At summer camp, Keant’e “KJ” Boyd Jr., like any 6-year-old, ran in circles, played with other boys and girls, and clung to his grandmother’s side when she came to get him. But one activity made this summer camp different. KJ painted a stone and placed it in a garden, in memory of his mother.
Erica Reed was killed in a shooting in Chicago in May of last year. Her son participated this summer in Storytellers Camp, where kids who have lost loved ones to violence gathered to play while also trying to make sense of their loss.
The camp is run by Chicago Survivors, a group that reaches out to crime victims after a homicide, offering therapy and support. The effort is a small beginning to address the trauma suffered every year by the more than 500 homicide victims and their families in the city.
The camp lets youths share their stories — if they want to — about their loved ones and what happened to them. They get an understanding support group from friends who’ve been through the same type of trauma.
Telling stories about our loved ones is “essential to the mourning process,” the Center for Loss and Bereavement says, by exploring what’s been lost, how things will be different, and how to survive and reinvest in life. Generally, storytelling reduces stress, elicits support and empathy, and strengthens bonds with the living and the deceased.
But children may not have the capacity or aren’t ready to put their experience into words. That’s why the Storytellers Camp helps kids age 5-18 express themselves through activities such as arts and crafts, dance, tai chi and drumming. A Brain Break room offers a timeout for anyone who gets overwhelmed. And a licensed social worker and counselor are on duty for whoever wants to talk about it.
The camp, which ended earlier this month, was held three times a week, for three weeks, for about 60 kids in the basement of City of Praise Church in the Chicago Lawn neighborhood. It offers field trips to the Lincoln Park Zoo, the Sloomoo “Slime” Institute, and a water park. It culminated with Maker’s Day, when kids decorate picture frames or bring photos to create keepsake buttons, cups and T-shirts to remember their loved ones.
By letting thoughts reconsider what happened, survivors stretch out time to process the shock of a sudden loss that gave no chance for goodbyes.
In KJ’s case, his mother had gone to a party in an apartment in South Chicago where, unknown to her, an altercation had occurred earlier. When she left, she was shot in the back of the head. A woman, Shaunaria Watson, has been charged with her murder.
After his mother’s passing, KJ shut down, and wouldn’t talk. He only hummed a song his mother used to sing with him by Lil Nas X that goes, “Call me when you want, call me when you need … I’ll be on my way …”
KJ’s grandmother, Donna Pearson-Simmons, is raising him since she lost her daughter. She credits the camp with helping him come out of his shell and become himself again.
“It’s a lifeline,” she said. “It pulls you back into reality. He started talking and telling people about his day, about his mother, about her passing. The camp helped him heal. He’s back to living again.”
KJ has a 3-year-old sister, Emari, and their father is also helping to raise them. Adults also can get therapy through Chicago Survivors.
“I don’t think I would have made it this far without it,” Pearson-Simmons said.
Sometimes, grandmother and grandson participated in activities together, as when they made a Tree of Life depicting where they came from and where they’re going. KJ decorated his with pictures of his family members, Legos to represent building, a fire truck and a cat in a tree, because he likes helping people.
Another family, including Carla Rodriguez and her 7-year-old son Elio, joined the program after her father was robbed and run over at a gas station, suffering a traumatic head injury. She took care of him at home for nearly three years before he died in a nursing home. When she is too busy raising her three kids to process her emotions, she’s learned to express them through therapy.
“I get to cry, I get to feel,” she said.
For kids at camp, artistic projects let them share their feelings in their own way, KJ’s counselor, Kendall Evans, said.
“We ease into things,” she said. “We want them to have fun and build relationships. A lot of them like to wear necklaces with pictures of their loved ones. Another kid might say, ‘I like that. Who is that?’ They can talk about it, which is why we call it Storytellers camp.”
Initially, KJ and Evans spent a lot of time just singing his song and dancing, or making a crown of bubbles.
“It might seem like silly little things, but for a child who’s lost someone so crucial in his life, those little interactions are so meaningful,” Evans said. “A lot of them are forced to grow up really fast. It’s fun to just be a kid with them again.”
When a homicide occurs in the city, Chicago Survivors gets notified within hours by police, fire officials and hospitals. The group contacts the family to offer help including crisis intervention, counseling for post-traumatic stress disorder and seeking victim compensation from the state for funeral or living expenses. If necessary, the group can communicate with police and go to court with them and refer them to other services.
Counselors may use a technique called eye movement desensitization and reprocesssing, or EMDR. In this type of psychotherapy, patients think or talk about traumatic events while focusing on an external stimulus, such as following a therapist’s finger from side to side. This approach is meant to reduce distress while helping the survivors form new thoughts about what happened, such as appreciating their own strength in surviving and moving forward.
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The storytelling approach is somewhat similar to that employed by The Trace, a nonprofit newsroom, which established a Survivor Storytelling Network to help people tell their own narratives.
Chicago Survivors grew out of Chicago’s Citizens for Change, founded in 2010 by Joy McCormack after the loss of her son. Her family felt traumatized, confused and alone.
She helped create a systematic effort to address the aftermath of homicide, and try to break the cycle of violence that has become normalized in Chicago.
Today, the nonprofit group has about 30 staff members, some of whom speak Spanish, and an annual budget of $4 million funded by state, city and federal grants.
Chicago Survivors Executive Director JaShawn Hill helps lead the kids through camp activities while providing an energetic, comforting presence.
She’s seen KJ grow from a timid youngster to one who now talks about his mom and suggests other kids who’ve lost someone to join the program.
Hill has grown the program, but says she needs to double the staff to serve the demand.
“We know if we can intervene within 45 days of a homicide, we can reduce the likelihood of developing PTSD,” she said.
Chicago Survivors also plans to offer programs at 16 Chicago public schools this fall. The group offers wellness days and one-on-one therapy, but has a list of 80 schools waiting to participate.
Long term, counselors try to help survivors see their lives as an opportunity for growth and adventure.
“Our youths are more than their single stories of homicide,” she said. “When you open their minds to other stories, you get them unstuck from their grief. You can develop post-traumatic growth, which is how you make meaning from a traumatic event.”
For more information, see chicagosurvivors.org, or call the group’s 24-hour crisis help line at 877-863-6338.