The Campers of Dream Street

I changed their dirty diapers and cleaned their fragile bodies. I read them bedtime stories, helped them write their names, and coaxed them to eat and drink. I lifted them onto horses and held them gently as they paddled in the pool. These people were not infants; rather, they were the best teachers I have ever had. And as I have learned, sometimes the best teachers come from the most unexpected sources.

The best teachers I have ever encountered are the campers of Dream Street, a weeklong overnight camp in Mississippi for children with physical disabilities. Dream Street campers live with a range of physical disabilities, including cerebral palsy, spinal bifida, and spinal cord injuries. Some children are quadriplegic or paraplegic; others walk with the aid of leg braces or walkers. Yet despite these very real challenges, the campers of Dream Street have unique qualities that have made them the finest teachers I know. I was a staff member at Dream Street for seven years. During this time, I encountered a number of amazing children, who over time helped mold and shape me into the person I am today; they helped build me into a stronger person, more loving, more caring, more giving. They melded me into a more tolerant human being. Perhaps above all else, they have made me a person with something larger to believe in than myself.

As the best teachers should, Dream Street campers allowed me to share their moments of triumph. Indeed, as a Dream Street staff member, I was supposed to have the role of "teacher." I was supposed to be empowering the campers to find their strengths and overcome their weaknesses. Yet in the end, it was through the shared learning, the shared intimacy of the Dream Street experience, that I learned the most. I rejoiced as my campers achieved small victories, cried with them when they failed, pushed them to try again. My campers taught me that true persistence inevitably brings results, and that the sky is the limit if I always believe in myself. They have pushed and prodded me to look deeply at my own life, and to decide to live fully, happily, openly, and with passion and compassion in each day. They have revealed to me a world quite different from my own, then welcomed me into their lives with open arms. Kris dives off of the diving board into the deep end of the pool with no arms or legs. Audrey ties her shoe for the first time at age twelve. Saqueena climbs a 30-foot tower, using only her powerful arms and hands for strength. Miracle moves quickly from one end of camp to another, walking on her hands as her legs drag behind her, then hopping onto the stage and bursting into song. One camper joins the national wheelchair tennis circuit and evolves from a timid girl to a sparkling and strong young adult.

In the woods of Mississippi, magic happens; teachers become students, students become teachers, and everyone remembers what it is to truly be alive. How can I, as a new teacher, bring this magic into my classroom every day in order to teach my own students these vital life lessons? I cannot bring a swimming pool into the classroom or lift my students onto horses each day. But by always remembering that students can often be the best teachers, by treating my students as human beings, with all the respect that human beings deserve, I can model those lessons for them each day. I am striving to teach my students the lessons that Saqueena, Kris, Audrey, Miracle, and countless others have taught me. I realize more and more each day that these are not easy lessons to teach, and I am eternally grateful to have learned them from the best group of teachers I know.

--- Sarah Rubin, American University