Kiwanis Camp

Hi everyone.
I've heard from a few of my Kiwanis Camp friends that a great article about the camp was coming soon, and sure enough, it was in the Thursday Oregonian .

The link to the Oregonian's site where you can read the story is here.

The link is only temporary, as stories fall off of the Oregonian site in a few days to become archives you must pay to read.

So, I have posted the article before it disappears to share it with you.

Most people who know me have heard my glowing reviews of Kiwanis Camp. When I first went in 2003 as a Portland State undergraduate, it solidified my desire to work with people with disabilities as a counselor.

And here I am.

I was blessed to get to go this summer as a supervisor.

My descriptions of the camp don't do it justice.

This article comes close.

It has been my wish that everyone go and be touched by this amazing place and the campers that make it so very special.

I have mentioned to administrators, teachers, and mental health professionals that volunteering at the camp should be a requirement for anyone interested in entering a helping profession.

It inevitably will change they way professionals teach, counsel, parent, and see the world.

Here is the article.


Finding success on the mountain
Disabled campers and their counselors find challenge and fulfillment in working and playing hard at Mount Hood retreat
Thursday, August 24, 2006
ABBY HAIGHT
The Oregonian

MOUNT HOOD -- Everything about Paul Dechaine's body
language said, "No way."

It was the last chance the 38-year-old from Tualatin would have to climb the rock wall at the Mount Hood Kiwanis Camp. Friends urged him on, and several counselors pleaded.

His jaw set, Dechaine looked away from the towering wall with its colorful handholds, away from course leader Thomas Hackett, who rested on his rope 20 feet up and called, "You can do it, Paul."

For 48 years, the Mount Hood Kiwanis Camp has opened the wilderness to people with disabilities, offering traditional camp experiences and providing a safe and encouraging environment for campers to push beyond physical or developmental barriers.

Micah Watkins, 24, was ready to take a risk.

Counselors secured the climbing harness around Watkins' slim torso. Then Hackett began lowering himself to the ground, his weight lifting Watkins out of his wheelchair by the rope that connected the two men. Watkins rose slowly, cheers and applause growing louder as he neared the upper reach of the wall.

Watkins spun gently in the air, smiling.

Dechaine was caught by the excitement. He cheered his friend, then pulled a climbing helmet over his thick hair. Fear melted into resolve.

"I'll go halfway," he said.

Hackett guided Dechaine up the wall, helping him find toe holds. It was hard, physical work. Sometimes the fear grew strong and Dechaine clung to the wall. But then he reached up again, pulled himself higher. Ten feet. Fifteen feet.

Joanna Stanley watched with an awed smile.

Stanley is a 27-year-old art history and painting major at Portland State University. Like all PSU students, she must complete the six-credit senior Capstone program before graduating. At its core, Capstone encourages students to a greater understanding of their diverse world through community research or service.

Portland State and Kiwanis Camp forged a relationship in 1972. This summer, almost 300 PSU students helped at the camp, spending two weeks as counselors. At Kiwanis Camp, a counselor and a camper are paired for the week. Camp staff members help the counselors as they navigate relationships with campers.

"I hear over and over again, 'This is one of the hardest things I've ever done, but this is one of the best or most meaningful experiences I've ever had,' " said Ann Fullerton, head of the Special Education Program in the PSU Graduate School of Education. "If you've never had a firsthand, human-to-human experience with a person with significant disability, you have a fear of the unknown.

"At Kiwanis Camp, all that fear of the unknown, those barriers, are gone."

Stanley was nervous before she arrived at camp the week before. Her first camper was a young girl who didn't hear or speak. Now she was counselor to the outgoing Dechaine. Two very different campers. But similar experiences.

"Life-changing," Stanley said.

Back on earth, Dechaine accepted hugs of congratulation. He held up his shaking hand.

"Whoooo-weee," he exhaled. "I was kinda nervous, kinda scared."

In the rush of adrenaline, Dechaine almost didn't hear his friend, Jeremy Thatch, call his name. Jeremy sat in a wheelchair, waiting his turn to climb. His voice was soft, and Dechaine stilled his exuberance and leaned close.

"I love you," Thatch said. "I'm so proud of you."

It was Thursday, a big day at Mount Hood Kiwanis Camp. Family members and friends would arrive in the early
evening for the traditional barbecue, skits and singing. It was the last night of the session, the last night of the summer season and the last night at camp for Gene Nudelman, who was retiring to Florida after 13 years as executive director of the Mount Hood Kiwanis Camp.

The camp is in Mount Hood National Forest, west of Government Camp. It was founded in 1933 by the Kiwanis
Club of Montavilla to serve low-income children, but changed its charter to serve children with disabilities in 1957. Although the region's Kiwanis chapters support the camp with service and about half of its budget, the camp is not connected to Kiwanis International. A big part of the job for new executive director Tod Thayer is raising money.

It costs about $1,200 for a camper to attend a weeklong session. The camp charges about $600, or less if the camper's family can't afford it.

The camp serves about 600 children and adults each summer. The lanky, silver-bearded Nudelman -- banjo player for the camp's Staff Infection Band -- seemed to know them all by name. Some of the adult campers had been coming to Mount Hood even longer than Nudelman.

"When you come to work at a camp like this, you have to slow everything down," he said. "The world slows
down. The whole idea here is not to help someone do something. It's to assist them to be successful."

The forest was piney sweet in the afternoon heat. The theme for the week was pirates, and a banner with skull and crossbones and the words "Isle de Muerta" hung above the main lodge. The camp's eight cabins had taken piratey names -- the Firebeards, Beauties of the Black Pearl, the Cutthroat Coug-arrrs.

In the shaded trout pond, the biggest fish, named Oscar by campers, bore the battle scars on its lip of near-catches.

The Little Zigzag River tumbled through the campgrounds. The river crossing -- done in harness,
inching across a cable -- is a prized accomplishment.

A mossy lane led to the stables and riding trail. Cookie, a gentle pinto, hung its head over the fence to be scratched as the canoe group, experienced campers who are more independent, gathered to ride.

Jimmy Parent and Chris Entrikin estimated they had been coming to Kiwanis Camp for 20 years. The two -- Jimmy, 35, of Beaverton, and Chris, 37, of Vancouver -- looked forward to reconnecting each summer. Thirty-year-old Jeremiah Johnson of Battle Ground, Wash., began attending the camp three years ago.

"I was nervous at first," he said. "But I think you get used to it. You start to make friends."

Later, when the camp gathered to lower the flag, Johnson led a high-energy call-and-response, the kind shouted by generations of campers at thousands of summer camps. Tarzan Swingin' on a rubber band Fell into a frying pan Now he's got a nasty tan.

The cabin skits poked fun at reality shows and camp activities and were punctuated by fierce-sounding "arrrs." There were songs by the Staff Infection Band, silly skits by camp supervisors and laughter about guys dressed as girls, wild wigs and missed cues.

But as the first stars lit the night sky, the group quieted. "We come from the spirit," the Staff Infection Band sang. "Go back to the spirit and turn your world around."

The night ended at the trout pond. Each cabin had built a small wooden boat, which carried a lighted candle. The boats were released with a wish:

A wish to come back and see old friends and meet new ones. A wish to always return to the fun of camp.

Then, from the Cutthroat Coug-Arrrs: "Our wish is that we can be who we are and never change."

The boats drifted, bright and starry, in the dark water.

Abby Haight: 503-221-8198;
abbyhaight@news.oregonian.com