NASELLE — Local residents participated in a town hall at the Naselle Community Center on March 24 to discuss Naselle Youth Camp and what its planned closure will mean for the future.

Around a dozen people signed up to speak — mainly camp employees, but also local legislators Rep. Jim Walsh (R-Aberdeen) and Sen. Jeff Wilson (R-Longview).

Closure driven by ideology?

Walsh, who fought the closure during the recently concluded legislative session, contends that the shift away from rehabilitating youths in state institutions is a product of mistaken beliefs by the state’s progressive urban majority.

“It’s an ideological thing; it’s a physiological thing,” Walsh said. “They don’t believe juvenile facilities of any sort should exist. Their belief is that kids who get in trouble, at-risk youth, should stay in their neighborhoods and stay in their homes and that the approach should be one of counseling — psychological or other counseling — to help them get right with their behavior and what they have done.

Pull Quote

‘This job has the most emotional, mental rewards to change a life, and that’s why I am still here. That’s why I am fighting, and I hope you all keep fighting with me.’

Jessica Mason

Naselle Youth Camp staff

“I disagree with that, and I think sometimes these kids who have gotten in trouble need to get out of the environment in which they got into trouble and have a change of scene and get away from people — even if it’s family — to kind of see a new pattern,” he added.

Emily Reilly, attending the town hall via Zoom, challenged Walsh’s contentions. “I would like to refute this heinous characterization of people who have a critique of prisons as being the advocates of this proposal” to close the youth camp, she said.

DCYF: All about numbers

Washington State Department of Children, Youth and Families (DCYF) Secretary Ross Hunter pledged his agency will work to stop juvenile incarcerations and divert youth to programs in their local communities. This approach is scientifically proven to work better, he asserts.

Hunter also cites decreases in juvenile arrests, backed by a U.S. Department of Justice finding in 2019 that determined youth arrests decreased 79% in the previous decade.

However, Naselle community members, including school district Superintendent Lisa Nelson say this statistic is skewed by deliberate cutbacks in juvenile prosecution. This artificial trend, they say, has been multiplied since 2020 by the pandemic’s impacts on the justice system.

Passion and change

The median wage at the camp, which employs 93 people, is approximately $54,000, according to DCYF — well above that in Pacific County’s private sector. But camp employees spoke up to say they aren’t there for the money, but because the camp’s mission and success are personally important to them.

One of many testimonials came from employee Jessica Mason, who has worked at the camp for 15 years. She initially started in a grant-funded position. After that contract ran out, she spent several years away, including a stint at Home Depot — where she made $2 more per hour.

“The only problem with those other jobs was they weren’t where my heart was,” Mason said. “I left it in Naselle, and I finally got to come back. It’s my dream job, so let’s keep it. Just let us go in and do our damn jobs and take care of the kids.

“This job has the most emotional, mental rewards to change a life, and that’s why I am still here. That’s why I am fighting, and I hope you all keep fighting with me. It’s a pleasure [working with everyone], and I hope we get to be a part of the Naselle community for a long time,” she added.

Of the speakers, perhaps the most heartfelt remarks came from a teary-eyed Rod Clapper, a teacher at the camp, who spoke about what youths experience at the camp versus the world they are used to seeing.

“I would like to focus a comment on what everyone in the camp feels in their gut,” he said. “The residents, when they come into our camp, they have seen the worst part of humanity. They see the abuse. They see neglect. They see the violence. They see the hatred that one person can feel for another because of a color, a number, or a gang sign.

“When they come into the camp, they see caring. They see compassion, and they see the respect people have for one another, and if they don’t see that, they aren’t going to learn. That’s where the transformation takes place, and I just wanted to kind of voice that opinion,” Clapper added.

Stories of success

Another worker, Victoria Nanney, who has been at the camp since 1987, told stories of former camp youths who contact her searching for their diplomas or copies of GEDs they achieved while at the camp because they are chasing college degrees.

She recalled one who tracked her down after more than 22 years and visited her outside the camp. Joey, 48, spent years in and out of the justice system, and his turning point was brought about by reflecting on his experiences at the camp.

“He told me he was in and out of prison for about nine-and-a-half years, and then he flipped that switch,” Nanney said. “He was working at the time on the floating bridge construction project in Seattle as a union carpenter. He had two daughters who at the time were in second and third grade.”

The man had experienced a rough childhood. His third birthday was celebrated with him being provided a joint. Once, when his father picked him up in Naselle, the ride home was marred by an eighth-ounce of marijuana and beer.

However, against these odds, the mentorship and experiences at the camp eventually helped him become a better person and a good father — which also led to changes in his own father.

“He said [his children] have never seen anything but a sober father, and his father was only allowed in his life because he got sober, and he said his girls have never seen anything other than a sober grandpa, and they have no grandma because she made a choice,” Nanney added.

She said Joey is just one example of positive outcomes she hears all the time thanks to the work she and her colleagues do at the camp.

There’s still time

The central question posed to Walsh and Wilson is whether anything can be done to stop the camp’s closure.

The lawmakers said it is up to Gov. Jay Inslee and called on him to veto the closure language in the state spending plan.

The governor and other executive department officials were invited to attend the event in person or via Zoom, but did not appear.

“I want to help you fight for [your] good work, and we will continue to fight,” Walsh said. “Right now, the focus of our efforts are directed at the governor, as they should be. He has the ability to make this current version of the defund language go away, go out.

“Even if he doesn’t do that, frankly using the emergency powers he has currently to do many things by proclamation, he could also by proclamation slow the language in this budget item,” he added.

If the governor takes no action to save the camp or delay its closure, Walsh and Wilson said they plan to contest the closure during next year’s legislative session, but admit it will be an uphill battle even with some bipartisan support.

“We can come back, if we must, if we need to, at the next legislative session and pass a law keeping the camp open,” Walsh said. “The best point and focus right now is on the governor. This is a situation where the governor can be the good guy and do the right thing.”

A song and a hope

Toward the end of the meeting, camp employee Dave King provided a prerecording of a song he made earlier in the day because he had to work at the time of the meeting.

The lyrics echoed the heartfelt pleas of the camp staff about the camp’s impact on youth and the chance they have to find a new path.

“Help me; I’m too young to have this life. I deserve a happy life,” King sang.

Beyond the specific closure date, camp employees worry DCFY will slowly choke off the facility well before June 2023 since no more placements are authorized.

The only answer, according to Walsh, “is for Inslee to do the right thing.”