For two weeks at Camp Simcha every summer, campers aren’t kids with cancer or kids with cerebral palsy. They’re just kids.
The nationalist anthem my kids sing at camp makes me uneasy. But I grew up reciting a jingoistic pledge, and I turned out OK.
While kids play ball, swap clothes, and steal their first kisses, they also learn about community, identity, and being a mensch
There’s a website for that
What adults whose kids have purported psychic powers, from soulful Crystal Children to fiery Indigo Children, might say