Wednesday, September 20, 2017 // The Statement 
7B

Personal Statement: 
 camping against cancer

I 

was given the name 
Annaka in 1998 in a hos-
pital in Jackson, Mich. 
In Palmer Commons 

19 years later, I was renamed, 
surrounded by 100 of my 
tie-dye-clad best friends. To 
the question “What is your 
favorite childhood movie?” I 
responded with “Monsters, 
Inc.” As ideas were shouted 
at me, I zeroed in on a sugges-
tion from the crowd: Roz. In 
that moment, I stepped foot 
into something that would fill 
me with joy and drastically 
alter the way I think about 
the career in oncology that I 
am pursuing.

The personal vendetta I 

hold against cancer extends 
far prior to my name change. 
It began when I saw my 
grandmother’s hair begin to 
thin for the first time, falling 
out in chunks until she finally 
decided to shave it off and put 
the scarves in her closet to a 
new use. It deepened as I later 
watched the fat slip from her 
bones, her body becoming 
skeletal and so delicate that 
even hugging her is now a task 
to be completed with great care. It turned 
into an obsession when she became too 
tired to lift her beloved paints to the 
blank canvases for which she’d planned 
scenes of lazy days in Ypsilanti and still-
lifes of her childhood in Escanaba. 

I made enemies of the cancerous cells 

within her; the woman whose impact on 
my life can conservatively be referred 
to as that of a third parent. A career as 
an oncologist became a goal to eclipse 
all others. Nights were spent reading 
articles, watching documentaries and 
googling unknown terms in an effort to 
better understand the thing I hated so 
much. Write-ups about immunotherapy 
and clinical trials dominate the favorites 
bar on my laptop. Dreams of patients in 
complete remission dance through my 
head when I sleep. 

Camp Kesem allowed me to confront 

illness from a different perspective. 
Rather than focusing on only the dis-
ease, Kesem fights to weaken the rippling 
effects that cancer has on loved ones of 
those diagnosed. Camp Kesem is an orga-
nization, staffed by college students, that 
provides a free week of summer camp to 

children with a parent affected by cancer. 

We strive to give our campers respite 

from holidays spent in hospitals, talk of 
treatment plans and nights spent worry-
ing about their parent’s health. This sup-
port extends throughout the rest of the 
year as well — counselors attend impor-
tant events, send birthday cards and even 
host camper-counselor reunions to keep 
in touch with our campers (and, admit-
tedly, satiate our own camp withdrawal). 
Before attending camp, I saw cancer as 
a single entity — spots upon the scans of 
people’s bones, breasts and lungs to be 
attacked with chemotherapy and radia-
tion. I viewed the affliction as one-dimen-
sional, not taking into consideration the 
children acting as caregivers to their own 
parents by completing household chores, 
dispensing medications, cooking meals 
and looking over their younger siblings. 
That quickly changed when I met my 
campers.

Within minutes of meeting them, I 

knew that this camp meant more to its 
campers than I could have imagined. My 
girls entered our cabin with huge smiles 
on their faces, running excitedly into the 

arms of old friends and introducing them-
selves to campers they’d never met before. 
They talked about memories of camps 
past and eagerly wondered about the 
memories that would be made this year. 
Under this year’s theme, “The Wonderful 
World of Kesem,” the University of Mich-
igan’s chapter of Camp Kesem provided 
260 campers with activities inspired by 
superheroes, Harry Potter, pirates and 
Disney movies, as well as more tradition-
al camp pastimes, like canoeing, arts and 
crafts, swimming and (my personal favor-
ite) frog hunting. 

I felt goosebumps dot my arms as chil-

dren as young as 6-year-olds bravely 
spoke about their experiences with can-
cer, exhibiting more poise and clarity 
than I possess as an adult. I laughed as my 
fellow counselor Maple waded waist-deep 
into a swamp so a camper could catch a 
frog on his birthday. I sang and danced to 
songs about jellyfish, bananas and bur-
ritos. I cried when a camper told me she 
liked spending time with me because I 
reminded her of her deceased father.

Camp is a place where children who feel 

alone in their struggles can create life-

long bonds with other kids who 
share many of the same experi-
ences, and with counselors who 
truly care about them. The fun 
we have and the connections we 
create allow our campers to take 
a week to just be kids and forget 
about the troubles and responsi-
bilities that affect them at home.

Additionally, 
Kesem 
has 

allowed me to forge friendships 
with people whom I would never 
have otherwise. My friends can 
be found marching with the 
band at football games, hitting 
the lanes with the club bowl-
ing team, playing bass in rock 
‘n’ roll bands, beginning careers 
as teachers in places as far away 
as Austria and working in sev-
eral of the University’s many 
research labs. Counselors ate 
ghost peppers, posted embar-
rassing pictures of themselves 
and bleached their hair to raise 
money for Kesem. I had friends 
attend funerals, make blankets 
and attend doctors appointments 
for campers going through hard 
times. These people have shown 
me levels of love and compassion 
that I would never have known 
without Kesem, and have also 

felt the transformative power of camp 
reverberate through their lives. 

When people ask about my favorite 

part of attending the University, I quickly 
jump to stories of kids dumping buckets of 
water on their unsuspecting counselors. I 
run at the opportunity to tell about the 
dreamcatcher that a 6-year-old camper 
made for me and delivered to me at lunch. 
I tear up every time I try to articulate the 
magic that breaks through the air when a 
shy child opens up for the first time. 

Years from now, when I’m (hopefully) 

practicing as an oncologist, I’ll look back 
on these days and know that I will not be 
doing my job to the best of my ability if I 
am not offering support to the families of 
my patients. I will do everything I can to 
make the treatment process understand-
able, provide access to information about 
counseling services and, most important-
ly, let them know that their feelings and 
emotions are being considered through-
out their loved ones’ battles. As future Dr. 
Saari, I will do my best to offer the high-
est level of care possible to my patients. 
As Roz, I will make sure that those closest 
to my patients will never feel alone.

by Annaka Saari, LSA Sophomore

