Billy Wilson’s loyalty to Camp Connect runs 15 years deep.
Wilson recalled his first time as a camper, as an 8-year-old whose short legs made the daily trips to the pool seem impossibly long. Wilson, now 23, emphasized a different highlight of the summer camp: the time spent with his three older siblings.
Wilson and his siblings lived apart from one another, split up among foster parents and, in his case, a group home. Though they lived separately, they saw each other occasionally, he said. But a four-hour visit at a group home hardly compared to what they shared at Camp Connect, together during every waking moment as they rode horses, played games and went to the pool.
Camp Connect continued to be part of Wilson’s life every subsequent year, first as a camper and, when he turned 18, as a counselor. This summer was the first he did not sign on as a counselor, unable to make the weeklong commitment because of his work, he said.
He couldn’t stay away entirely, though. Wilson paid the campers a visit Thursday, bringing along his fiancee. “These people, they’re my second family, so I wanted them to get to meet her,” he said.
That close-knit community was exactly what Loysen and Judith Schagrin envisioned when they started Camp Connect in 2000. “It’s the best week of our year,” Schagrin said. “These kids are like my family.”
The duo, who both work for the Baltimore County Department of Social Services, credited the idea to a similar camp held in Colorado, known as Camp to Belong. They took 10 of the children in the Baltimore County foster system and flew to Colorado to attend the weeklong summer camp designed specifically to reunite siblings who were separated under the foster care system.
The experience was so transformative, they decided to replicate the program closer to home to let more kids take part. The program is run through the Baltimore County Department of Social Services. The $49,000 cost is paid for through a mix of state and federal funding, and includes the money for the campsite, food, and activities, Schagrin said.
This year, more than 50 campers and 36 volunteer counselors, plus a handful of administrative staff, converged on a campsite in Knoxville at the southwestern edge of Frederick County.
The campground, encircled by a series of log cabins and scattered with balls and other play equipment, appeared no different than any sleep-away camp. Activities, which include horseback riding, zip-lining, arts and crafts, and a trip to Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, are very much the typical camp fare, Loysen noted.
What’s not typical are the campers, and the lives they lead outside of camp.
“They’ve never been horseback riding, never been zip-lining,” Loysen said. “They’ve never been out of state, so the five-minute trip up the road into West Virginia is this huge thing.”
Reunion among siblings also makes the camp unique. Campers are grouped by family rather than age or gender, and rotate through activities as a cohesive unit. The only time they’re apart is to sleep, at least for siblings of different genders. For some, it might be the only time they’re together all year.
Keeping children in the same foster home is always the preference, but it’s not always possible, especially in the long term, Loysen said. It’s even less likely among larger sibling groups, like one family of eight siblings who had attended the camp, she said.
She added that the camp gives children who might otherwise feel like they stand out a place to fit in. Everybody at the camp has shared a similar experience, including many of the volunteer counselors who are former campers.
By Nancy Lavin
23 June 2017
