Welcome to the next in our “MESSH Moment of the Month” series that will continue until camp begins again because our Harlam community matters to us all year long. This blog is written by Cori Miller, who oversees Camp Harlam’s Camper Care department that focuses on supporting the Mental, Emotional, Social and Spiritual Health (MESSH) needs of everyone in the Harlam community. Cori is also a licensed social worker in Pennsylvania and a National Instructor for Youth Mental Health First Aid.

MESSH Moment of the Month: Camp First Language:  Because Therapeutic is not a Dirty Word

By Cori Miller

I imagine person first language isn’t a new term to most.  As it pertains to mental health and well-being, it’s about not defining a person by their diagnosis or disability. It emphasizes the person before the disability. When person first language isn’t used, people are defined by “what they have” rather than “who they are.” It’s a small difference; some argue it’s just semantics, but the ramifications are great when we define people by their diagnoses.  It tells the wrong story and puts a person’s disability or diagnosis first.  It’s laced with judgment and presumes that the label is relevant and a needed piece of information about a person you may even only know casually. It leads to discrimination and presents people with a diagnosis with a larger hill to climb just to land on even ground with the person right next to them, who may not have a diagnosis, but who is likely more the same than they are different.  I’m boldly going to coin a new term, Camp-First Language, and I’ll share here a few highlights of some ideas I’m cultivating.

There is a difference between a therapeutic camp and a camp that is therapeutic.  When we don’t use “Camp First Language,” kids, parents, alumni, even camp professionals can be left only to misunderstand the community they are a part of.  It muddles words like therapy, support and treatment when they are very different things.  People get scared and believe that being part of a camp that shares it is therapeutic is dangerous when it isn’t.  A therapeutic camp is one where treatment is provided, and many exist to do just that. What I am urging is not shying away from calling camp therapeutic; it is in fact what I believe every camp should strive toward.  Why?  Let’s turn to the dictionary.

Therapeutic can be defined in many ways, but two stand out to me. The first defines therapeutic as something that helps you to relax and feel better about things.  The second, having a good effect on the body or mind and contributing to a sense of wellbeing.  When we call a place a therapeutic camp, we aren’t using camp first language.  It breeds fear that there will be campers at camp that need treatment, rather than just the safe space that camp provides to help kids relax and feel better about things.  When we don’t shout instead with confidence that camp IS therapeutic—having a good effect on the body or mind and contributing to a sense of wellbeing—-we are missing the opportunity to broadcast the power of camp and the impact it can have on a child’s well-being, especially a child who is vulnerable, let’s say, due to the social stressors that often come along with social media, school cliques and bullying, or the loss and change caused by a global pandemic That’s a lot of kids who could benefit from the safe space a camp community that is therapeutic can provide, and not just those with diagnoses.

Let me talk about Harlam. We are not a therapeutic camp; we aren’t providing treatment. In fact, we work diligently to make sure that kids at camp are safe and on stable enough emotional footing to actually manage without treatment during their time at camp. And usually, that’s because a camper with a mental health challenge has worked hard to develop strategies to help them through difficult moments.  That is in essence what sets up any child for a successful summer.   For some, we agree to accommodate a call with a therapist, but even that we look at critically before agree agreeing to as it can send the wrong message to a child—-that they lack the ability to tap into their own skills to manage hardship or that there is nobody at camp to talk with during a difficult moment.  But Harlam is therapeutic.  We do provide support.  We do acknowledge that there are people in our community (just like in yours) with mental health challenges.

Emotions fluctuate.  All of us can look at our mental health and wellbeing on a spectrum.  It’s the reason last month’s MESSH post introduced the importance of adults demonstrating to their children they will be able to handle however it is they are feeling.  There are times when we fall at different points and it guides us to figure out the people, places, and things we need to lift us up when we land on the continuum closer to unwell than well or really well.  As long as a child isn’t in crisis and unwell, being a part of a camp community that is therapeutic helps move that needle towards well.  It is when we consider the power of camp as a therapeutic space not only to build skills like resilience, but also as a place for kids to heal from the hardships they face more regularly, that our intention to provide meaningful summer experiences turns the conversation from intent to the impact of camp.  It allows kids at different places on their wellness journey to be at camp, it allows kids to have their friends at camp.  And it allows the greatest assets at camp—-our college aged counselors—-to be successful in positively impacting the lives of kids at camp without the fear that they need to be trained therapists instead of the near-peer mentors that we know most often have far greater ability to guide and coach young campers to be the best versions of themselves than the older adults in their lives. A camp community that is therapeutic becomes a prescription for wellness.  For everyone!  Spaces that bring together people at differing levels of wellness is good. For everyone!  It provides hope and healing to those who need it, while additionally building confidence and compassion for those youth on more solid footing.

Being part of the Harlam community, one that has been so therapeutic to so many, has been a real privilege.  There have been countless times when I have heard people wish that camp could be year-round.  Families who feel like their kids are happiest at camp, staff who feel like Harlam is their therapy, just like some think of gardening or exercise.  But, what I know, is that no place, not even Harlam, could operate at the high level that camps are able to sustain for 2 months for longer. In my opinion, this is the crux of why all camps should STRIVE to be therapeutic, aim to have kids leave in a better state of wellbeing than when they ARRIVE, and provide young people with a place the THRIVE, so that they can SURVIVE outside of camp gates where they are often parts of communities that can’t sustain the high proficiency that summer programs can. STRIVE-ARRIVE-THRIVE-SURVIVE (finally SATS that aren’t college related)! It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t push places to do their best, but it does motivate me and remind me of the importance of allowing camp to be but one stop on as many childrens’ journeys to positive mental health and wellbeing as possible.