Summer camps have been a staple of Jewish American culture for generations. It’s rare to get through a conversation about Jewish childhood experiences without someone bringing up summer camp. I have been going to camp since elementary school—starting from the very youngest age group to serving as a Counselor in Training (CIT) next summer.  

Unfortunately, there are serious barriers to the classic, magical overnight Jewish summer camp experience. While we often call attention to the lack of financial accessibility, we also need to discuss how summer camps are often inaccessible for folks with disabilities. This is a problem that runs deep, but given that we want as many people as possible to experience the joys of camp, we must ask ourselves: how can we make camp fully accessible? Over the last few years, I have noticed some successes and some areas for growth in terms of accessibility at the camp I attend. 

Regarding campers with mobility needs, the camp accommodations I have seen are often inadequate. Gravel or dirt paths may not be wheelchair accessible. Nature hikes even less so. Using other mobility aids, such as canes or braces might work for some, but camp layouts might be particularly strenuous for some physically disabled campers.  

I know of someone who attended my camp a couple of summers ago who had a physical disability. He used a cane when he was able, but for longer walks he used a staff-driven golf cart. While that worked most of the time, sometimes there wasn’t a free cart or an authorized driver available, and he’d have to wait and miss out on activities or walk with the group despite the hassle and pain.  

While mobility needs remain an issue, camps have been working to improve the accessibility of their spaces for campers with diverse sensory and emotional needs. For example, some camps, including mine, have implemented one or multiple “Chill Zones” or “Zen Zones” on the campgrounds. These spaces include things like hammocks, headphones, and sensory tools. Since my camp first implemented Zen Zones last year, I have seen campers benefit from them daily. Campers of any age and with varying sensory needs know that they have the option to take breaks throughout the day if the hustle and bustle of camp gets to be too much.  

It’s clear that there are some steps that camps can take to be more accessible. One of the biggest pieces of this is having a direct line of communication between staff and campers who may need extra support: involving them in discussions surrounding their own needs and desired accommodations, checking in with them, and generally encouraging autonomy and self-advocacy. Mainly due to the expansion of the Camper Care Team at the camp I attend, I have noticed significant strides in this area. Having mental health professionals accessible for campers to work with both before and during camp has had a huge impact on the autonomy that campers have in terms of their own accommodations, and the effectiveness of those accommodations. 

However, this ability to grow a Camper Care Team calls into question the biggest issue camps have to tackle: funding…that is, the lack thereof. In 2015, the Foundation for Jewish Camp (FJC) began a three-year initiative to improve accessibility at six camps. Through the initiative, camps were given the resources necessary to hire an Inclusion Coordinator, provide staff with comprehensive support and training, and make their camps a more socially inclusive environment. The shifts these camps made in just three years were significant and wouldn’t have been possible without the external funding from FJC.  

While these programs give us a glimpse at what camp could be like for disabled campers, we need more than funding for just a few camps to make lasting, large-scale change. Even seemingly small improvements can have a huge impact on the accessibility of a camp. For example, the issue of camps being understaffed, as many have been since the pandemic, plays a significant role in the accessibility of a camp. My sister Abby shared with me an experience she had last summer, where a camper who was overstimulated to the brink of tears needed to step away from Tefillah. Abby knew she had to get the camper away from the crowd, but her co-counselor was on break. It took finding a counselor from a completely different unit to step away with the camper—taking time, energy, and drawing attention to the situation. With more funding, my camp could hire more staff and make the camp more accessible. 

While in an ideal world all the funding, staffing, and physical accessibility needs of campers would be automatically met, that’s not the current reality. It takes time and effort to get there, and for some Jewish summer camps, all their immediate resources are going into just staying open. The big-ticket items for camp accessibility will take many more years of dedicated advocacy and collaboration to obtain. Of course, folks can contribute to that work behind the scenes, but what can campers, CITs, and bunk counselors do to make camp more accessible in the meantime? 

That can be a challenging question to navigate for campers. On the one hand, it’s not the campers’ job to make camp accessible for their peers. On the other hand, it’s important to try to include one’s peers and make them feel welcome and valued. A close friend of mine reflected on their experience as a disabled camper saying, “One of my biggest challenges at camp was not actually being disabled but having my cabin mates perceive me as disabled without necessarily having that label for it. It led to feeling ostracized and excluded … and just generally [feeling like a] burden on my cabin.” 

It can be difficult for camps to reach a stage of social inclusion for disabled campers, and no individual can solve this problem on their own. But each camper can begin to take steps in the right direction by holding empathy for their peers, and counselors can promote a culture of equity and kindness. We all must recognize that though disabled campers may have different needs than non-disabled campers, everyone is at camp for the same reasons: to have fun, grow, and enjoy time with friends.  

As a CIT this summer, I’ll occupy an in-between role. While technically still a camper, I’ll be beginning to take on some of the responsibilities of a counselor. I am excited to begin my entrance into camp adulthood, and simultaneously begin utilizing that opportunity to encourage even the youngest of campers to approach all their peers with the open-mindedness and compassion that they deserve. Hopefully, this summer, I will be able to help my camp take the next step towards accessibility for all.