Friday, October 31, 2008

"Racist"

There is a convent in the inner city near our office that has been sending kids to camp for many years. The Sisters fundraise about $30,000 to send kids each summer. Camp welcomes about 40 campers each of the first three weeks of summer. With our enrollment as low as it is (some weeks had only 50 out of 155 beds filled), these kids make up a huge percent of campers during those first weeks.

The kids that come from the Sister's are wonderful, sweet kids. But they have had difficult lives. They live in a very poor, violent neighborhood. They have lost relatives to gang violence, have parents in prison, are keenly aware of drugs, prostitution and other terrible things going on all around them. It's tragic, and not fair and camp is a wonderful place for them to come and be carefree kids for a week each summer. Giving kids a life changing experience in an outdoor setting is the reason I work at camp. This is my whole career.

The Board loves to sit around and talk about what good work our camp does, particularly with these kids. They love to tell potential donors about the kids and they love to show smiling happy pictures of groups of campers playing together. They brag about the diversity of our camp and how everyone goes home as best friends. But it's not that simple. The first three weeks of camp are awful. There are nonstop problems in the cabins, staff are overwhelmed and stressed out, and parents complain like it's their job. In the Spring, I did a calling campaign to remind former campers to sign up before summer. At least 10 parents commented that they either weren't sending kids back because of a bad experience the year before, or that they would send their kids back, as long as I would tell them which weeks were the "special" weeks, so they could avoid them. After the first three weeks of camp this summer, I talked to at least a dozen more parents who said, "I'm not racist but, why didn't anyone tell me I signed my kid up during a special week?"

These calls infuriated me at first. How dare people be so racist?! But the more conversations I had, the more I started to understand parents. Our brochure and dvd show mostly white kids, and the other weeks of the summer, 99% of the kids are white suburban kids. So I can understand parents being surprised and a little annoyed that no one says anything about the difference in the first three weeks. And I can understand that when their campers come home and tell them that kids in their cabin were talking about drugs or gangs, suburban parents would be upset.

Camp is a healing place for kids and there were several instances this summer where kids opened up about issues in their lives that other kids, my staff and I couldn't even begin to relate to. How do you silence a kid who starts talking about a recently killed brother or jailed father? You don't. But then you take phone calls from parents who are angry because they don't want their kids exposed to that.

As I plan next summer, I am bound and determined to address this issue. No one wants to have the conversation because everyone is afraid of coming across as racist. But I'm going to have the conversation particularly because I'm not racist, but because I love kids and want this camp to work, and I am WELL aware that it's not, no matter how many times we congratulate ourselves for being so diverse.

"S" runs a local organization that focuses on urban issues and addressing issues relating to diversity. I had coffee with her last week to ask her for her opinion. The idea of separating Sister's kids into one closed week has been in my head, but I was terribly afraid of what people would think if I segregated camp. Within 2 minutes of the conversation, "S" summed it up and then for the next hour, we had the most empowering, exciting conversation I can remember having. She said, "this isn't a racial issue. You have a disproportionate number of traumatized children. Yes, the majority of them are minorities, don't deny that, but if you had a busload of minority children from the suburbs, you wouldn't have this problem. These are kids that witness violence and are not going to counseling afterwards. They are not average kids, they are deeply wounded kids. And you will always have problems when you try to mix traumatized kids with average kids and think they will all just blend." After she said that, we talked about the idea of separating them and during that week, bringing in some specialists to help facilitate break out sessions, healing conversations, and deal with issues. My staff are 20 year olds with little experience. I will never be able to get educated, professionals to come for a whole summer, earning $200/week, but I could get them for one week. Lots of camps separate out weeks for kids with illnesses, parents who are in the military, etc. Why not have a special week for these kids?

I spent the week feeling so excited. I started researching grants, and thinking about just what a huge difference we could make by being intentional with our focus. And then I had breakfast with Sister.

I knew it was going to be a tough sell. She has been sending kids to camp for a LONG time and change is never easy. I also knew she felt strongly about giving them a "normal" camp experience (wtf that means, I dunno...). But I was so excited and didn't know how she could argue with helping kids who need it.

1. Deny that they are any different than any kid and that they don't need help.
2. Claim (in the sweetest voice and calmest manner) that the Camp Director needs to develop tougher skin and learn to take criticism from parents, rather than trying to change things.
3. Claim (in said sweet manner) that the Camp Director is racist.
4. Explain to Camp Director that diversity is important and that by putting them all together in one week (rather than three weeks) that the diversity of camp will go down. When Camp Director agrees that diversity is important but points out that three token weeks doesn't really count as a "diverse camp", reiterate to Camp Director that diversity is important (pretending she didn't just say that back).
5. Tell Camp Director that her staff are not very well trained and need to be taught to listen to kids and facilitate difficult discussions.
6. Tell Camp Director camp is ABSOLUTELY NOT the place for any type of therapy.
7. Tell Camp Director that there are great problems in society when it comes to race and that camp needs to fight those battles.

Speechless.

1. "Traumatized" isn't me judging. I can tell you 8 specific stories of things campers told me about drugs, gangs, violent deaths, and lost parents. That doesn't include what my staff dealt with. These kids need help. Don't deny it.
2. I have thick skin, but when an issue comes up again and again, it's my responsibility to address it. In addition to trying to deal with this situation, I am also going to get a ladder for the dock and trail mix at the camp store. you know why? Because they were REOCCURRING comments and so I will respond. When parents tell me the same thing over and over again, I need to do something about it.
3. I'm not racist.
4. I want camp to be diverse too, but 3 weeks of diversity and then the rest of the summer with almost zero non-white campers isn't diverse.
5. My staff were awesome and very well trained. But they were also 20 years old, in their first or second year of higher education, and have never been traumatized. What exactly do you think I can do with them in 6 days of training to prepare them for a busload of traumatized children?
6. Camp is a great place for therapy because it's a healing peaceful place where kids feel safe and loved and able to open up and be themselves and share their feelings.
7. Yes. There are problems in society with race. But what are we accomplishing in 6 days of camp with untrained staff and unsuspecting kids? We are further alienating these groups because they walk away with a negative experience.

Towards the end of the conversation, she kindly suggested that maybe she should take her kids to a YMCA camp... Um, excuse me? Yes, that's what she said. She threatened me. She threatened me with $30,000. And me and my deficit-ed budget can't say a word about it. Because with $30,000, she calls the shots. I asked if she was considering the Y because they had a better suited program or because she disagreed with my suggestion (I used to work for the Y, I know what they have to offer). She sweetly explained that if I decided to make this change, it would be against her principles and she would have to pull her campers.

The end. There is absolutely no reasoning with that. There is no convincing her otherwise, because my whole argument is based on her kids needing something more and she flat out denies that they do, so there's nowhere for that argument to go.

I walked out feeling shocked, numb, powerless, defeated and frustrated. I'm the one who gets to deal with three weeks of camper issues, three weeks of staff stress, angry parent phone calls, and the knowledge that we have potential to do great work but we aren't. And on top of choosing not to help, our choice is actually the more difficult option, so it's sort of a double whammy.

I understand that money= power, but I still expected that good would be chosen over idleness. I don't know where to go from here, but I feel so completely deflated, I am not sure where to draw renewed motivation from.

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