Every year, dozens of eager keiki descend upon Camp Mokule‘ia for a week of fun. They go kayaking, they slide down ziplines, they watch the stars, they toast marshmallows over an open fire—they even host a prom night and a talent show. Looking at the beaming faces and high energy, you would never quite guess what it is, exactly, that unites these disparate campers.

“We are a weeklong camping program for children in Hawai‘i ages 7-18 who have or have had cancer,” explains Camp Anuenue co-director B.K. Cannon.

The only difference, she continues, between their program and a typical summer camp, “is we have kids who haven’t been able to have that experience because they haven’t been healthy enough to do so, or they had to quarantine themselves for their own health issues.

“Our program is all about finding ways for everybody to be able to participate, no matter their physical or mental abilities. Everyone is included.”

American Cancer Society began Camp Anuenue some 35 years ago, where it was part of a trifecta of camping experiences geared towards kids, teens and families. In 2014, however, the nonprofit ended up having to defund the programs.

Cannon and her fellow staffers decided Camp Anuenue was too precious to let go that easily.

“It was either let it be defunded ... or kind of take it and run with it,” she says.

What Camp Anuenue offers its participants is invaluable, after all.

Co-director Alison James describes the camp as a kind of “utopia.”

“It’s what the world should be like,” she says. “No one cares about your job or social status or income level. People are just there to care about each other and support each other.”

“It’s hard to put a value on human connection,” Cannon adds. “When it comes to cancer and life-threatening illnesses, it’s very easy to feel completely helpless. You don’t have any control of what’s going on in your own body, and we trust doctors to take care of us. And we trust them, that they’re going to help us the best they can—but the soul and our mental health are just as important.

“Our program connects us to each other, so that survivors can understand they’re not going through it alone, and there’s nothing they can’t talk about with other survivors.”

Cannon speaks with firsthand knowledge. She was only 3 years old when she was diagnosed with stage 4 neuroblastoma—a daunting diagnosis that she nevertheless overcame, though not without lifelong consequences. (James also is an adult cancer survivor, having fought stage 3 breast cancer several years ago.)

“Most of our staff is former survivors and campers themselves,” Cannon explains. “We have this generational structure. A lot of us who went through the program and reaped the rewards can hopefully model for the kids who are coming in, and they can see it’s completely possible to live a full and happy life after cancer—or to live a full and happy life as you’re going through it.”

It costs about $65,000-$75,000 annually to hold the camp, James says. No camper pays for attendance at Camp Anuenue, which manages through donations and sponsorships to provide free tuition for everyone. A horde of doctors and nurses also provide 24/7 on-call support during the camp, and many other community groups and individuals offer their services to teach classes, feed campers or coordinate events.

Unfortunately, 2020 was the first year in Camp Anuenue history that the week of respite had to be canceled due to concerns about the coronavirus pandemic.

“We were able to have an online camp, a virtual camp, this year,” Cannon notes, “but obviously it’s nowhere near as impactful as actually being able to be together, so we’re very much looking forward to next year.”

Those who wish to help have several ways of doing so.

James acknowledges that financial donations are crucial, but she wants the community to offer their individual talents, too.

“There’s so much they can do to show kids that they’re supported,” she says, citing a yoga instructor who held a Zoom yoga class for campers this year as an example.

Cannon also emphasizes the importance of publicity.

“We’re just trying to make sure that everyone knows this is a resource. It’s such a small island, I don’t think people are quite aware how many children with cancer are currently out there.

“Our hope is to be able to reach all of those families and let them know we are here for them.”

Camp Anuenue, (808) 349-7325, campanuenue.com