Are the Kids All Right? Ask the Camp Directors.

Jack Spiro celebrated his elementary school graduation in 2020 from the back seat of his mother’s Toyota Highlander, as part of a drive-by ceremony. Then his first year in middle school, in Westchester, was mostly online. Whenever Jack, now 12,got a chance to attend class in person, his best friend, who has diabetes, was never there.

“The pandemic changed him,” said Carrie Spiro, his mother. “He was doing less physical activity; he was on his computer all the time; he was very angry and very sad.” When it came time to go to sleep-away camp this summer, Jack, who last went two summers ago, was filled with dread. He was terrified of getting Covid, of too much exercise, of both having to reconnect with old friends and making new ones, Ms. Spiro recalled. But his two older brothers were attending camp with him, and his mother urged him to give it a go.

The next week, as Ms. Spiro scrolled the media feed of Berkshire Hills Eisenberg Camp in Copake, N.Y., she came across a video of campers singing in the dining hall. “And there was Jack, standing on a table — the only one — just screaming and singing. I said, ‘Who is this person? This is not the same kid.’”

Overnight camps have been providing young people fortunate enough to attend with a sense of normalcy — an antidote to the isolation and virtual learning of the past 18 months — especially for apartment dwellers in New York. But while many campers like Jack have bounced back to play mode, others have struggled to rejoin the group dynamic and cheery normalcy of it all.

When Osei Roberts-Cline, 11, who lived with his parents and did remote school in a one-and-a-half-bedroom apartment in Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, all of last year, found himself surrounded by green meadows and group activities at Camp Hawkeye in New Hampshire this summer, he was a bit disoriented. “I kind of forgot how kids act, or what they did,” he said. “But then I went to camp, and I remembered.” After a pause, Osei continued. “But if I don’t stay around other kids, I’ll just forget again. And I don’t want to forget.”

It hasn’t been an easy summer for overnight camps. From supply chain breakdowns and staff shortages, to living with Covid-testing protocols and anxiety over the Delta variant, the hurdles faced by camp directors have been well reported across the country. But perhaps the most critical problem has been a noticeable increase in mental health struggles among campers and counselors. As schools start to reopen, camper experiences could help inform educational administrators and teachers, some camp directors say.

“Camps are the canary in the coal mine,” said Dr. Laura Blaisdell, a pediatrician and an unofficial medical adviser to the American Camp Association, a nonprofit serving more than 15,000 camps. “Schools need to be prepared for the physicality and emotionality that we’ve seen in camps.”

Andy Lilienthal, who is married to Dr. Blaisdell and is the director of Camp Winnebago in Fayette, Maine, has heard many campers express discomfort at having to live in close quarters with others after months of being alone. Other camp directors sent out official, honest letters early in the summer to make sure families were aware of the situation.

“I believe all energy is contagious, including homesickness,” wrote Jeffrey Gould, the owner of Independent Lake Camp in Thompson, Pa. “I’m not sure if it’s due to the kids spending so much time at home over the past 16 months, or a new more intense codependence with parents and/or technology or the comforts of home.” But he did notice a definite mood shift in many of his campers. While most got through it, he wrote, it took longer than normal.

Jessica Colgan-Snyder, assistant director of Camp Hawkeye, sent out a similar letter in early July. “We have been seeing and working with a lot more behavior issues and general stress and anxiety with our camper population,” she wrote. “We are hearing older campers expressing that it is difficult not to just be able to go in their rooms and get away from everything.”

Hawkeye had to send home more campers than usual, Ms. Colgan-Snyder said. “Camp has always been a place where participants can be themselves and let their guard down,” the letter said, “and for some people, they were not ready to take that on.”

Staff members, many of whom are teenagers or young adults, have also had a tough time. “There’s just been a lot more self-doubt, a lot of anxiousness,” said Sam Metzger, 29, the head activities specialist at Camp Winnebago. Mr. Metzger, who is in his eighth summer as a camp counselor, has tried to support his peers who have wanted to quit. “I try and challenge their thinking,” he said. “But it feels heavier this summer. And camp is meant to be fun.”

The American Camp Association plans to gather data on the emotional experiences of campers and camp staff this summer and will release its findings for schools and other organizations by late fall. “We’d be interested in seeing any research that might help us better serve our students,” the New York City Department of Education said in a statement upon hearing the news of the coming report.

But there is the flip side of the emotional ledger, too: Many young people have thrived at sleep-aways. When Feehan Tuttell of Raleigh, N.C., realized his month at Camp Hawkeye was coming to an end, he asked his family if he could stay longer. They couldn’t come up with the money, so the camp dipped into its scholarship fund. “I was just overwhelmed with joy when I heard I could stay,” Mr. Tuttell, 16, said. “Camp is a detox from all that technology and evil in the real world, and after lockdown, it meant everything.”

One joyous camp moment summed up the situation for Yasamin Bayley, who worked as a counselor this summer at Pocono Springs Camp in East Stroudsburg, Pa. “It was like week two or three, and there was a big color-war kind of thing, and everyone was just giving each other these celebratory hugs,” said Ms. Bayley, a recent college graduate who grew up in Westchester. “And I just realized that that hasn’t happened for me in a year and a half, of just being able to hug a big group of people,” she said.

“Being in this camp bubble, you almost forget what was going on outside. It was like a snap back into place.”