On Getting 4 Muslim Friends to Camp: Summer Camp Series 1

I knew Dalmar wanted to go to camp. I knew that he would have the time of his life. He’d heard about it for years from friends and teammates. I just didn’t know if we’d be able to get him on the bus. 

You see, he is a Muslim. And this was Christian camp experience. For years, we have been working with Muslim students. Our neighborhood is hyper-diverse. With over 30 languages and dialects among over 80,000 people, it’s been dubbed “The Ellis Island of the West.” Diversity of faith follows too. In a 3-block walk from Urbanlife, one can step foot into a Muslim mosque, a Buddhist temple, a Jehovah's Witness Kingdom Hall, or an LDS church. Somali refugees are predominantly Muslim, both culturally and by faith. Many of these students come to "club" on Monday nights, where we eat together, play games of all sorts, and listen to a short message from the Bible. At times, they come to our "small groups," where we discuss life issues and apply biblical teachings. Often times, students won't read the scripture aloud or hold a Bible. But more often than not, they will discuss honestly and add value to conversation. But getting students out of town and on overnight experiences is a whole other challenge.

I knew Dalmar wanted to go to camp. I knew that our mentoring friendship would deepen exponentially if we got to spend a week together. . I just didn’t know if we’d be able to get him on the bus. 

Dusting off my recruiting skills from community college basketball coaching, I made getting Dalmar to camp, a top priority. I started early. Cost is a common obstacle for students. We overcame this one early. Dalmar, and friend Ali, worked on the UrbanLife farm on a Saturday morning in June. This guaranteed their spot and provided a sweat-equity style down payment. But the obstacles began to mount.
Through text messages, I would read, “I can’t go, I have basketball.”
 Later, “I don’t think my mom is gonna let me go.”
 Then, “My mom said no and I really wanted to go…she feels like you are a stranger and stuff like that.”
I wondered if his mom was up for meeting me. She agreed to a home visit. But with limited English skills, she sent me through an interview with Mo’s sisters (2), brothers (2) and nephew (1). 
I passed.
Dalmar was given permission. And he wasted no time thanking me:

We faced a few minor obstacles after that meeting. 
A week before, “The only problem is the money coach, but I really want to go.” 
And, “I forgot my papers at home.” We got over the hurdles. 

 I knew Dalmar wanted to go to camp. As his basketball coach, I knew that he was a natural leader and would bring students with him. I just didn’t know if we’d be able to get him on the bus.

Once Dalmar got the 'green light' from his mom, he started working on his friends. He invited Khalid. Khalid was a family friend of Dalmar's for years. He attended a local school, but had never come to UrbanLife or met us. He was ready to pay full pop and was excited about the trip. But it wasn't until his mother pulled up, wearing a hijab and adorned in henna designs from fingertip to elbow, did I believe he was coming. 

Dalmar also invited Ali. I knew Ali because I coached him this past year. In his case, we faced additional barriers that surfaced less than 24 hours before our departure. Getting him clearance required early conversations with a brother, an additional home visit the morning of camp, and door-to-door van chauffeur service. We did it all.

Dalmar made it on the bus.
Ali made it on the bus.
Khalid made it on the bus.
And Dahir (a 4th) made it on the bus.

I knew Dalmar wanted to go to camp.  And now, he was coming with friends!

Waterslide Photos 'Turned Up'

3 on 3 Tournament for Zero

In urban ministry, sometimes you just shoot an 'air-ball.' 

For all the non-hoopers out there, this is when your basketball doesn’t make it in the goal, hit the backboard, touch the rim, or even graze the net. It’s a bad thing in hoops.  It's embarrassing when people see it.   Adding insult to injury, opposing crowds often chant, "Air----ball!    Air----ball!" to draw painful attention to the blunder.

It happened to me this past week. And before you start chanting, allow me to describe.

A month ago though, I was confident about facilitating a 3:3 basketball tournament in the park. I called it "Asphalt Jungle" and reserved the four outdoor courts at Colina Del Sol Park.

I had all kinds of good logic to back up my plan.

-       It’s incarnational.  It sends me into the world of my students.  ‘Chilling’ and hooping at the park.

-       Kids will be out of school with nothing to do.

-       It will be a perfect momentum-building event the week before camp.

-       Keeping them in organized activity, keeps them out of unorganized crime.

-       Students love to compete, and be called champions, even if it is “Champion of the outdoor park in the 92109 area code on a Tuesday in 2013.”

-       The court, with 4 outdoor hoops, costs only $10 an hour to rent.

It didn’t go down so well.

At 10am, I pictured swarms of students breaking into teams and signing up.

There were zero.

I envisioned 4 courts of games, teams battling simultaneously.

I chose the hoop with the best net and shot 10 free throws alone.

I thought I’d be settling score disputes and refereeing foul calls.

I never had to flip the scoreboard past 00.

I prepped a full tank of Gatorade to keep the boys hydrated in the hot sun.

I ended up sharing a glass with a 5^th grader that rode up on his bike.

I planned to crown the victors at a local pizza joint.

I ate my sack lunch back at the UrbanLife office.

In the end, I am not all that disappointed.  In fact, I still think this event has potential to be one of the most fruitful street-level outreach efforts we can possibly do.  I am even going to try it again in a month or so. 

Next time, the best of my energy and voice will not be lost on recruiting for summer camp.   Next time, I’ll realize that students aren’t getting to the park by 10 am on a lazy summer morning.  Next time, I won’t be working on my own jump shot.  And next time, I will actually need that Gatorade to make it through the day. 

All basketball shooters throw up air-balls from time to time.  The great shooters block out the crowd's heckling and move on to the next shot.  That's what I intend to do.

Just pass me the ball now.

Visqueen, Dish-soap and a Scorching Evening

It was going to be a scorching 97 degrees on the evening we had club planned.   It was also going to stay light until at least 7 PM.

Getting students to laugh and play is always one of our goals when we gather.  Squeals and laughter and surprises all do the same thing.   They bring forth joy.   They cement memories.  And they let kids be kids, even if they are young adults.

We felt stuck.
But I insisted:  "Water.  We have to incorporate water."

There's no sense just trying to include water here and there.   There's no getting a little wet.  We were going to turn UrbanLife into Soak City if I had anything to say about it.

First came the water ballon toss.

Then came launch water balloons at leaders standing on a platform 10 feet in the air.

It escalated into a freshmen versus sophomores versus juniors versus seniors water fight.

But the headline event was a massive water-slide down a 50 + foot hill across the street.

It was simple to make.  

We used a FAT roll of Visqueen painters plastic.  We squirted and squirted the plastic with mega-sized bottles of Dawn dish soap.  We added water.

And then we threw our bodies down the hill! 

Laughter. Squeals. Falls.  Memories.  Wipeouts.   Joy.    

It was all there.

Create Redemptive Moments

Summer camp is a transformational time for the youth I know.  That is why I am working so hard to get them there.   Here are just a few of the most powerful ways it can change a student forever.

1.  It’s puts student-leader relationships on Miracle Grow.
   
2. Being outside the city, helps students imagine their lives can look different.
   
3.  Students get to experience uninhibited moments of celebration and joy, like this.
   
4. That moment when you finally get the ‘cool guys’ to sing along.<CLICK PICTURE>
   
5.  Love connections- You know you had that 'camp crush' back in the day.
   
6. Students feel a blend of ownership and gratitude as they experience a $300 + camp for $50 and sweat equity.   Every Saturday, from now until June 27, students will be working to pay their way to camp.
   

Consider partnering with us, by scholarship-ing students at the $50, $100, $200, or $300 levels HERE NOW (just designate camp scholarship).   You can help create redemptive moments.  You can also come be IN THEM.  I can get you in a cabin, serving as a counselor.  Just say the words.

Face-broke dot com

We didn't get this idea from a "Youth Group Activities!" book.  We didn't swallow the air from helium balloons, and hold an activity brainstorming session.

This one came from the professional art world.  It came from commercial photographer Wes Naman.

For him, wrapping Christmas with Scotch tape became a 5th-grade exercise of distorting his own face.   Looking into a mirror, he realized that he'd be able to capture some startling 'mugs.'  So he involved his friends.   And they went 'bizerk' with it.  Pretty quickly, his Scotch Tape Series became ultra famous.

Then we decided to adapt the idea for a Monday night activity with students.
We figured this could be a home run:

5th grade humor + breaking a typical rule (wasting tape) + pictures of themselves = WINNER

We were right.  Fun in the taping.  Fun in the photographing.  Fun reviewing the best shots of the night.

We even gave the winner $20 towards summer camp.

Even our volunteer leaders got in on the fun:

Super ridiculous.

Props to Wes.

Caught Up

In the last month or so, four young men that I have come to love have found themselves incarcerated.   They didn’t actually wake up and just “find themselves” there.  As we say in the neighborhood, they got ‘caught up.’  They gave up on the delayed gratification thing.  It is clear that my friends are delayed in their mastery of impulse control. That is a nice way of saying it. 

In the moment, these boys forgot who God made them to be.  Or maybe they just haven’t ever known the dreams God has for them.   It’s my job to help them see this.

Ever since I learned of these situations, I haven’t been able to shake it.   I can’t stop thinking about it.   Part of it is, I am coming to love these guys like sons.   And any parent, even if they are disappointed in their kids, worries about them.  I wonder how they are standing up to life on the inside.  I wonder if they will have to fight to get “cred” in there.   I wonder what they’ll eat and if they’ll sleep well.  I wonder when they will get out and if their hearts will be harder as a result of their stay.

Another reason I can’t shake it, is the volume.  Too many of our boys are being incarcerated.   It’s markedly disproportional. The United States has the highest incarceration rate in the world (1.6 million in 2010).  African Americans are incarcerated about 4 times as much as their White and Latino peers.   And men are locked up nearly 7 times as much as women.   The anecdotal evidence of my four boys bolsters this 2010 US Department of Justice Report.

These guys do not set out to end up here.  Melissa can tell you.  One of the particular boys I am writing about, was an eager learner in her 5^th grade elementary classroom about six years ago.  She worried about him then.  But she was also hopeful.  She worked with both mom and dad (who lived separately) to keep him on track.  “He is not a bad kid,” she reminds me even today.  Perhaps he just isn’t hearing that enough, from people that really matter to him.

In light of the disturbing news in my neighborhood, I am moved by Jesus’ exhortation to peruse and love boys like this.   He uses the example of shepherd, responsible for a flock of 100 sheep.   “If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off?” (Matthew 18:12).  

I am also reminded that finding a way to love these boys matters.   One day coming, many will ask, “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

The reply will come, Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Mathew 25).

You see, we can’t get out of it.   If we call ourselves by His name, we must go to these lengths and to these far out places.   In my context, and with these particular boys on my heart, I intend to venture into the San Diego Juvenile Detention Center.   I don’t want to go.   But I must.

My appointment with the head chaplain is about a week away.

Pray with me for our boys.  Pray that they might grow to see themselves as God does.  Pray that they then live into that.