City, Parents Fight to Save Very Unique Summer Camp

Choose one: a summer day camp for kids with special needs, or hot meals for seniors.  If you are like the parents, Walnut Creek Arts, Recreation and Community staff, and the City Council, you'll feel caught between solid rock and the penny-pinched hard place of city budgets.

The Specialized Recreational Summer Day Camp, run for the past 12 years by Program Coordinator Preston Jones, provides respite, opportunity and life-changing miracles for campers, ages five to 21, with disabiities in Contra Costa County.  Children and teens in the camp don't just go home with a craft creation and a sunburned nose, they speak, some of them for the very first time. They look into their mother's eyes and smile, some of them for the very first time.  There's no other camp like it in the area.

How then, could the camp find itself under the ax for the summer of 2011? 

Walnut Creek faces a $20 million budget deficit over the next two years, and city staff and the council have spent the past month looking at ways to narrow this gap. Under a proposed 2010-12 budget, the city will likely make due with 35 fewer staff positions, raise fees, and cut capital and maintenance programs. The City Council has debated whether to spare a list of beloved programs, including Jones' camp.

The council is expected to adopt its $126 million, two-year budget Tuesday evening. 

There was never any question that Jones' specialized recreation program would be offered this coming summer. The question has been whether the camp would still be running in 2011 and beyond.

With more questions than answers in hand, Barry Gordon, the arts, recreation and community services director, has been looking at what can be done to save the camp in the long term.

"We're working to find a way, either in its current form, or in a new form, that would allow the summer camp to continue," Gordon said.  And it's clear he is, as he rattles off three possible approaches: reduce other programs to free up Jones; make it a year-round, classroom oriented program (also involving Jones); and  explore other agencies for fiscal partnerships. 

Gordon even embraces a reporter's suggestion: enlist student interns from special education departments at local universities and colleges and allow Jones to train them and move into an advisory role, thus reducing the city's expenses.

Jones, initially invited to teach an adaptive martial arts class for the camp, almost is the camp. "It worked out so well, I just ended up staying," he said, 12 years later.  Ironically, he is both the reason the camp is successful and, because his skills are needed elsewhere, why it may be cut.

"Preston makes every one of these kids feel accepted unconditionally," wrote Danita Stevens, in an email. Her comment, although specific to Jones, was representative of the families whose children attend the camp. 

"He loves it.  It gives him a sense of belonging, a sense of purpose," said Deb Trevarthen about her son, who has attended the camp for eight years. She believes the camp helps the community realize disabled kids have potential, too. 

"The camp has made it mentally easier for me to go to work and know that my son is in a safe and fun environment," said Lori Boyce, whose son is 17. 

A stack of letters to the City Council tells personal, heartbreaking stories of campers who find self-confidence and self-respect after years of ostracism. The letters also tell of teens learning tolerance while volunteering at the camp.

Which brings back the rock and a hard place metaphor.  But this time, instead of everyone throwing up their collective hands—or forming them into fists in frustration at the devastation a closure would cause—there is a steady purposefulness. 

"I think the community is going to fight for the program," said Jones. 

"The Council felt they would like to find a way to save it," said Gordon. 

"Have a Kid's Fest Day, get the local merchants involved," suggested Stevens. 

"Tandem Bike Ride Fundraiser," added Trevarthen. 

The list of suggestions goes on and on.

Fortunately, there is time.  The council has asked Gordon to explore options, and the community is clearly galvanized to find a solution. 

Jones, with the most to lose and to gain, is optimistic, saying, "I believe the camp can be run by other people.  It was here long before I got here, and I hope it will be here into the future."