One Way to Become a Quaker

What do you do with a boy? When he’s two you can cheer when he balances on top of a big rock, and laugh when he rolls down a big grassy slope. Then at age four, you can stare appreciatively at an insect specimen as he emphasizes how dangerous it is. Rocks can be put into a grinder to be polished: it takes two to find good specimens.

At six, you run alongside him as he wobbles on his bike and pretend patience as he uses your fine arts brushes to paint a wooden truck. Then you can instruct him on the piano (not successful), play percussion in a rock band while he strums the guitar (also not successful). You’re running out of ideas. Yet you have a dog. When you’re tired and out of ideas, the dog is always game.

I’m a grandmother. Mom and Dad do all the important things. I’m his playmate, security blanket and doting caretaker. I’m also a Quaker. At Meeting, not much was happening for a soon-to-be 8-year-old. Meeting was trying but nothing yet. The result was that he lay under the chairs on the floor, sometimes crawled around, and stayed quiet.

Four years ago, my son considered renting a cabin off season at Ben Lomond Quaker Center located in the Santa Cruz Mountains. After mulling over the website, we realized we would like to give Family Work Camp a try. The description of a retreat center that offers programs that focus on Quakerism, spirituality, and social justice sounded great. When I found out our Meeting offers financial support for this type of activity, my son, myself, and my grandson signed up.

The world was emerging from the pandemic. Not too many people attended, and no other children even close to the age of my grandson. “Nope,” was the answer when we asked, “but you’re going to have a wonderful time anyway.” And so, we did.

We all signed up for work groups with the warning that families have to split up. All the activities were outdoors: pruning, chopping, cleaning, building. My 8-year-old signed up to help build a new trail because they needed someone good in mathematics. An elder approached us and said he would keep an eye on him. My grandson became the errand boy who ran up and down the trail bringing things for the builders. “Did great” was the elder’s report at lunch.

There were a lot of different activities in the afternoon but also a lot of free time. He found an employee who had a dog and guess where he loved to be. He felt free from strict supervision, and played all over the campgrounds. His father and I, at first apprehensive at all this freedom, were reassured that all attendees are around and aware, and he will be safe.

“I’m a Quaker!” Nico yelled at the end of his first summer. After our third year, we see a boy building resilience, independence and perseverance. All three of us have benefited from the love, friendship, purposeful activity and freedom to enjoy nature in the beautiful Santa Cruz Mountains. We are returning to Ben Lomond again for our fourth year.

Marge Gianelli lives in San Diego and is a member of La Jolla Monthly Meeting. She a member of the Western Friend board.