Character-Building Adventures
As the group struggles above 11,000 feet on a character-building adventure, several gasp for breath in the thin air. The column repeatedly stops to let stragglers catch up.
A rash of school shootings across the nation has focused intense attention on how to spot and help teen-agers in trouble. For these students from Eagle County in Colorado, a three-day winter wilderness experience is one attempt to help.
The trip is organized by Meet the Wilderness, a non-profit organization working with local Colorado and inner-city youth. It aims to teach the teens responsibility and teamwork and to give them a sense of achievement. Group members gather firewood, do their own cooking and cleaning and sleep in caves hollowed out in massive piles of snow.
“How do you get these kids' attention? We take them out of their comfort zone to a place where they're off balance where they may be vulnerable to learning,” said Jim Himmes who founded Meet the Wilderness in 1974.
So-called “wilderness therapy” is a hot field right now. One recent study estimated that over 10,000 teens received some form of wilderness treatment last year, spending a total of 330,000 days in the wilderness and generating $60 million in annual revenues.
The programs vary widely in their intensity and duration. Some have attracted scrutiny because of their harsh regimens, which in some cases have even led to the deaths of participants.
Ignoring the View
This trip is far more gentle. In their three days outdoors, the group will scale a moderate peak, have fun jumping off ledges into the snow and sit around a camp fire discussing values, role models and what is important in their lives.
On day two, group leader Innes Isom promises a spectacular view for those who scale Taylor's Hill, a 12,000-foot plateau. They all make it to the top and indeed, the 360-degree vista of snowy peaks is tremendous. But most of the students barely look, flopping down under a tree and huddling together for comfort.
The group members, seven of whom are Hispanic, have a wide range of problems. Five meet regularly with a probation officer because of brushes with the law.
Three girls set a fire in their school bathroom last year. Others have records of chronic truancy. All are avid consumers of the hip-hop culture, according to their teacher John Donovan.
“They have to have the right clothes, know the music, stay cool. It gives them a sense of belonging but the values of that culture undermine the basic values of education, community, self-esteem and respect for others,” he said.
Still, school authorities gave them a second chance by putting them in a special class with Donovan, whose job is to get them back to their grade level.
If they pass his class, they can rejoin their peers in high school next year. At the moment, many are failing. One student was expelled from the class after he attacked Donovan.
Normal Kids Who Lack Guidance
Eagle County, in the heart of the Rocky Mountains, has experienced explosive growth in recent years driven by the burgeoning ski industry. The Hispanic population grew by 200 percent in the past 10 years.
The county includes the upscale resort of Vail, with its active drug and alcohol scene. Some 30 percent of high school girls in the county drop out due to pregnancy.
Rap musicians and professional wrestlers are far more potent role models for these kids than parents or teachers. Michael, an intelligent and articulate youth, goes against the trend. He dismisses rap music as “poseurish” and prefers heavy metal.
“I can let out my aggression to the music without getting hurt, because I'd get hurt if I was aggressive in real life. I'm really small,” he said.
Several of the students come from single parent families. In other cases, there is a family ethic of hard work but not of education. Fourteen-year-old Rosa already works two jobs, at a gift shop and a shoe shop, leaving little spare time or energy for studying.
Hector, 15, a smart, sassy young man with vague dreams of going to college to study law or mathematics or both, is under family pressure to start earning money as soon as possible. All three of his siblings and both of his parents work in the tourism service industry.
Teresa, 15, who manages to wear a low cut top even in these chilly conditions, spends much of the trip trying to find opportunities to neck with 15-year-old Ramon. After eight years in the United States, Teresa barely speaks English and will not be allowed to stay in the program.
In the evening, around the camp fire, Isom asks the students to name the five most important things in their lives. Most speak of their friends and families, their future, even in some cases their education.
Michael refuses to take part. Ramon says his most important things are enchiladas, his dog, his dad's truck and money. Jeff says: “Skateboarding, snowboarding, money, food and family.”
Donovan insists these are not bad kids. Rather, they are fairly normal kids who have made bad decisions and who lack the adult guidance to get them back on track.
“Sometimes they miss school for stupid reasons, like their mom goes on vacation with her boyfriend and they don't have to go to school so they don't,” he said.
Himmes also puts the onus firmly on parents. “A lot of the kids we get don't understand respect. They treat their own parents like garbage and get away with it,” he said.
Clearly, wilderness experiences are no panacea for such deep problems. “We are a Band-Aid for a major societal ill. That's useful but it doesn't solve the problem,” said Himmes.
© 2000 Reuters Limited. All rights reserved. Reprinted with permission.
