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  • From right, twins Emma Lauter, 10, and Abby Lauter, 10,...

    From right, twins Emma Lauter, 10, and Abby Lauter, 10, along with counselor Nicole Kofman, known as "Bambi" to the campers, do a warm up dance before the evening dance Stanford's Camp Kesem in Loma Mar, Calif. on Tuesday, June 18, 2013. (LiPo Ching/Bay Area News Group)

  • At center back, counselor Camille Brown, known as "Chameleon" to...

    At center back, counselor Camille Brown, known as "Chameleon" to the campers, hugs Kiley Dowd, 10, as Haley Garrison, 9, left and Asha Marion, 9, right, get ready for the evening dance at Stanford's Camp Kesem in Loma Mar, Calif. on Tuesday, June 18, 2013. (LiPo Ching/Bay Area News Group)

  • From left, counselor Jeremy Kim hugs Nathan Ten, 12, at...

    From left, counselor Jeremy Kim hugs Nathan Ten, 12, at the evening circle at Stanford's Camp Kesem in Loma Mar, Calif. on Tuesday, June 18, 2013. (LiPo Ching/Bay Area News Group)

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LOMA MAR — What if, instead of worrying whether your mom had sewed name tags into your underwear for summer camp, you had to wonder whether she would still be alive when you got home? Or what if you were 6 years old and got packed off to “Cancer Camp” by your grieving father not long after your mother died of the disease?

That’s what happened to Kieran Ward, of Menlo Park, now 13, who had to get on a waiting list seven years ago before he could get into Camp Kesem at Stanford, the first of what has become a nationwide network of sleepaway camps for kids ages 6 to 16 with a parent who has, or had, cancer. Expecting to have to knit chemo caps in arts and crafts, a week in the woods with cancer campers was not Kieran’s idea of a good time.

“I came because my dad talked me into it,” he said, his blond hair and porcelain skin painted green for the camp’s annual Song Party. He was sullen and withdrawn after his mother, Ginger, died when he was 3 ½. “I thought I would come here, make no friends and be sulking around in a corner a lot. But they make everything so spirited, so fun, that it sort of softens the blow of all the bad emotions I felt. Now I wait every year for this.”

Camp Kesem, which gets its name from the Hebrew word for “magic,” is a transformative experience for most of the campers, who spend a week between Woodside and La Honda, amid the redwoods of the Santa Cruz Mountains.

“A lot of them resist it before they come,” said camp director Heather Paul, “and then they get here and find out it’s not a cancer camp.”

Unlike other camps, which often forbid phone calls to and from parents, Camp Kesem has a hotline specifically for that purpose.

“For a lot of them, the homesickness can be intense,” Paul said, “especially if the parent was recently diagnosed.”

A little haven

There had long been camps for children suffering from cancer and other life-threatening diseases, but until Stanford University’s Hillel organization started Camp Kesem 13 years ago, there was almost no place for kids from families stricken with the disease to turn when they needed a break from watching their parents’ suffering.

“Kesem is a little haven where everyone understands and supports each other,” said 15-year-old Juliane Bombosch, of San Bruno, whose mother was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. “It was very hard on the family to see her sick because we love her so much. I think what’s traumatizing is not necessarily the chemo or radiation. It’s seeing someone you love in that much pain, and that they’re fighting to be there for you. And there’s nothing you can do.”

Juliane this year is attending her fourth Kesem, and among the 120 campers and 75 counselors — all undergraduate volunteers from Stanford — are many who keep coming back until they exceed the age limit.

Camille Brown, a senior majoring in information technology and media in society, became a counselor because she was too old to be a camper when her mom was diagnosed with colon cancer. Dealing with her mother’s illness forced her to grow up fast, a process she tries to undo at camp.

“I didn’t want to be a burden for my mom when she was going through second, third and fourth recurrences,” she said. “I felt like a 40-year-old just trying to get through it. I had no one to clue me in it was OK to act like a 7-year-old sometimes.”

The counselors all go by “camp names” that reveal some aspect of their personality. Brown’s is Chameleon. At Camp Kesem, she peels back the 40-year-old and gets to act like a little girl again. But when one of the campers wants to talk about the stresses they face at home, she and the other counselors are always ready to listen. Many counselors have cancer stories of their own.

Transformative experience

Every year, Wednesday night is devoted to a ceremony called Roots, during which cancer is addressed explicitly. Everyone walks into the dining hall carrying a single long cord, which is cut into small pieces, then turned into bracelets. “There definitely are kids who start to break down when they’re telling their story,” said Jeremy “Pongo” Kim, who will be a senior majoring in electrical engineering. “It can be tearful, but no one’s ashamed to cry.”

After that catharsis, the camp pivots emotionally. “There’s something really special about Thursday morning,” Paul said. “There’s a transformation that happens overnight as a result of that program. It’s really nice.”

There are 37 Kesems nationwide, with another five expected to be available next year, but because cancer is expensive, the camps remain free of charge — and fundraising is a constant challenge. Counselors usually remain in touch with campers in their unit throughout the year, and when the worst happens, they attend memorial services and funerals.

Every camper processes the experience differently; some go to forget about cancer, others to finally be allowed to talk openly about it.

“When I’m at home, I try to shut it off because I want to make sure my mom is happy, and not worrying about me being sad,” Juliane said. “I want to make sure she knows I believe in her. When I get here, I can relax and let it go and let everyone kind of be there for me. It’s actually the time when I grow most. I feel I’ve learned a lot about who I am here because I feel so safe.”

Contact Bruce Newman at 408-920-5004. Follow him at Twitter.com/BruceNewmanTwit.

how to support camp kesem

Find a camp at www.campkesem.org, or make a donation online at www.campkesem.org/donate and designate Stanford as your campus giving choice. Or mail a check to “Camp Kesem at Stanford” at P.O. Box 20526 Stanford, CA 94309.