Camp Twin Lakes IX

We had a camp come through that was exclusively for children with burn injuries, Camp Coldwater. This camp has been going for eighteen years, and they are on top of their stuff like nobody's business! They had all sorts of things planned and ready; in fact, they brought in an 18-wheeler full of toys, golf carts, and other equipment to give these kids the best week ever. While many camps may bring in about half as many volunteers as campers, Camp Coldwater actually had significantly more volunteers than campers. They were able to have generous camper-to-counselor ratio in the cabins, as well as plenty of administrative staff and special teams. The volunteers were mostly firefighters, but there were also plenty of previous campers and UGA Social Work students.

My favorite was the fluids team - because skin grafts don't sweat, overheating can be an issue. There were two golf carts and about five or six people dedicated to bringing mixtures of kool-aid with themed names such as 'Dragons Breath,' 'Peasants Revolt,' and 'Damsels Delight' for the kids. They had their own walkie-talkie channel specifically for fluids, so that any time a kid said "I'm kinda thirsty," their counselor would radio for fluids and they'd show up at the drop of a hat.

I wasn't really sure what to expect in terms of interacting with the kids, specifically towards their injuries. At the routine staff medical briefing meeting, the nurses told us that some kids were injured in accidental fires, while others sustained their injuries from the malicious intentions of others. The first day, I noticed every burn, every skin graft. When I introduced myself to the cabin I was assigned to help out for the week, the counselors told me their own burn stories within about an hour without any prompting or asking:

"Hey, I'm Clint, I've been coming to camp since the first Camp Coldwater eighteen years ago. When I was four, my mom was cooking bacon and I climbed up the stove and knocked the pan all over myself."

Walt told me a touching story - "When I was a kid, I was pourin gas on a fire to see it light up, you know? The first couple times it was really cool and the fire - like - WHOOM - ya know! but then the fire went up into the gas can, and it exploded all over me. I could hear my brothers yellin "Roll, man, roll!" so I did and it worked. My Mom poured cold water on me from the hose, and the doctors said that's what helped keep me from bein burned real bad. I camp to camp the second year, that's where I met Clint. Then you know Kathy? She bit a TV cord when she was little and has a burn on the side of her mouth. We met then, too, now we're married with one kid and one on the way!"

At Coldwater I didn't make as many close bonds with individual campers as I had for some of the other camps, but I had a lot of smaller moments with a lot of them. Many of the campers and volunteers this week were from the deep south, real country boys and girls and proud of it. I'm a little ashamed to say, there was one instance in which I thought a kid had some cognitive deficits, but it turns out he was just being country. 'Deep South' isn't really a heritage that I particularly identify with, so I was a little self-conscious sometimes about how I came across.

However, the fact of the matter was that the kids were still kids at summer camp, and therefore they think every little thing you do is awesome. One moment stuck out in my head the most. I got to MC the talent show, which I did dressed as a banana. All the kids loved it, and I was from then on known to the campers as "Banana Man." Even the ones who I assumed I would have the least in common with would come up to me with all sorts of high-fives and hugs and smiles, telling me what they did that day and the recent news with their date to the prom and with their friends.

The Banana Man

There was one moment of camp that stuck in my head the most. The cabin I had been hanging out with all week had asked me to do a drumming session with them during camp swim time. I took the six boys (ages 11-12) and Clint over to the pavilion and asked them to pull over three picnic tables in a U-shape so that we have a place to sit. Immediately, the boys each ran to a different table, each one tugging with all his might. I called them back over and told that it was a team building exercise (bluffing) and that they need to work together. With that, they all went to the same table but started tugging and pulling at different times and angles. The more dominant boys started getting frustrated and began barking orders, while the others - and one in particular - were very clearly getting upset. Clint and I got them all to stop and sit down at one of the tables and take a few deep breaths.

Then, we started talking. It was very difficult for them to create constructive criticism, and even harder for them to point out their own shortcomings in dealing with the situation. One boy even had some tears, because he had been picked on throughout the week by some of the tougher boys. Finally, we came to a consensus about how to treat each other and the method of going about moving the table. The group elected a leader, and he led the team to move the tables. It was still rough, but the job got done.

During the drum session, I tried my hardest to pick activities that encouraged teamwork and emphasized that we were working together to make one sound. It was a difficult session to get going, but picked up pretty well considering the earlier frustration.

After the session, it was time to move the tables back. I had hoped that my budding skills as a drum-circle facilitator had worked miracles, and that they would be able to move the tables with smiles and laughter, and we'd go skipping merrily into the sunset. In reality, it was still a difficult task to move the tables. BUT it happened, and it happened with considerably less frustration and agression than the first time.

It's funny how little unexpected moments like this can pop up and really have an impact on you. At the beginning I was a little anxious about what it would be like to work with kids with burn injuries. It turns out that as usual, kids are kids no matter what. The rest is only skin deep.