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Sign language used at this summer camp - South County
West River United Methodist Center one of the few such places for the deaf in Maryland
It looked like a typical week at the West River United Methodist Center. While boats bobbed on the sparkling water along the camp's one mile of shoreline, a giggling group seated themselves on a banana boat.
Elsewhere, youth of all ages were playing Frisbee and football, swinging on swings, swimming in the pool and chasing each other around.
What made this camping week different quickly became clear: all the campers and counselors communicated using American Sign Language (ASL). Their hands fluttered endlessly like doves' wings, while they punctuated their phrases with dramatic mugging or mimed movements.
"Are they saying 'Gatorade' a new way?" queried Kathy MacMillan, the camp's director and president of Deaf Camps, Inc. She was trying to follow one camper's unique wiggly gesture to describe the drink.
"It's that teen slang again!"
Mrs. MacMillan, an Owings Mills resident and mother of a 2-year-old, took an advanced ASL course and attended the camp several years ago to sharpen her skills. She became a librarian at the Maryland School for the Deaf and now freelances as an interpreter.
"Many of these campers are my former students," she smiled. "They call me 'Library," she said, making the ASL sign for her old nickname.
Andrew Thornton, the year 'round director of the West River Center, noted there were four deaf camps running concurrently last week, and two camps for hearing campers who wanted to learn ASL.
The Rev. Peggy Johnson, pastor at the Christ Deaf Church in Baltimore, founded Deaf Camp. The first six deaf campers participated in a West River program in 1989, along with two volunteer counselors.
Since then, it has grown to its current size: 120 campers and 75 volunteer counselors. Some of the campers are young adults, the hearing ASL campers are middle and high school students.
In addition to their deafness, several of the deaf campers have developmental and physical issues. There are only a handful of summer camps specifically for deaf youngsters in Maryland.
Louise Gilbert directs the elementary school-age camp; TJ Waters runs the middle school section with Lynn Kohler; Kim Fisher, Lizzie Henry, Adam Maynard and Kim Guinta handle high school deaf and ASL campers; and Ruth Cobb is co-director of the 20-something camp with Kathy Boyer.
As the hearing campers learn sign language, Mr. Thornton said, "through the week, they interact more and more with the deaf campers."
The cost is $355 for the week.
"A lot of kids are on scholarships from Deaf Camps, Inc. We also get a lot of donations from churches, the Methodist Conference and individual donors," Mrs. MacMillan said.
Fifteen to 20 of the camp's volunteer counselors are interpreters.
"Others are skilled signers. Still others can't sign out of a baggie, but they have good hearts and, frequently, they are the kids' favorite counselors."
The camp week was themed, "Christmas in July." Throughout the camp, counselors had decorated artificial trees with ornaments and hung stockings.
"It's very visual, short and snappy," explained Mrs. MacMillan. Other themes from the past were 'FROG' - Fully Rely on God - and DOG - Depend On God."
In one cabin, deaf counselor Paul Dymoke, aka "Snips the Clown," was doubling, make that tripling as a clown, magician and religious education instructor. It was his fourth year at the camp. Surrounding the 42-year-old were 17 deaf youngsters and 12 volunteers.
"I became a clown in Minnesota a long time ago," the Falls Church, Va., resident said. "I was a licensed barber. I saw an article in Life magazine about clowns in hospitals. Their pay was better than barbering."
An educational theater major at Gallaudet College, he trained in using theatrical techniques in a classroom.
"Students studying the Civil War become players in the war. They take on roles, study who their character is, and learn through activity," he said.
He interned at the camp his first year and now uses the similar techniques to teach the campers Bible stories.
Mr. Dymoke was born deaf. From 1963 to 1966 there were large outbreaks of rubella in the United States. His mom became infected while pregnant with him, resulting in his deafness.
After doing a quick skit comparing damnation to a trash bin, he quipped: "I get satisfaction that they understand the word of God through drama." He pointed out he is a non-denominational Christian, attending the Fairfax Church of Christ.
Mrs. MacMillan noted all campers, regardless of their religious affiliation, attend low-key religious education classes as part of the camp's program.
Next came a pottery-making craft time. Mr. Dymoke dropped next to Marie Shepard, 8, of Annapolis, who attends Shipley's Choice Elementary School in Millersville.
Her brother Ben, 11, is attending the ASL camp in another section of the 45-acre campground. He goes to St. Martin's Lutheran School in Annapolis as a sixth-grader. The children's father, David, a civilian employee with the Coast Guard, is a counselor at the camp.
At another table, Madison Givens,
11, also of Annapolis, patted clay into shape. A fourth grader, at Maryland School for the Deaf in Columbia, she calls the school "MSDC." Clay coats her hands but doesn't prevent her from signing animatedly with Mrs. MacMillan about her project. Then she turned and chattered away with her fingers with newfound friends on either side of her.
At a picnic table near the pool, Ben chats with 13-year-old Noah Coakley of Annapolis who attends MDSC. "It's hard for me to be here," Ben said, "because I have to learn a whole new language. When I'm around deaf people, they sign so fast and I don't understand."
"Camp is good," agreed Noah, a deaf camper. "A lot of fun! I can play with my friends and climb the rock wall."
For Anna Page, a 42-year-old deaf woman who works in a kitchen at a group home in Annapolis, camp is a break for her. She worked hard to pay for her camp expenses.
"I loved riding the banana boat and playing dodgeball," she said. "The meals are really good, and I like that I don't have to cook."
Mrs. MacMillan pointed out 90 percent of deaf children are born to hearing parents.
"Few parents can communicate in ASL with their kids. The kids usually live in a dorm at MDSC or other deaf schools during the school year. During the summer, they feel isolated at home.
"The hardest thing is the last day," she's observed. "Kids act up because they have to go home. It's heartbreaking when we have to translate to some kids' parents what their child has been doing all week."
"Deafness isn't a disability. It's a communication difference," she said. "When communication is not a barrier, there's no disability."
Wendi Winters is a freelance writer who lives on the Broadneck Peninsula.
West River United Methodist Center one of the few such places for the deaf in Maryland
It looked like a typical week at the West River United Methodist Center. While boats bobbed on the sparkling water along the camp's one mile of shoreline, a giggling group seated themselves on a banana boat.
Elsewhere, youth of all ages were playing Frisbee and football, swinging on swings, swimming in the pool and chasing each other around.
What made this camping week different quickly became clear: all the campers and counselors communicated using American Sign Language (ASL). Their hands fluttered endlessly like doves' wings, while they punctuated their phrases with dramatic mugging or mimed movements.
"Are they saying 'Gatorade' a new way?" queried Kathy MacMillan, the camp's director and president of Deaf Camps, Inc. She was trying to follow one camper's unique wiggly gesture to describe the drink.
"It's that teen slang again!"
Mrs. MacMillan, an Owings Mills resident and mother of a 2-year-old, took an advanced ASL course and attended the camp several years ago to sharpen her skills. She became a librarian at the Maryland School for the Deaf and now freelances as an interpreter.
"Many of these campers are my former students," she smiled. "They call me 'Library," she said, making the ASL sign for her old nickname.
Andrew Thornton, the year 'round director of the West River Center, noted there were four deaf camps running concurrently last week, and two camps for hearing campers who wanted to learn ASL.
The Rev. Peggy Johnson, pastor at the Christ Deaf Church in Baltimore, founded Deaf Camp. The first six deaf campers participated in a West River program in 1989, along with two volunteer counselors.
Since then, it has grown to its current size: 120 campers and 75 volunteer counselors. Some of the campers are young adults, the hearing ASL campers are middle and high school students.
In addition to their deafness, several of the deaf campers have developmental and physical issues. There are only a handful of summer camps specifically for deaf youngsters in Maryland.
Louise Gilbert directs the elementary school-age camp; TJ Waters runs the middle school section with Lynn Kohler; Kim Fisher, Lizzie Henry, Adam Maynard and Kim Guinta handle high school deaf and ASL campers; and Ruth Cobb is co-director of the 20-something camp with Kathy Boyer.
As the hearing campers learn sign language, Mr. Thornton said, "through the week, they interact more and more with the deaf campers."
The cost is $355 for the week.
"A lot of kids are on scholarships from Deaf Camps, Inc. We also get a lot of donations from churches, the Methodist Conference and individual donors," Mrs. MacMillan said.
Fifteen to 20 of the camp's volunteer counselors are interpreters.
"Others are skilled signers. Still others can't sign out of a baggie, but they have good hearts and, frequently, they are the kids' favorite counselors."
The camp week was themed, "Christmas in July." Throughout the camp, counselors had decorated artificial trees with ornaments and hung stockings.
"It's very visual, short and snappy," explained Mrs. MacMillan. Other themes from the past were 'FROG' - Fully Rely on God - and DOG - Depend On God."
In one cabin, deaf counselor Paul Dymoke, aka "Snips the Clown," was doubling, make that tripling as a clown, magician and religious education instructor. It was his fourth year at the camp. Surrounding the 42-year-old were 17 deaf youngsters and 12 volunteers.
"I became a clown in Minnesota a long time ago," the Falls Church, Va., resident said. "I was a licensed barber. I saw an article in Life magazine about clowns in hospitals. Their pay was better than barbering."
An educational theater major at Gallaudet College, he trained in using theatrical techniques in a classroom.
"Students studying the Civil War become players in the war. They take on roles, study who their character is, and learn through activity," he said.
He interned at the camp his first year and now uses the similar techniques to teach the campers Bible stories.
Mr. Dymoke was born deaf. From 1963 to 1966 there were large outbreaks of rubella in the United States. His mom became infected while pregnant with him, resulting in his deafness.
After doing a quick skit comparing damnation to a trash bin, he quipped: "I get satisfaction that they understand the word of God through drama." He pointed out he is a non-denominational Christian, attending the Fairfax Church of Christ.
Mrs. MacMillan noted all campers, regardless of their religious affiliation, attend low-key religious education classes as part of the camp's program.
Next came a pottery-making craft time. Mr. Dymoke dropped next to Marie Shepard, 8, of Annapolis, who attends Shipley's Choice Elementary School in Millersville.
Her brother Ben, 11, is attending the ASL camp in another section of the 45-acre campground. He goes to St. Martin's Lutheran School in Annapolis as a sixth-grader. The children's father, David, a civilian employee with the Coast Guard, is a counselor at the camp.
At another table, Madison Givens,
11, also of Annapolis, patted clay into shape. A fourth grader, at Maryland School for the Deaf in Columbia, she calls the school "MSDC." Clay coats her hands but doesn't prevent her from signing animatedly with Mrs. MacMillan about her project. Then she turned and chattered away with her fingers with newfound friends on either side of her.
At a picnic table near the pool, Ben chats with 13-year-old Noah Coakley of Annapolis who attends MDSC. "It's hard for me to be here," Ben said, "because I have to learn a whole new language. When I'm around deaf people, they sign so fast and I don't understand."
"Camp is good," agreed Noah, a deaf camper. "A lot of fun! I can play with my friends and climb the rock wall."
For Anna Page, a 42-year-old deaf woman who works in a kitchen at a group home in Annapolis, camp is a break for her. She worked hard to pay for her camp expenses.
"I loved riding the banana boat and playing dodgeball," she said. "The meals are really good, and I like that I don't have to cook."
Mrs. MacMillan pointed out 90 percent of deaf children are born to hearing parents.
"Few parents can communicate in ASL with their kids. The kids usually live in a dorm at MDSC or other deaf schools during the school year. During the summer, they feel isolated at home.
"The hardest thing is the last day," she's observed. "Kids act up because they have to go home. It's heartbreaking when we have to translate to some kids' parents what their child has been doing all week."
"Deafness isn't a disability. It's a communication difference," she said. "When communication is not a barrier, there's no disability."
Wendi Winters is a freelance writer who lives on the Broadneck Peninsula.