When a parent goes to jail, it can turn a child’s world upside down.
Some 4,700 Vermont kids — one in every 25 — know what that’s like.
For many kids, parental incarceration is a destabilizing, stressful and isolating experience. And the stigma surrounding it all can make it tough to talk about.
For 20 years, Camp Agape has offered some respite.
The weeklong sleepaway camp in Plymouth opens every summer for Vermont kids, ages 8-12, who have (or have had) an incarcerated parent. There, kids do all the usual summer camp stuff alongside other kids who can relate.
When you’re here, you can just be yourself. You don’t have to hide like you have to do at school sometimes.Nicholas, camper, age 10
Eleven-year-old Jayden has been coming to camp for four years. (We’re only using campers’ first names in this story to protect their privacy.)
“This camp is a getaway from all stress and worries,” he said.
At home, Jayden frets over his siblings — he helps his mom as the older brother to six little sisters. And he worries about his dad, who’s been incarcerated for most of Jayden’s life.
But at camp, Jayden says, “You just get to be silly and have fun.”
Jayden loves doing arts and crafts and singing around the campfire. His favorite camp meal is “BO” — that’s baked oatmeal. (“It is a camp delicacy,” he said.) And he has a secret handshake with at least two other campers.
“It’s the people here that make Camp Agape Camp Agape,” Jayden said. “People know what you’re going through, so you can just be you and talk to others and make a lot of friends.”
Camp Agape was founded in 2006 by leaders in some of Vermont’s Methodist, Episcopal and United Church of Christ congregations. It’s run by volunteers, and funded by grants and donations.
Beth Ann Maier is the camp’s director. She’s a retired Waterbury pediatrician and a deacon in the Episcopal church.
“Our mission is to open up a space where children who’ve experienced a parent’s incarceration can just be kids,” she said, “and play and laugh and be silly and feel the non-judgmental, totally accepting love that we feel comes from what we call God.”
Camp Agape is held at Bethany Birches Camp, a Christian youth camp complex nestled in the Green Mountains. Camp Agape’s mission is rooted in Christianity, but campers don’t need to be religious or participate in religious activities to attend.
This summer, 36 kids came to Camp Agape.
An additional 17 older kids — all Agape alumni — went to one of Bethany Birches’ other summer camps with financial support from Camp Agape.
Camp Agape is just one week long. Still, camp staff say it makes a difference. Kids form bonds here that last years.
“What we know about resiliency in kids, especially kids that have experienced trauma, is that if they have quality relationships, they’re much more able to weather a variety of stressors in their lives,” said Courtney McGuire, a school social worker who works with the camp.
“A lot of our campers come from rural communities, and sometimes they’ve never met another child with an incarcerated parent,” McGuire said. “So at camp, even if it’s just one week out of the year, they don’t have to feel alone.”
Ten-year-old Nicholas agrees. He’s been coming to camp for three years, and he says here, you can actually be yourself.
“You get to relate to other kids that have had the same trauma as you,” he said. “You don’t have to hide like you have to do at school sometimes.”
McGuire says kids who have been through a lot develop unique strengths — like an enormous capacity for resilience and empathy — to address their unique challenges.
Even with that resilience, though, campers still have to navigate the stress, grief and worry that can come with a parent’s incarceration.
“Many campers walk into camp with a stress level that is a 9 to 9.5 on a 0 to 10 scale,” Maier said. “And so it takes very little to trigger them into a trauma response — either they shut down or they run away or they lash out.”
So camp staff do all kinds of things to help put campers at ease.
Like, they try not to rush campers or demand things of them. They offer campers a lot of choice and agency. And they set clear expectations (like no electronics) while still being flexible. (Some kids need music to fall asleep, so staff make exceptions.)
“There's a lot of writing right now about what it means to be trauma-informed. And I'm not an expert on what trauma-informed care looks like, but I think these are the things that we do,” Maier said.
Nineteen-year-old Ava Ploof is on her eleventh summer at camp. The kids here call her by her camp name, “Cricket.” She’s a counselor now, but she started coming here as a camper when she was nine.
“Growing up, a lot of the adults in my life weren’t the best role models for me,” she said. “Coming to camp, there was a lot more stability.”
Agape was the highlight of Cricket’s summers when she was a kid.
“And when I have that conversation with my campers now, they’re like, ‘No way, your parents were in jail?’ And I’m like, ‘Yeah, like, I get it.’ So I feel like I can connect with them a lot more than other counselors can, which to me is really special.”
Camp Agape makes a difference for families, too.
Jess Kell works with moms incarcerated at the Chittenden Regional Correctional Facility in South Burlington through the Lund organization’s Kids-A-Part program. She remembers going to Camp Agape one summer and seeing some kids she knew from their visits to see their mom at the prison.
“To show up at camp and see the kids in their cut-off shorts and T-shirts, suntanned and singing camp songs and diving into the art supplies — it was really meaningful,” Kell said. “I took some photos that day, and I was able to print them out for their mom so she could see what I had seen.”
Kell says Camp Agape fills an important role in Vermont. It’s the only place she knows — outside of group visits at the correctional facilities — where kids with incarcerated parents get to spend time with each other.
But camp alone isn’t enough.
McGuire, the social worker, worries about some of Vermont’s most vulnerable kids not getting the mental health support they need throughout the year.
“I would love to see every school have a mental health professional who’s able to do real, clinical work in the school building,” she said.
Until that happens, though, she says adults can work to better support all kids who may be struggling.
“Children who’ve experienced trauma are in every school and in every community,” she said. “So being consistent, being caring and just showing up for kids — even if there are times where it feels like they don’t want you to — is huge.”
Camp counselor Cricket agrees.
“Remember that you don’t know what’s going on in kids’ lives,” she said. “So when you encounter kids that are being difficult, just assume that they’re trying their best. And listen and be patient. Just be that one safe person for them.”
This story comes from a collaboration between Vermont Public and the Community News Service, a University of Vermont journalism internship.
