New enrichment camp helps kids’ bodies, minds while providing safe summertime haven
By Rebecca Chastain, Dahlia Weekly
Devon Robinson sits in the red leatherette diner booth, his mouth crammed with burger and French fries like any other eleven-year-old as he chatters excitedly. Only instead of video games or his latest soccer match, Devon is regaling theDahlia Weeklywith stories of the nonprofit ministry he founded in one of the poorest schools in the region: James Watkins Elementary.
The ministry, West Dahlia Leaders Summer Enrichment Camp, features a daylong slate of mind-, body- and spirit-centered programming designed to keep elementary and middle school kids off the streets in a safe, fun environment.
“These kids had no place to go during the summer,” Mayor Jimmy Ballentine said, applauding the program, which started Monday and runs all summer. “They were tearing up the soccer field,getting in fights and causing a ruckus, and our town desperately needed a solution. Thanks to young Devon and our caucus of community churches, Dahlia now has that solution.”
Volunteer Director Jane Scott said the fifty-three kids—dubbed “leaders”—range from second to eighth grade. They spend their mornings engaged in reading comprehension activities, often debating higher-level topics such as racial justice, bullying, substance abuse and more in college-style circle discussions.
“They call all the kids ‘leaders’ in the camp,” Devon said. “You know, to make us feel important. I’ve gotta admit, it does feel good being called Leader Devon all day long.”
Lunch and two snacks are provided by the Department of Social Services, and the day winds down with computer time and physical play.
“I love the program,” said Tasha Smithers, 11, jumping rope with a friend. “Before, I didn’t have nothing to do all day long but sleep and watch TV and get into trouble with my friends. But this is fun!”
Twelve-year-old CJ Samuel said he didn’t want to go to the program at first, but his mother forced him. “I’m glad she did,” he said. “I’d probably be sitting at home bored out of my mind. Now we can all hang out together here.”
That’s what it’s all about, Devon said—helping kids have a good time and enrich their minds while providing a safe place during the summer months. He, too, attends the enrichment program, but also helps in a visionary role to guide lessons and logistics.
Devon said he just wants to “serve Jesus,” and the West Dahlia Leaders Summer Enrichment Program is one way for him to do that.
“If I’m going to call myself a Christian, a real one, then I want to step up and actually be one, really do stuff for him, to make him happy. Like caring for the ‘least,’” Devon said, noting underserved children, along with widows, orphans and others in need, require extra attention and care.
The program is all-volunteer and subsidized by donations from local churches and community members. For more information, call James Watkins Elementary at 555-7000.
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On Wednesday, the latestDahlia Weeklyin her hands, Rebecca read over the article once more. All around her desk, the phones rang and people popped in to check their subscription or buy a single copy of the paper. She’d come to love Wednesday mornings in the newsroom; the hustle and bustle reminded her of the paper in New York, all that energy and noise and flurry of activity that spelled relevance, life.
She’d put the Devon piece on the front page in spite of it being a feature story—figured the quote from the mayor and the community service angle gave it heightened importance—and ran the photo of the kids in book discussion a full five columns. Running it as lead photo was purely coincidence; she’d had to pull one of Tiff’s meeting stories last-minute and needed a filler. But now, looking the paper over, she was glad she’d done it. It looked good, and it had been a while since she’d had kids pictured on the front. It made for nice balance, plus was good play against the in-depth economy piece.
“Boss?” Tiff raised a hand nervously, then realized what she was doing and quickly lowered it.
“Yes, Tiff. And please—call me Rebecca.”
“Okay, Boss. Um, Ms. Rebecca. So I’ve been thinking. Along with the economy stories we’ve been running, what if we did a story about the people behind the meetings? You know, deeper features about our elected officials.”
Rebecca made a face. “Sounds like campaign stuff.”
Tiff shook her head, eyes wide. “I wouldn’t do that! More likehuman interest. Besides, they’re not up for election this year.”
“I don’t know. We have to be really careful about that stuff.” She gave Tiff a kind smile. “But I’ll think about it. Thanks for making a suggestion.”
“Okay. Um, you’re welcome. Oh, and I really liked your story on the summer camp.” Tiff blushed and tucked a stray lock of mousy brown hair behind her ear, the phones ringing loudly around them.
“Rebecca, line one.” Millie called out, and Rebecca gratefully swiveled her chair away from Tiff and picked up. The girl irritated her beyond belief and she didn’t know why—something about the combination of sweet shyness and drab run-of-the-mill prettiness blended with that whole I’m-a-startled-doe act.
“Rebecca Chastain.”
“This is Lib Pauling,” a huffy-voiced woman began, “and I want you to know your piece on the town’s financial standing is way off-mark.”
Lib Pauling. Rebecca recalled the steel-gray hair and walking-shorts-clad proper Southern lady who’d claimed to be Granny’s best friend. “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs.—”
“Forget it,” Lib barked. “Just be careful about what you’re doing with those articles. You have no idea the kind of impact your stories can have in this town. Now, for the real reason I called.” She paused, took an obvious breath. “That story about the ministry at James Watkins Elementary was perfect. My church helped get that program started, and even though I didn’t see any mention of any of our churches by name, which in my opinion was a sore oversight, that article was wonderful and will do a lot to help community morale and PR for the ministry.”
“Mrs. Pauling, thank you, but it wasn’t intended to be a PR piece—”
