Shabbat Shalom from Pembroke!
From the Outside Looking In by Rachel Glincher (CA 2004)
As a 36-year-old mom with two young kids, a full-time job surrounded by children, and a parent with medical needs, you’d think I’d use a vacation day for rest — maybe a spa, a nap, or some peace and quiet.
Instead, on June 25th, I took a 4:30 a.m. Uber to White Plains… to ride a bus full of campers I didn’t know to a place I hadn’t spent a summer in 17 years.
People were understandably confused. “Why?” they asked. And honestly… I wasn’t sure.
But the moment I stepped onto that bus and heard the laughter echoing from the back rows, I knew exactly why I was there. My soul lit up in a way no beach or massage could ever deliver.
There it was: the sound of pure joy on I-95. Girls playing MASH, teaching each other how to make string bracelets, guessing color war break ideas, and hyping each other up — and camp hadn’t even started yet. First-time campers buzzing with nervous excitement. Returning campers sharing tips and memories. And staff at camp, grinning ear to ear, sweat-soaked and unbothered by the heat as the bus pulled up, lugging duffels twice their size just to get the summer started.
(And parents… seriously, what is in those duffel bags?)
When I arrived, I couldn’t get enough. The spirit, the energy, the magic — it was everywhere. I’d completed my CORI check and training, I couldn’t let that go to waste: I begged Becca and Amy to let me return with my son to soak up a day at camp and take a walk down memory lane today.
And what I saw? Honestly, from the outside… it’s even more magical than I remembered from the inside. Walking back into the Dining Hall- with a hug from a camper I met on the bus- the words flying out of the magic of her summer so far!
Hair unbrushed. Pajamas still on. Piggyback rides down the road. Girls mastering their first one-handed cartwheel. The thrill of being cast in the camp play. Laughter at the athletic bleachers. Hugs for no reason. The fun they’ve had — the confidence they’re building — the magic they’re creating together.
As a camper, Camp Pembroke was everything. Eight weeks (later seven) that fueled me for the rest of the year. As a counselor, it was the hardest job I’ve ever had — exhausting and beautiful all at once.
And now, as a parent, it’s a whole new kind of magic. Watching these children thrive in a world that values joy, empathy, connection, and being completely and unapologetically yourself… it’s nothing short of extraordinary.
These kids are unplugged from the noise and plugged into life. They’re choosing conversation over screens, sisterhood over social media, nature over notifications. What a rare, remarkable gift.
So much of what I needed to know and survive in life, professionally, and personally- I learned at camp. Not just the little things- like how to change out of a bathing suit in a public place without showing a speck of skin- but how to truly share, not just items, but parts of yourself. How to play kind- in the deepest sense of the way- to truly feel empathy and emotion with those you love and care about. How a little bit of energy and cheer and good spirits goes so far. A song to distract, a hug to lift one up. If we could all only live each day as if we were in camp what a magical place this world would become.
If we all lived a little more like we were at camp, the world would be a far more wonderful place.
And in the midst of all this joy, we know that life outside of camp is not always this light. The tragedy at Camp Mystic this week has broken hearts across the camp world. We grieve with families we don’t know and hold tighter to the gift we have here.
To the parents reading this: thank you. Thank you for sharing your most precious gifts with camp. Thank you for giving your children the chance to grow, connect, laugh deeply, sing loudly, and love fiercely.
You may not see the magic every day, but trust — it’s here. In every muddy sneaker. Every bunk night giggle. Every dedication in the dining hall.
What you’ve given your child isn’t just a summer away.
You’ve given them resilience.
You’ve given them community.
You’ve given them joy.
You’ve given them belonging.
And from the outside, looking in — I see it so clearly.
Camp Pembroke works in ways that are impossible to explain, and undeniable to feel.
And the best part? The magic doesn’t stay at camp. It comes home with them. It lives in them. It’s lived in me for the last 28 years.
Forever grateful for this place,
Forever in awe of what it creates,
Forever Pembroke.
Love,
Rachel Glincher (CA 2004)
