ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, August 18, 1996 TAG: 9608160024
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: NANCY GLEINER STAFF WRITER
ROB PARRISH guided 5-year-old Harry Hoyt onto the yellow school bus.
``Take my hand, please, Harry,'' he said, and the little boy obediently hung on.
Harry's face showed his uncertainty. The bus was familiar; the teen-ager holding his hand wasn't. But Harry had been here before - Salem City Schools' Preschool Handicapped Summer Camp, better known as ``Buddy Camp'' - held at East Salem Elementary.
The program pairs special-needs children with middle- and high-school students. The Mutts and Jeffs were inseparable each morning for a week.
Harry was silent most of this first day, except for sentences that popped out here and there, unrelated to the questions Rob asked him.
Harry, his dark brown hair framing eyes that took in everything and a mouth that responded when and if he chose, was in his second and last year at Buddy Camp. He'll be too old for the program next summer.
He is bright, but has problems using language, his mother said. The information goes into his head easily; getting it out is harder, sort of like channel surfing with a remote control that stops at whim. Might be the same channel others are on, might not.
Harry had been a handful last year; Rob, a Salem High senior and veteran of seven seasons at Buddy Camp, had seen him in action.
``Wait till Wednesday,'' Rob said. ``Then we'll see how we're doing.''
That's the day to assess how the relationships are going; the honeymoon period is over and the children, feeling more comfortable, begin pushing boundaries.
"Give me five, up high. Down low," Rob initiated a game with Harry, who silently responded. Harry missed Rob's hand. ``You're too slow,'' Rob repeated as part of the rhyme. ``Try it again, you'll get it.''
Harry did.
The children who come to this camp bring with them an array of special needs. Many are handicapped only in their speech; others are developmentally delayed, mildly retarded or physically disabled. Some have multiple problems.
While their siblings and friends have many options, this is the only chance for most of these children to experience camp.
Tommy Barber, now the psychologist for Salem's schools, designed the Buddy Camp program 13 years ago while working in the Galax school system. Two years later, he brought it with him to Salem.
The parents pay nothing for the federally funded program, and the student buddies volunteer. The volunteers give up sleeping late and five half-days of their precious summer vacation to share the preschoolers' experiences, one on one.
The buddies - cheerleaders, varsity athletes, hockey players, National Honor Society and student government members, musicians - come from several area schools.
Their common characteristics are a love of children and lots of energy.
Each day begins with a group activity, always visual, with questions and answers back and forth. The buddies are told to ask lots of questions to encourage their small friends to talk, to observe, to socialize. The children pay as much attention as their abilities allow.
Tuesday, Greg the Policeman, in full uniform, kept at least some of the children interested. They covered their ears as his siren wailed and watched wide-eyed as they got a close-up look at the blinking, twirling lights.
The buddies were with the preschoolers every moment, matching pictures in language class, touring a hospital or zoo, climbing on monkey bars.
The children ``get to befriend a total stranger who's really locked into them and what they need for a week,'' Barber said.
The teens are briefed on the campers' special needs and the skills they should work on.
``A lot of these kids are used to socializing passively,'' Barber continued, ``allowing the world to come to them because they're handicapped. We tell the buddies, talk to them and make them talk back to you as best they can. Don't let them sit back. They need to be pushed.''
For the buddies, the camp is often an entree into the parenting experience.
Jared Poff, a Salem High senior, was paired with a pudgy, red-haired 4-year-old who alternately tried to wrestle or run away from him. Jared's hours of running around the tennis courts as a member of the school's team served him well here.
``I tend to get the hyperactive kids,'' he said of his three years as a buddy. ``I've learned a lot about patience.''
Jared discovered the child's diaper was wet - very wet. He shook his head ``no'' when another buddy asked if he knew how to change it. But he refused all offers of assistance; he knew it was his responsibility.
The 22 pairs were divided into small groups for 20-minute language, physical education and social skills classes - all designed to stimulate interaction in a relaxed, fun atmosphere. It's important for the children to retain the skills they've learned during the school year.
``Harry, will you draw a picture of what you saw at the hospital?'' speech teacher Nanci Pristou asked.
Harry listened but seemed more interested in the penguin sticker he got during a tour of Lewis-Gale Hospital than in the teacher's request. He responded by waving a sticker-holding hand at her.
As he often does, Harry chose his own way to participate in the activity. He traced his hand as Rob drew a wheelchair. ``That's a wheelchair, Harry,'' Rob explained. Harry pointed to it and repeated clearly, ``Wheelchair.''
Kyle Edwards' long legs almost got in his way as he scooted around the gym floor on a small piece of heavy plastic with wheels, alongside his little companion, Samuel Sharocks.
Samuel was delighted when Kyle, a hockey player, set him up for a shot in front of the net during scooter hockey. ``Score!'' Kyle cheered as the plastic puck went in.
A Salem High senior, Kyle also plays golf and soccer for his school. Last year, as a first-time buddy, he gained a better understanding of and respect for children with disabilities, he said. ``I'm willing to give up my time for them. These kids deserve it.''
Samuel hit Kyle in the rear end and said, ``He's my buddy.''
The buddies were the children's eyes and ears - and sometimes more.
Bonnie Willet, a junior at Glenvar High, cradled Chris Delatush in her arms as she and Jennifer Naugle, a Salem High senior, maneuvered into a bus seat. Chris, who has cerebral palsy, smiled widely as the two girls talked and gestured to him. Throughout the week, Bonnie carried Chris from activity to activity, leaning him on her hip or shoulder.
It was tiring, but she knew it was part of the program. Last year, her energy was spent chasing after a hyperactive child. ``I love kids, I love helping them,'' she said. ``I want to go into physical therapy, so this is perfect.''
According to Barber, about half the former buddies have entered fields related to their experiences at the camp - special education, physical therapy, teaching. Some come to the camp with a career already in mind, to see if they can tolerate it. Other students switch career tracks because of their involvement at Buddy Camp.
And they keep coming back. ``Once they start being a buddy, most of them do it all the way through high school,'' Barber said.
This year two former preschoolers who went to Buddy Camp were buddies themselves. Tiffany Cregger, an Andrew Lewis Middle School eighth-grader, likes little kids and wanted to see if the camp had changed much through the years. It hadn't, except that ``Dr. Barber was a lot goofier then.''
Brad Booker, a freshman at Salem High and fourth-year buddy, wanted ``to give back a little bit of what I had gotten.'' Both former campers were speech-handicapped. Now, they show no discernible impairment. Even with braces, Brad speaks clearly.
After a day or two, the children willingly reached for their buddys' hands or gave them a hug; no more looking back for Mom or Dad. It was comforting for the parents of these special children to know they had bonded with their new friends.
Mom Karen Via said she was impressed to see the older kids ``taking their time to be with the little kids. You don't find many kids who will do that.''
Her son, Kevin, liked that his buddy, Drew Kiracofe, ``did this with him and Drew did that,'' she said. ``The first day, Kevin was nervous, chewing his nails. Then Drew asked if he wanted to play. `Bye, Mom,' he said and ran off.''
On Wednesday, Kevin greeted Drew with a big grin and a toss of his Nerf football. Drew looked as if he weren't quite ready to be that energetic, but played catch anyway.
As the week moved on, the little ones got more active, some becoming harder to control.
The buddies were up to it.
Boyfriends and girlfriends arrived together each morning, but no more than a glance or a touch passed between them all day. During their time as buddies, their focus remained on the children.
Athletically built teen-age boys, some more than 6 feet tall, some with shaved heads, walked hand-in-hand with preschoolers who barely came up to their waists.
A page in a yearbook, a letter from the superintendent were the only tangible awards the buddies received. Their real rewards were bigger.
There were many more would-be volunteers just like them on a waiting list, including a group of football players who were disappointed they couldn't participate; the start of football practice conflicted.
``Harry, move your arms like this,'' Rob said as they stood in front of the Shadowland wall at the Science Museum in Roanoke. Harry watched, mesmerized by the colorful kinetic shadows. He hadn't yet made the connection that the movements were Rob's.
Rob moved Harry's arm and Harry got the message. Harry moved his arm for a moment, then abruptly stopped and moved on.
``Hello,'' Rob yelled into the Echo Tube.
``Hello,'' Harry immediately mimicked.
They traded noises into the tube. Rob smiled at the quick response.
Harry tugged on his buddy's arm until Rob knelt. Harry climbed onto his back. Trust. The little boy's actions often were his words.
It's Wednesday, Harry continued to be well-behaved, to Rob's relief. Last year was last year. Harry had matured and Rob's patience and intuition made him a perfect partner.
It's hard to know who gained more from this camp.
These children, often outside the mainstream, received one-on-one, immediate reinforcement and encouragement as well as intense attention and affection.
In return, the teen-agers gained career and parenting skills and, more important, respect for the children and for their own abilities.
Harry became more comfortable as the week progressed.
As soon as the campers entered the zoo gate Thursday, Harry tugged on Rob's hand and chattered nonstop.
This was his channel.
``Let's go see Ruby the tiger.'' Leading the way, he pointed out the leopard - ``It's sleeping'' - and the kangaroo.
``Look, there's an owl. Let's go see the snakes.'' He led Rob around the zoo as if it were his second home.
``That snake's big. Look at the prairie dogs. Look at the holes. Look at the babies.''
``Let's go ride the train, Harry,'' Rob said.
``We're going to ride the train,'' Harry replied, then sang a train song.
Rob was amazed and elated that Harry had tuned in, if only temporarily.
``It's the parents who deserve the real credit,'' Rob said. ``They're with these kids every day, year after year.''
Yes, but the parents have to do it. The teen-agers don't.
But during this week, it was the small moments that showed how quickly and strongly new bonds formed:
Jacob lifted Jordan up to dunk a basketball.
Jordan signed ``friend'' to Jacob.
Sarah helped Kelly, her legs in braces, swing a baseball bat. ``I love my buddy,'' Kelly told her.
LENGTH: Long : 224 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: DON PETERSEN/Staff. 1. On the first day of camp Salemby CNBHigh senior Rob Parrish (above) begins his friendship with
5-year-old Harry Hoyt by offering a guiding hand to the water
fountain on a field trip. 2. Buddy campers (left) gather to hear
language specialist Nanci Pristou during a storytelling activity. 3.
Rob gives Harry some putting advice at the miniature golf course
during a field trip. 4. Buddies Rob Parrish and Harry Hoyt check out
the scenery from a school bus on a camp field trip. 5. Salem High
senior Kyle Edwards clowns around during snack time with his
4-year-old buddy, Samuel Sharocks. 6. Jill Bailey carries a tired
Dylan Shugart back to the school bus after a field trip to the
miniature golf course. 7. The psychedelic images of Rob Parrish and
Harry Hoyt are projected onto a big screen during a field trip to
the Science Museum of Western Virginia. 8. A page in a yearbook, a
letter from the superintendent were the only tangible awards the
buddies received. Their real rewards were bigger. color.