Reflections on Coming of Age for Boys from Owen & Amy

Read as Coming of Age for Boys participant Owen and mom Amy reflect on their experiences with the program this past summer:

Owen (14):

Rites of Passage Journeys changed my look on life. I am now able to walk through life with a confidence I never had before. Journeys has provided me with the different perspective on life that only nature can. I have not only gained strength mentally and physically, but have made many close bonds along the way. I have learned to be part of a team — where everyone’s effort is necessary for the group’s success.

Journeys was a pleasant escape from all the stress that normal life holds. For once in my life, I was able to forget about playing videogames, being cool, checking my email, or watching TV. I was at total peace with myself — out there in the wilderness with my friends and the animals. Most importantly, I learned what it means to be a man. Being a man doesn’t mean having a family, driving fast cars, or owning a big house. To be a man is to know not who you want to be, but to know who you ARE, and to accept the person you are. Rite of Passage Journeys helped me to discover who I really am.

Amy:

Serendipity, providence, happenstance?  Call it what you will, but my initial connection to Rites of Passage Journeys was an accidental one. I stumbled upon your website one evening while googling rites of passage ideas for my then 13 year-old boy. While he’s had some incredible experiences and opportunities, he was also suffering from some modern plagues (divorce, new parents, too many electronic screens, middle school) and I had the distinct feeling that something was missing. That for whatever reason my beloved boy was “failing” to grow up, and his launch into the teenage years had been a lukewarm, ho-hum, non-event.

I must have visited the Journeys’ website a dozen times before I got the nerve to share it with the rest of the family. “Hey, I’m thinking about sending Owen 700 miles away with some strangers from the internet for 3 weeks this summer” seemed a little nutty, if not downright dangerous. I literally had ZERO connection to Journeys, or to anyone even peripherally involved. However, I just knew, deep down, that it was the answer to the question I had been asking:  “What does my child need?”

The “strangers” — Amanda, the director, and Cameron, the office manager — patiently and thoroughly responded to all of my emails and calls, and directed me to other resources to help answer my questions and alleviate my fears and guide me to an understanding of the safety and integrity of the program. After a few family meetings, we were all on board, and the preparation and anticipation began.

Besides the actual backpacking trips, there are so many other critical pieces to the “journey” — from getting ready, the send-off event, the reincorporation day, and the days that follow. The ritual and the process were the most meaningful to me. It was not only Owen’s rite of passage, but mine as well. The send-off ceremony, where our bond was symbolically cut, kind-of cracked something open in my head and heart.  In that moment, I caught a glimpse into the future, and saw a time where we are apart more than together. The feeling of trusting that he will be ok on his own, that the man he will be is more than capable, was astonishing. To be reintroduced to him as a youth and no longer a child at the reincorporation day was extraordinary! He looked taller and stronger and thinner, sure, but what was going on in that noggin of his??? How had he changed?

I don’t mean to say that he came home a “different” kiddo, or that I took the time apart to hit reset and become a perfect mother.  Instead, the time apart seemed to help us both become more of our old selves — or maybe I mean our “real” selves, our authentic selves.  It felt like we had gotten back a deep connection with one another that had been damaged from the busy messiness of growing up so far.  He’s more like that little kid from years ago: Owen, B.H. (before hormones!).  He was and continues to be somehow simultaneously more mature and more childlike at the same time.  I think that’s the wilderness influence.   I am so grateful to the mentors, Chris, Lonny and Darren, for taking him under their wings, and showing him how beautiful the natural world is. Just yesterday, he asked me to get up and put my coffee down to watch the sunrise!

Since his Journey, I see in my son a quieter self confidence, a rising level of self-esteem and a stick-to-itiveness attitude that is remarkably altered. I am much more conscious of our changing relationship and mindful of my role as well.  

Rites of Passage Journeys altered our family in a profound way. Though the actual trip grows further away each day, we find ourselves using it as a benchmark or a touchstone to bring us back to the family we all committed to being — and for Owen, as a reminder to follow those intentions he set forth during his solo at the beach.  Having such a strong and significant point like the Rites of Passage Journeys experience to return to AND move forward from when life with a teenager gets unpleasant (that’s putting it mildly!) is a godsend. The transformations that have occurred through our work with Journeys are remarkable. I count my lucky stars that we discovered Journeys and committed to making a difference.

Up for the Sunrise (The Journey Continues)

(The Journey Continues is our 1-week high school aged trip)

After some days in the wilderness, priorities and pleasures will have shifted from normal day-to-day life. That must be part of the explanation for why a group of teenagers and their two leaders would agree to get up at five in the morning and hike through the chill to watch the sunrise from a mountaintop.

It was our last morning together. I was pleasantly surprised that everyone was up for such an adventure after all the uphill hiking we’d just done. But off we went through the slowly brightening dawn up to the summit of Blue Mountain, in the NE Olympics, and found an eastward-looking viewpoint that was sheltered from the bitterly cold wind. It was a clear morning but for some haze hanging in the Puget Basin in front of us. Our timing was perfect. After sitting quietly together for about ten minutes, all of a sudden a brightness emerged through the haze, a startling pink. As it rose and grew, it outlined the ridgeline of the Cascades, previously invisible in the hazy sky. It was one of the most interesting sunrises I’ve seen, and we all sat ooh-ing and ahh-ing for a while before getting up to take some pictures.

 

As I reflect on this experience, I wonder: what were we saying, with our bodies and souls, when we chose to hike up there to watch the sunrise? The sunrise is yet another thing usually taken for granted, rarely given much consideration. But to all of us it seemed the fitting thing to do. Watching the sunrise gives me a sense of looking into the future, into possibilities. I often have an instinct to see it when some transition or transformation has been afoot, when things feel new and fresh. And even moreso, to see it from the peak of a mountain gives a sense of incredible expansiveness. On our last day together, as we looked ahead to life back home, the sunrise lent us a sense of fullness, completion, and a window into what was coming next.

In a way, it’s reassuring to know that there’s such a rich experience to be had in simply taking in this basic (though from another perspective, miraculous) everyday occurrence. So I suppose that one thing we were saying was that we wanted to show up for the simple but dramatic events woven into our days and really take them in. That we wanted to seize the moment and come away with a unique memory and story to tell. What else is there? 

Submitted by Cameron Withey, trip leader