Parashat Sh’lach: Friday, June 12, 2026 (Staff Week 2)

Parashat Sh’lach

Shabbat shalom, everyone.

We are standing right at the edge.

Leadership week is behind us. Staff week is almost behind us. The bags, buses, hugs, nervous smiles, first-day questions, and full-speed reality of camp are right in front of us.

Which makes this week’s parsha almost too perfect. Sh’lach is the story of the spies.

Moses sends twelve scouts into the land of Israel. They go in, they look around, and they come back with a report. They say the land is good. It flows with milk and honey. They even bring back enormous grapes.

So far, great. Big fruit. Strong start.

But then ten of the scouts say, “There are giants there. We looked like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and so we must have looked to them.”

That sentence is devastating.

Not, “There are challenges.”

Not, “We need a plan.”

Not, “This will require courage.”

They say, “We looked like grasshoppers in our own eyes.”

Before anyone else defeats them, their own story defeats them.

Only Joshua and Caleb tell a different story. They do not deny the giants. They do not pretend the land will be easy. They simply say, “We can do this.”

Same land. Same facts. Different story.

That is the leadership lesson we need before the busses pull in and the campers arrive.

Because staff set the story.

Campers will arrive with every possible emotion. Some will be exploding with excitement. Some will be quiet and terrified. Some will act confident and then melt down at bedtime. Some will test boundaries because they are trying to figure out if this place is safe. Some will be returning campers who think they already know everything. Some will be new campers trying to decode a whole world of songs, traditions, names, paths, and inside jokes.

They are about to enter the land.

And they will look to us to understand the story.

If our story is, “This is chaotic,” they will feel chaos.

If our story is, “This cabin is going to be a problem,” they will feel labeled before they are known.

If our story is, “Day one at Camp day is overwhelming and everyone is in the way,” they will feel like burdens.

But if our story is, “This is big, and we are ready,” that changes the air.

If our story is, “Every camper who arrives today is someone we get to welcome,” that changes the air.

If our story is, “There will be giants, and we can do this,” that changes the air.

The scouts teach us that facts matter, but framing matters too.

We should be honest. There will be hard moments. There will be homesickness. There will be friendship conflict. There will be staff fatigue. There will be a cabin that needs more support than expected. There will be rain at the worst possible time. There will be a camper who loses something that is somehow both labeled and impossible to find.

We are not pretending there are no giants.

We are choosing not to become grasshoppers in our own eyes.

That is a huge difference.

One of the most important things staff do is lend campers our confidence before they have their own.

A camper says, “I can’t do this.”

A good staff member does not lie and say, “This is easy.”

A good staff member says, “This is hard, and I am with you.”

A camper says, “I don’t know anyone.”

A good staff member says, “Not yet. Let’s start with one person.”

A staff member says, “I messed up.”

A good leader says, “Own it, repair it, learn from it. You are still in this.”

That is Joshua and Caleb energy. Not denial. Courage.

Sh’lach is also the parsha of tzitzit, the fringes on the corners of a garment. Torah says they are there so we will look at them and remember who we are and what we are responsible for.

That is a beautiful image for staff.

We all need reminders on the edges of our lives. Something that pulls us back when stress takes over. Something that says: Remember who you are. Remember why you are here. Remember what this place is supposed to feel like for a child.

For some of us, that reminder might be a phrase. “Lead with love.” “Slow down.” “See the kid first.” “Be the calm in the room.” “This is their childhood.”

That last one is worth holding.

This is their childhood.

For us, it may be a workday. For them, it may become a memory they carry for the rest of their lives.

That does not mean every second has to be magical. That would be impossible and exhausting. But it does mean our posture matters. Our words matter. Our story matters.

So before the campers arrive, let’s choose our story.

We are not grasshoppers.

The campers are not problems to manage. They are souls to welcome.

The hard moments are not proof that we are failing. They are places where leadership is needed.

The giants are real. And we can do this.

May we enter this summer with Joshua and Caleb courage. May we tell a story big enough for honesty and hope. May we help every camper see themselves not as small, not as lost, not as a problem, but as someone who belongs in the promised land of this camp community.

Shabbat shalom Camp. – Ari Domnitz