Conrad Liu

 I knew about Camp Kesem before starting my undergrad at Rice. I saw a video online and have always, at least in high school, wanted to do something with patients affected by cancer. So when I saw Kesem at the activities fair, I ran up to the club right away and the rest is history.

I first joined in August of my freshman year, but it wasn’t until my second year that I ended up going to camp, so it was very much delayed gratification going to camp. But Kesem for me, contrary to the majority, has never been about the excitement and hype of camp, at least in the sense that I’m not the hype person. I’ve never been one to lead songs or dances. For me, the beauty of camp and of Kesem is the process and the steps that go into making it a reality. So I really enjoyed going to Visitor’s day and see what I was doing all this work for, but I never really struggled to keep going because I felt like our benefits were so tangible. And while I personally do not have a parent affected by cancer, I lost my grandfather to laryngeal cancer when I was in high school and I remember how hard it was to see my mom go through what she did and the absence of community, and now having been in the clinic and developed really close connections to cancer patients who I now consider family, this cause really hits close to home.

I was never actually a counselor at camp. The first year I went, I was an incoming director, the next I was director, and the last I missed because of medical school. But that first day at camp, I remember an overwhelming feeling of not feeling useful in any way and that there was so much chaos happening. Seeing everyone else at camp know these campers from years before and already have these deep connections and to feel very distant from that was very hard. My co-director and I were very new to this position and were not transitioned very well and didn’t have this connection with either the campers or the programming team so it was like “What did I just get myself into?” I didn’t feel like I was a part of this family in way that I should in order to be leading it. But in my time at camp, I ended up migrating to two specific groups of campers that I had an affinity towards. The first, which wasn’t really an age group, were the guys that played basketball. I really had an affinity towards them because I played basketball too and it was all the 8th and 9th graders who would always hang out with me and we would just play ball and it was really fun to just run around with them and to share that space where they think they’re too cool for others. The other group was the red unit, which was the youngest unit. That unit was and is very special because they’re at the age where they don’t really understand what’s going on but at the same time they’re really blunt and it’s very sobering to be with them. Just seeing those campers walk around talking about cancer, one of them just flat out said “What kind of cancer does your parent have?” or “Did your parent die?” and that level of openness and the curiosity that they have throughout the week even at age 6, it’s one of the reasons that I loved being with that unit.

If I had to think about why I love Kesem, there isn’t just any one story. For me, it’s always been a place where ordinary interactions are magical. I think it was the little things like Peanut-Turkey, one of my favorite campers, cannonballing into the lake. Or me high-fiving one of the campers after a made shot. Or just sitting on the floor with Hershey and listening to her ask me why ants were so small. Just these random things that are so curious and genuine and beautiful set in this space. I think camp for me and the magic of it has been the fact that we can have space where kids can just be kids and have very ordinary interactions and the fact that they are able to is a sign of strength that has blown me away.

And then there was Empowerment. Empowerment was not what I was expecting. I remember my initial perception of it, people sharing and every single person talking and opening up about their parent and what has happened and where they are in their cancer journey, then everyone else coming around and supporting each other. But a lot of it was intrinsic. There were definitely a lot of tears and emotions, but a lot of Empowerment was just campers coming to grips with the reality on their own and being in this personal space where they felt like they could finally let down and let the weight of the reality sink in and grapple. It wasn’t filled with as many words as it was just bare hearts, sitting there. I obviously can’t speak to what they were experiencing, but all the campers that I ever sat next to during Empowerment, their way of processing was just drawing a caterpillar on a piece of paper or just sitting close to me and holding my hand and being very quiet. But one moment that I remember because it inspired my entire personal statement was what this one kid during Empowerment. He was a six-year old and during the ceremony he was just crying and looked around and suddenly, out of turn, said “I want to be with my daddy but I can’t.” and that hit me. I had read all of the camper files before camp and he had just lost his father to renal cancer a couple months prior, so knowing that history and that he had recently lost his parent, and that this was his first time at camp without a parent, that was a sobering reality. The fact that loss is not something that we grapple with everyday and the fact that he has to grapple with that for the rest of his life, it’s unfathomable. He literally has a blanket with a picture of his dad on it to sleep with, but during the rest of the week you would have never been able to tell; he was such a wild kid who loved camp and within one hour of Empowerment ending we were doing fireworks and he was out playing on the lake, but I think there’s something so beautiful about being with each other in that suffering, to know that you’re fully known and loved in that space and to feel that you can share how that’s affected you even in 6-year-old terms.

And then there’s Closing Circle. Closing Circle just blows me away. Just seeing everyone connected like physically, swinging their arms in attempted synchrony and singing, “Don’t walk in front of me, I may not follow. Don’t walk behind me, I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend. Here we are at Camp Kesem.” That last line always echoes in my heart for many minutes after each closing circle and I realize that this is not mundane. This is not the hours that we put in to make camp happen. This is not all the programming that we do. It’s something more. You look at camp on paper and it’s just like any other, a bunch of activities in a row with meals in between. You are not making this space intentionally for people to talk about the hard things, but in that closing circle you look around and realize that these are not normal people, these are people that are the most resilient that you’ve ever met, that’s magic.

But there were moments outside of camp that stood out for me. My second year, I was the development coordinator and we always had weekly meetings with our directors, but I remember them also just taking the time to hang out with us and know us as a person. Having people invest in you both as a person and as a potential counselor was really meaningful, they didn’t have to do that but they did, and so I think that’s part of the reason why I ended up applying to be director later on. I’ve always been a person strongly opposed to unsustainable service, so I had my qualms when it came to camp. Like, this is just one week and people are probably going to forget about it for the rest of the years and what’s going to happen to this organization in four years after the founders leave. But we needed to make this organization sustainable and hold on tightly and endearingly not only to the 100+ campers but their families as well. 

One of the things that I think about a lot, is this one family. We had a parent who was a professor at Rice and her kids joined our camp that first year I was at camp. She had stage four breast cancer and I remember seeing her kids that first day and they were so nervous. She and her husband had brought them in to our Visitor’s Day and they didn’t know anyone but she still brought them in thinking it would be good for them. You could tell that she didn’t know how much time she had left and it definitely felt like such a sacrifice for her to leave her kids with us for a week away from her. But that following year, she came up to me at our Make the Magic Gala and I remember asking her how she was doing and she said, “I didn’t think I’d make it last fall” and I had never heard anyone say that before and was confused. “I thought I was going to die, Monica” I honestly had no idea how to respond to that and we ended up talking about how hard it was for the kids and then I changed to subject because I was afraid to face that reality. I told them I wouldn’t be at camp the following year because of medical school. And I remember, as I was leaving she kind of held my arm and pulled me back and looked straight into my eyes, her eyes were watering and she said, “I’m so glad you’re going to be come a physician.” And that moment was so humbling. It gave me a lot of purpose. So much of camp is what I see in the hospital and it is healing. There’s something that happens when you’re present for someone and their fears are completely laid bare and their deepest sorrows are at the forefront and you can just sit there and be with them and know that even if you can’t fix it or make it any better, you just being there means the whole world. To see that translation and see that camp, for these parents, is as much of a treatment as is the treatment they’re going through because it helps their hearts and their kids hearts. Kesem is MEDICINE.

We go through a lot of our undergrad thinking about our career and how we can make things better, but rarely do we sit with surrender and realize that sometimes there’s nothing that you can do. People are still dying everyday. Cancer still sucks. But what does it mean to provide healing by just being with people, to rethink what treatment looks like and how you can support someone by just sitting next to someone, not making it about you, but just being there as a friend. On that last day of camp ever for me, I left feeling like my work was unfinished. I remember somehow deciding to open up and look through the camper files and read every single one of them again, paying close attention to the campers that I had gotten close to and seeing that they had just lost their parent or that their parent had incurable cancer made my heart sink and I cried a lot that last night. It was a lot of frustration knowing that these kids have to go through so many hard things in their life that they shouldn’t have to, things that adults can’t even handle. So that was the reason why I stayed involved past college. It was never about just the kids. It was about the family. It ’s about the patients and their kids and knowing that the we can be present in whatever capacity possible at the time. So whether that’s getting to training I need to care for patients in the future or mentoring an upcoming chapter, my legacy that I hope to leave with Kesem is that camp is so much bigger than just one week and that you should never underestimate the impact that you are providing through that week of camp and that whole year. Camp may only be one week but your work is changing and impacting people’s lives who are going through hell right now and there is so much value in that. Kesem has grown so fast, but there is still so much work to be done and so many patients who don’t know about it, I hope that Kesem will continue to be more intertwined with the healthcare community.

My time in Kesem, if anything, has made me feel small, but in the best way possible. You are but a blip in these kids’ stories. And that doesn’t mean that you’re meaningless, but camp is not about you. It’s about getting your service opportunities or building your resume. Camp is about being able to witness the beauty and the strength of these campers and there’s something amazing that happens when you come in with a heart of surrender and realize that we are all united by the same purpose. you’ll never be disappointed with Kesem going into it for the campers. So it’s not about you. Do it for the kids.

-Monica “Kanga” Bodd, Rice University Class of 2018

To hear about how Kanga almost got named Boba or the impact that Kesem has on the parents of camp, check out the full interview below!