GOSHEN, Vt. (AP) – It was a typical scene at a summer camp: Some kids fishing in a small pond on the grounds of Camp Thorpe, others playing on a swing, others whacking a tennis ball, or painting, or just running around.
But this was no typical camp. And last week, it wasn’t even Camp Thorpe.
It was Camp Daybreak, a place designed to give children with emotional problems a typical camp experience of arts and crafts, songs, swimming and friends.
Unlike most camps, it has almost two staff members for each of the 28 campers, boys and girls between 8 and 11. Each child is teamed up with a single staff member – a “big brother” or “big sister.”
“I like it. I really want to have fun,” said 11-year-old McKayla, who spent her time last week with big sister Allison Colbourne, 20, of Jericho.
McKayla didn’t seem to understand why a group of adults wanted to talk to her. Before she’d talk, she wandered around a swing set. It was only after a few minutes she offered the brief statement, before heading off with Colbourne.
“Our goal is to give them a week of overnight camp, successfully,” said camp director Carolyn Ricker, originally from Richmond, who started here in 1990 after hearing about it from a morning announcement in high school. She’s been director for nine seasons.
And to do that, the children are given intense, one-on-one attention.
The camp is split up into three “families,” where counselors support the big brothers and sisters. And then they’re overseen by a mental health professional.
In addition to helping campers, the week gives parents and care givers a respite from what can be a stressful home life.
Started in the early 1960s by the Vermont Association for Mental Health, Camp Daybreak doesn’t have its own facility. Over the years, it has moved from place to place, now using the grounds of Camp Thorpe, an 81-year-old camp for people with physical and developmental disabilities.
Its $35,000 budget underwritten with grants and donations, the camp takes in children referred by school principals, guidance counselors or others who feel the young people could use a week of structured fun with good role models.
“Daybreak remains one of the few alternative programs for kids facing challenges,” said Ken Libertoff, executive director of the Vermont Association of Mental Health, which runs the weeklong camp.
Demand for a spot is high. There aren’t many repeat campers. But the staff – which is made up mostly of volunteer high school and college-age volunteers, keeps coming back. Some change their schedules or travel from across the country – or the world – to work for nothing.
“It’s family. It’s community for the kids. I don’t think it’s a choice,” said camp nurse Aiden O’Neil, who started here as a big sister. Originally from Killington, now a U.S. Air Force nurse, she made the trip from Texas, interrupting planning for her wedding, so she could spend the week at camp.
Daybreak veteran Annie Williams, 20, of Waterbury Center, an anthropology student at St. Lawrence University, cut short a summer internship in Kenya to spend last week in Goshen.
“It’s the right thing to do,” she said.
First year big brother Zachary Sheehan, 23, of Gassettsville, Ohio, was told about Camp Daybreak by a friend. After only a couple of days, he learned why staff members are so dedicated.
“There’s a huge amount of gratification,” said Sheehan. “Having a kid hug you honestly is the most honest hug you can get.”
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Editor’s Note: Associated Press writer Wilson Ring worked as a counselor at Camp Daybreak in the early 1970s.
AP-ES-08-19-07 1634EDT
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