Model Repair Publicly

Character is transmitted through modeling.

When counselors say, “I handled that poorly, I’m sorry,” integrity becomes visible.

When directors acknowledge mistakes, accountability becomes normalized.

Repair teaches us that mistakes are not identity. They are moments. And moments can be repaired.

If we want campers to practice accountability, they must see it embodied.

4. Reintroduce Managed Risk

Risk is not recklessness. Risk is exposure to uncertainty with support nearby.

For campers, risk at camp might look like:

  • Climbing higher than you think you can
  • Performing in front of peers
  • Leading a discussion
  • Trying a new social group
  • Staying despite homesickness

Without uncertainty, there is no courage. Without risk, there is no resilience. Managed risk builds the internal narrative: I can do hard things.

5. Shift from Control to Responsibility

Character deepens when campers feel ownership. Rotate leadership roles. Invite your campers into decision-making. Allow natural consequences when appropriate. And above all, encourage peer mediation.

Instead of solving, ask: 

  • “What do you think is fair?”
  • “How can we repair this?”
  • “What responsibility can you take?”

Responsibility strengthens integrity.

Addressing the Counterargument

Some may argue that today’s youth face unprecedented stress, academic pressure, social media scrutiny, and global instability. Should camp really add more challenge?

The answer is not to add more pressure. The answer is to offer protected rehearsal space. Camp is uniquely positioned to provide what developmental psychologists call “optimal challenge” experiences that stretch but do not overwhelm. We are not manufacturing hardship. We are allowing manageable difficulty to become a teacher.

In a world where many young people experience performance pressure but little autonomy, camp can rebalance the equation.

Whose Character Are We Building?

If character is defined only by who thrives comfortably in our systems, then we are not building character. We are building conformity. Character must not be coded language for:

  • “Act like the majority.”
  • “Be quiet.”
  • “Don’t disrupt.”

A neurodivergent camper who avoids eye contact is not lacking integrity. A camper who questions instructions may be practicing critical thinking. A quiet camper may demonstrate leadership through steadiness.

Cultural expression varies. Emotional expression varies. So do leadership styles. If compliance becomes our metric, we risk mistaking control for character. Inclusive character formation requires psychological safety.

A camper cannot practice bravery if they fear humiliation. They cannot practice empathy if they feel excluded. They cannot practice accountability if mistakes are met with shame.

Restorative practices like asking “Who was impacted?” and “How can we repair this?” preserve dignity while reinforcing responsibility.

Belonging is not separate from character. Belonging is the soil in which character grows.

The Long View

Camp is a short window in a long life. We may never see the full impact of the moments we allow to unfold — the camper who returned to the canoe, the teen who restarted her explanation, the child who repaired a conflict, or the counselor who modeled apology.

Neuroscience reminds us that repeated behaviors strengthen neural pathways. Repeated experiences of challenge and reflection strengthen resilience. Repeated opportunities to repair strengthen integrity.

Years from now, campers may not remember the schedule. They may forget the menu or who won color wars. But they probably will remember the moment they:

  • Tried again
  • Were trusted
  • Were not rescued too quickly
  • Were braver than they thought

We can’t promise parents that their children will never struggle. We can promise that struggle will not be shamed, failure will not be final, repair will be modeled — and belonging will be protected.

Character at camp is not built because everything goes right but because we allow things to go wrong in a safe space and then stay present. In a world increasingly engineered to eliminate discomfort, that may be one of the most countercultural things we do. And it may be one of the most important.

Photos courtesy of Alford Lake Camp, Hope, ME.

References

American Camp Association. (2016). Youth Outcomes Battery Norms.

Duckworth, A. (2016). Grit: The power of passion and perseverance. New York, NY: Scribner.

Dweck, C. S. (2006). Mindset: The new psychology of success. New York, NY: Random House.

Michael Garcia has worked in youth development for more than 30 years across day camps, overnight camps, aquatics, after-school programs, and community-based organizations. He currently serves in executive leadership within the YMCA movement and is a national speaker focused on mentorship, staff development, and risk-positive youth programming. He is the author of Becoming a Modern Mentor: Developing Youth Leaders, a guide for supervisors working with today’s emerging generation of staff. His writing centers on building environments where young people are safe to try, safe to fail, and trusted to grow. Michael volunteers with the American Camp Association as an accreditation visitor and standards instructor and continues to advocate for character development through autonomy, belonging, and managed risk.

The views and opinions expressed by contributors are their own and do not necessarily reflect the views of the American Camp Association or ACA employees.