Walk with me.
It’s 10:30 AM Friday, the last day of [Session 2], and I’m strolling through what can only be described as creative mayhem.
To my left, three campers are acting as human slot machine reels. A fourth pulls an imaginary lever and shouts “Apple, apple, banana!” No jackpot this time, but the crowd cheers anyway.
Straight ahead, the youngest campers have built a water gun station, almost like a Whack-a-mole game, where they pop up from behind cardboard barriers to get sprayed instead of walloped with mallets. It’s all giggles.
At the TC Trivia booth, a confident 12-year-old is stumping visitors with questions about camp history. Thankfully (and unsurprisingly) I get them all right.
The camp nurses have made a giant Operation game complete with oversized tweezers and a buzzer that actually works. Their “patient” appears to be surviving the “surgery”.
And over by the officedining hall, the oldest campers are running the Prize Booth where kids cash in tickets earned from other games for everything from fidgets to coveted Twin Creeks pom-pom hats.
Music is playing. Kids are laughing. It’s all energy.
None of this existed two weeks ago.
This is Camp Carnival.
What You’re Actually Looking At
This isn’t some dunk tank and ring toss setup that rolled off a truck this morning. Every single booth you see was designed and built from scratch by the campers themselves over the past two weeks.
Each cabin is tasked with creating one carnival game. Not choosing from a pre-made list, not assembling a kit, but actually conceiving, planning, and constructing something entirely their own.
The DIY skee-ball game? Built entirely from wood by kids. ”
Knock Down the Penguin”? Campers created their own penguin cutouts and figured out the perfect tin can configuration.
The Photo Booth with its patriotic backdrop? Completely designed and decorated by a cabin all-in on Fourth of July.
Many camps would (understandably) buy the games, rent some equipment, maybe put up an inflatable attraction or two. But that’s not how we roll. This is 100% homemade, 100% kid-driven, and 100% theirs.
It’s rustic and chaotic. That’s exactly the point.
What I’m looking at is what happens when kids are given real ownership over something that matters to them. When they are trusted to not just follow directions, but to create the direction themselves.
How Carnival Happens
Here’s the timeline that makes this possible: Day 1, we introduce Carnival during cabin rotations. Each cabin gets the challenge: create one booth for the whole camp to enjoy.
Early in the week, every cabin submits three booth ideas. Amy and Lisa review them all and choose one per cabin to move forward.
This is Amy’s expertise, her deep understanding and full-fledged belief in what kids can accomplish when you trust them. The plan should be about creativity and feasibility while making sure it contributes to the community (and looks like fun too!).
Then comes the planning. Kids fill out forms with their goals, supply needs, and booth diagrams. They figure out what they can make, what they need us to buy, and how their booth will actually work.
Amy and Lisa coordinate supplies, assign building tasks to Arts & Crafts, and give cabins dedicated time blocks to construct their games. Some cabins need more guidance, others barely need anything at all.
By mid-session, you’ll see kids scattered around camp with cardboard, paint, and wild ambitions.
For instance, the “Claw + Apple Game” started as a request for apple-bobbing. After some thoughtful conversation with Amy, it evolved into something involving claws, blindfolds, and greased apples.
The morning of Carnival, representatives from each cabin gather under the Big Tree to introduce their booths. There’s some salesmanship here for sure. Then the gates open, kids run their own stations, and for 90 minutes, camp becomes entirely theirs.
I honestly don’t give it a second thought at 9 AM if it’s all going to come together.
Amy, Lisa and the campers always make it work. It always does. That’s the trust piece again.
The Bigger Picture
This is what happens when you trust kids with real responsibility.
Not pretend responsibility, not “help the adults” responsibility, but genuine ownership over something that matters.
Carnival says everything you need to know about what Twin Creeks believes when it comes to a kid’s capabilities. Give kids agency + clear boundaries + support and they create something far more meaningful than anything we could ever buy or rent.
And then the memory they take home isn’t some flashy entertainment or professional-grade attraction. It’s about their booth, the problems they solved, the teamwork they navigated, and the pride they felt when other kids lined up to play their game.
Oh, and probably most importantly, the belief that they can do it again.
If your child took part in Carnival, make sure to ask them about their booth. Ask what they built, what might have been challenging, and how it call came together.
You might be amazed by what they accomplished when someone simply trusted them to try.
Best wishes,
Iain
