In the summer, I go canoeing with teenagers.

During trips that last from ten days to three weeks, I see no one other than teenagers.

We paddle. Get rained on. Make fires. Laugh until we cry. Sleep in tents. Paddle some more. Eat. Paddle. Fish. Paddle. Breathe in the clean air of the outdoors.

I leave the trips tan, bug-bitten, and completely refreshed. And, whether I like it or not, I get fully up-to-date on teenage slang, which often takes me weeks to shake, much to the chagrin of my wife.

For my friends who don’t spend all summer canoeing with teenagers, these enterprises are beyond explanation.

Aren’t teenagers annoying? Moody? Weird? Grumpy? Impulsive? Gross?

Teenage boys have a reputation.

Yes, adolescence brings about a lot of change. It is a period of learning and rapid growth. And swinging moods. And more.

Often, teens are not who non-teenagers want to spend their time hanging out with. My friends aren’t alone in questioning how I spend my summers.

My answer to the inevitable “Why on earth would you do something like that” questions?

Teenagers are awesome.

Or, at a more basic level, they are who we expect them to be.

Last month I traveled to LA to see some of our campers. One is a teenager. In the car on the way to a gathering, he was being a classic teen.

Napping. Opening and closing the window. Asking for food. A little benign complaining. Scrolling on his phone. Asking for food again.

So we got some tacos at a food truck (and they say money can’t buy happiness!).

After tacos, we arrived at the camp gathering. The campers went to play basketball and the adults chatted.

After 30 minutes, I could no longer resist the urge and I left the talking parents to go shoot hoops. (I thought I would grow out of that impulse at 20, and then 30. I am still waiting.)

On the driveway was a gaggle of ten kids playing basketball, all under 12, with our one teenager.

A shot clanked off the front rim and bounced into the street. Without thinking a little guy ran after it.

Before I could even speak, the teen stopped the running boy. “Wait up!”

A car rolled past on the neighborhood road.

“Now go ahead buddy.”

The kid got the ball from the other side of the street and play resumed.

Was this a big deal? Not really. The car was going maybe ten miles an hour. This wasn’t a near-miss out of a movie scene.

But it was beyond inspiring to see nonetheless.

I watched the game from the porch. Boys from nine to 15 played together, passing the ball and laughing.

What people often forget about teenagers is that they are capable of an awful lot.

At camp, all high-schoolers get the same message on the first night of camp. They know how things go at Chippewa. They aren’t the new, homesick boys anymore. Now, they have some new responsibilities. Set the culture. Lead by example. Watch out for the little guys.

The amazing thing? They do it.

Giving the little guys a piggy-back down to the Ivy Bowl. Making sure the new guy who hasn’t made a bunch of friends yet has a buddy for free swim. Cleaning up the mess when a youngster spills their food.

And my favorite act of unteenagerliness? It happens at Scatterball, the whole-camp, free-for-all dodgeball game. Only one person can win, and it is a massive deal. The whole camp erupts in cheering and storms the winner. Usually there is the customary hoisting up into the air. Then the chants of “Lake! Lake! Lake!” start, and the winner kicks off their shoes and runs across the sandy beach and leaps into Cass Lake in a celebratory splash.

Teens are better than kids under ten at throwing, running, and dodging. In an every-man-for-himself competition, a couple of years make a lot of difference. But every time a little guy is one of the final participants standing, something changes. There’s a glimmer of recognition. The teen will fail to dodge the little guy’s slow-moving throw and get hit on the leg. The little guy wins, and gets hoisted into the air. He is the adoration of the whole camp.

The little guy is beaming. It is pure, inimitable joy. And the teenager is out of the spotlight. Look at him, and you’ll see he’s as excited as he’s even been about losing. He’s cheering on the little guy who beat him, all while basking in the amazing feeling that comes from doing something nice for someone else.

It is a very CW moment. A little guy gets to make a lifelong memory.* A teen gets a lesson in the intrinsic value of putting others first.** For me? I get reminded that teenagers are awesome, especially when we expect them to be.

*I won Scatterball when I was nine, back in 2003. It was incredible.

**I was not good at Scatterball when I was nine. Not at all.

Onward,

Sam
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