Personal Experience: A Brief Story Of A Faith Baptist Church

In the summer of 2014 I was a camp counselor for a local church in my neighborhood. Faith Baptist Church was a church that I spent most of my childhood in. I was once one of the children who attended the summer camp, who was in the daily afternoon program, and went to Sunday service. Thus, once I was finally old enough to be a camp counselor for the summer program, I felt obligated to give back to the church where I made numerous lifelong friends.
As a counselor, I had various responsibilities such as coordinating arts and crafts, facilitating a fun atmosphere for the children, participating the outdoor activities, and finally making sure the children were happy and safe. I enjoyed every moment of coming to work. I adored when the children

I had children who were of different ethnic backgrounds, ages, nationalities, and even family dynamics. Some children came from single parent homes, some were adopted, and others came from nuclear families. The diversity of the children revealed that the different backgrounds of each child spoke to how they interacted with the other children and myself. One child that I was always remember was a young autistic boy. He was a very vibrant child with a strong personality. For the sake of his identity I will denote him as John Doe. He loved putting together puzzles, then taking them apart just to do it all over again. He loved any sport with a ball, and was always eager to play tag. For a six-year-old he was a radical environmentalist. With inspiration from Dr. Seuss’ The Lorax, he made sure everyone knew how their pollution and lack of action could affect the environment. He would pick up trash and always throw it away, even if it wasn’t his. He advocated for recycling whenever we went on field trips and had to discard waste. He had a special relationship with me since he was autistic and I had experience with my autistic younger sister. I understood that he had social deficits that the other children couldn’t comprehend. His awkwardness made it hard for him to find true companionship with the other children so I was his “best friend” according to him. His ability to make me smile on command resonated with me. I loved all my

I felt a deep desire to want to save him from his situation, but did not want to place him in a situation where he was removed from his home. I also felt helpless since I had no true authority to dictate how he should be protected. I understood that filing reports of child abuse could have the child removed from their home. I thought about if he would be even more flustered since some autistic children are used to routine and certain settings in which they have become accustomed to. Thus, removing him from his home based on one action that I saw could do more harm for him then good. To get a better understanding on what to do, I spoke to my supervisor who stated that I should talk to John and ask how his home was. I was told that different cultures may have different ways of disciplining children. I however was not satisfied with that answer, so I spoke to John personally. I was very gentle with him and asked if his father ever gets mad or mean. He was reluctant to speak at first, but he then opened up to me and stated that it was not the first time an incident like this happened. I later relayed the information to supervisor and she stated that she would handle it. A few days later, he didn’t come to the camp that day. My supervisor stated she didn’t feel that counselors or herself were trained to handle children such as John. I never saw him again after that day, but he still holds my thoughts to