The Acorn People

“Children who seem drained of expression. Pulled into convulsions by unseen strings. Pallid in color and spirit. Beings without visible life.”

Building on the previous quote, Ron initially espouses descriptions that dehumanize the campers as less “alive” because of how their bodies look. This is a common aspect of ableism: viewing people with physical or cognitive disabilities as incomplete or broken.

“Every move, be it brushing teeth or simply rolling over, requires assistance. I feel like a slave and resent it.”

Ron’s thoughts here expose the irony in his initial attitude. After the first day at camp, he is exhausted since he is thoroughly unaccustomed to interacting with children who have significant disabilities. However, his perspective is selfish: Because he doesn’t yet see the kids as complete people who deserve respect and dignity, he is unable to comprehend the fact that they are just as (if not more) exhausted, panicked, and overwhelmed as he is.

“I couldn’t get close to the kids and didn’t want to. A fear emerged in my mind that this illness surrounding me would somehow rub off. That if I touched a disfigured limb or body, I could be poisoning myself. In a nightmare I dreamed of children’s legs and heads unscrewing. Parts of bodies coming off in my hands.”

This quote references a different aspect of ableism while dehumanizing the kids as Ron did before. His nightmare presents bodies with disabilities as solely that: bodies, without life or individual personhood. This element of horror mirrors his outright fear of disability. By worrying about “poisoning” himself, he establishes just how deep his prejudice toward people with disabilities runs. He sees their disabilities as wrong, as sicknesses and deficiencies that should be separated from the majority of “normal” people. His language until this point has been severe and hateful, presenting him as a deeply unlikeable central character. However, this also places him in a position from which he can clearly grow and improve, as he soon will.

“For the first time, I felt the kids’ presence as individuals. Each of them watching Dominic and me. Stealing a glimpse and then staring. Perhaps looking at us for the first time. Seeing if we would stay. It wasn’t a challenge but a real question. I felt it. I looked back.”

Instead of the mass of “lifeless” beings he observed the day before, Ron has now had a bit of space to think, calm down, and view the children as individual people. Like him, they are apprehensive about their new companions, particularly because the counselors have the power to improve or harm their time at camp due to the children’s lack of power and agency over their bodies and their schedule. Checking if the counselors “w[ill] stay” likely references the fact that many of the children aren’t used to having stable forms of support; many less well-intentioned counselors may leave upon realizing the amount of work they’d need to do to oversee the campers.

“Thomas had eyes that seemed like wells. They locked up secrets. His mouth was always dry-almost crusted over. Pinched tight, as if to hold out the invading air or hold in some final scream. He watched the world about him but gave nothing to it.”

Thomas, one of Ron’s group members, has muscular sclerosis, eroding the muscle tissue that connects his bones and rendering him incapable of moving of his own volition. He must be carried, and he has little muscle mass, weighing only about 35 pounds. His size and inability to speak or physically engage with others make it easy for others to overlook him or regard him as entirely unresponsive, giving “nothing” to the world. In reality, as Ron implies, his lack of response is more likely due to being ignored and dehumanized, his needs as an individual disregarded. This gives him a sadness and frustration apparent in his eyes, which are “like wells,” and the distinct impression that he’s withholding a scream.

“Arid wasn’t a humorous name. This condition was terrible for anyone to carry, but for a young teenager it must have been overwhelming. The smell repelled any gesture of friendship. It stalled and interrupted any conversation before it could begin.”

Aaron is an example of how alienating it can be to have a disability, even one that doesn’t necessarily preclude a person from physically participating in normal activities and interactions. Aaron is sociable and capable of many things, but other children can’t overlook the smell from his urine bag, which is completely beyond his control. The nickname “Arid” just reinforces how entirely his personhood is defined by his disability.

“The kids were gutsy and maybe even the basis for lots of self-awareness, but I wasn’t enamored by the prospect. I mean this wasn’t the way the job description read. Maybe I could deal with one child but the thought of responding to such a thunder of pain, well, I couldn’t do it. I wanted to go home. To get to the beach. To run as fast as I could. Lie in the warm sun. Breathe in deep gulps of ocean air. Anything but care for this carnage. I couldn’t do it. And I didn’t want to try and fake it.”

Ron outright knows that many people in the majority (even those with positive intentions) may dehumanize those in a minority, seeing them as a basis for learning and self-discovery rather than as normal people, but even the prospect of growth isn’t alluring to him. He sees the children as a “thunder of pain” and nothing else, unable to offer him the easy, fun, gratifying experience of being a camp counselor that he was seeking. Again, by thinking that he can’t do it, he reveals that he doesn’t consider just how hard it all is for the children themselves, and it shows how people with disabilities can learn to endure forms of hardship that many people otherwise couldn’t.

“When Dominic returned we had a surprise for him. His very own acorn necklace. Benny B. had raced about collecting every nut in sight. Spider told him where most of them could be found. Martin strung most of them together. Arid was delighted by the smell. Thomas Stewart by the gift. Within this brief encounter we all had this crazy nut necklace in common.”

This scene introduces the theme of The Transformative Power of Community, a central aspect of the book. Ron’s perspective begins to change when he sees how difficult camp is for the children, and the necklace he was making becomes a symbol of their growing sense of unity. The counselor and campers alike grow connected through a common cause: making sure that they all not only endure but also enjoy the camp together. Offering their necklaces to others, like Dominic, makes it clear that their goal is to be inclusive and friendly, presenting a place to anyone who wants to build a community during their time there.

“Children and counselors held in bondage to chairs and harnesses were free. It was as if the water gave us permission to push each other and not just be pushed.”

This passage alludes to the lack of agency over their bodies and lives that people with disabilities often feel. The children, many of whom use wheelchairs, are pushed from place to place, lacking control over where they go and when, and this sensation extends more broadly to how people who lack civil rights often can’t control their lives in the way people without disabilities can. In the pool, the children are both literally and figuratively unbound, allowed to play and make decisions of their own free will.

“I sensed that the trial was shared. It was hard on everyone. I retreated in thought, remembering how Benny had cried in the bathroom when I tried to change him. I was mad at the time; he must have been hurt and humiliated at the rough treatment I gave him.”

Despite his professed lack of desire to reflect on his beliefs, Ron has no choice but to realize how his actions have made the children feel and accept that he is not the victim in this scenario. Benny B. is in a camp with no accessibility accommodations, unable even to go to the restroom by himself, and Ron only made the experience worse by acting as if Benny was at fault for needing help in the first place. Acknowledging this is Ron’s first sign of an earnestly shifting perspective and hints at the theme of Mentorship and Reciprocal Teaching, as the children help Ron learn about life just as they learn from him.

“What [Mr. Bradshaw] left in his wake was a set of regulations and schedules that were hand-me-downs from the scouts. They might have made sense to a group of troopers who could move between the craft center and the pool in five minutes. For us, each move was a campaign. Just getting to the pool took half an hour, with another half hour to get out of clothing and ready for the water.”

In many ways, Mr. Bradshaw represents the institutional ableism that awaits people with disabilities throughout life. He has created a week in the camp he runs for people with disabilities but has done nothing to accommodate their needs. Despite this, he expects everyone to stick to the same schedule as the regular, “able-bodied” campers. His attitude shows Ron how people with disabilities face broad, structural forms of prejudice and oppression, not just individual instances of it.

“All my questions about sex and the handicapped were answered in front of my gaze. If ever there was a dance of affection, with taunts and prowess and just plain sexual play, it was taking place in the splashes and noise before me.”

This is a deeply personal insight that many may not make, but for a teacher and pedagogist used to observing children and analyzing their behavior, it’s natural that he would compare the flirtations of his campers to those he might regularly see in schools. A common form of ableism is infantilization, or refusing to regard people with disabilities as mature, and this often includes desexualizing them to an unrealistic degree. In this scene, Ron realizes that these children feel impulses toward romance and intimacy in the same way as others on the brink of adolescence. Aaron even gains a potential girlfriend named Mary while at the pool.

“Throughout the days that followed they gave them to everyone. The entire camp—kids, counsellors, cook and even Mrs. Nelson, the old nurse—became Acorn Society members.”

This broadens the thematic emphasis on the transformative power of community, as Ron’s campers extend the acorn necklaces as symbols of friendship to everyone, regardless of ability, position, age, or background. Their goal is to build relationships and feel supported, hoping to overcome the sense of isolation that many people at camp may have for various reasons.

“I pondered the condition in which people work at intricate tasks and behavior without knowing where they are headed. Surely that is the situation I am in. Where am I going? And why am I at the base of this mountain fighting to see the top? Is it the climb that’s important? Or the summit? Can it be both? Or something else? Perhaps it’s how we go down from the hill that counts. Or is it in simply enduring that we find the strength and purpose we seek?”

This is one of the more existential moments in a narrative otherwise strongly based in present action and dialogue. While enduring a difficult trek up Lookout Mountain, Ron has time to dwell on his thoughts, exploring internal conflicts that he has thus far been too busy to consider. He knows that he’s undergoing a personal change due to his experience with the campers, but he isn’t yet sure what the most important aspect of their efforts together is or why they’re all so dedicated to climbing the mountain. It could be how the desire to persevere together builds their relationships (and their bond is of ultimate importance), or it could be the victory and affirmation of reaching their goal that matters. Meanwhile, “go[ing] down from the hill” symbolizes how they each choose to learn and grow from their experiences. Ron doesn’t reach a conclusion, but his questions explore the broader, more abstract elements of the narrative’s themes.

“This must be the exhilaration that drives explorers. The surprise of always finding another vista, a new thought, an unexpected strength. The comradeship of doing something together. Doing something no one else would dare. And in the end finding something as simple and ever-present as the sky.”

An emphasis on Nature as an Equalizer infuses the scenes throughout the book, forcing everyone to push their body to adapt to the challenges of the natural world. However, this section shifts the perception of nature from something daunting and unforgiving to something beautiful, simple, and fulfilling. The Acorn Society has climbed the mountain, proving themselves capable of doing something others thought they couldn’t do. Now, they can sit with their victory and just admire the wonder of their location, a sky that hangs over all people regardless of who they are.

“The camp was not a place for handicapped children and the kids knew it. Camp Wiggin was a summer camp for children who could shoot arrows, cook goulash, take hikes, and sing songs. It wasn’t a place for ramps, sanitized medical facilities, swimming pool rails, or activity schedules. It was a place for children and their expectations and fantasies for life.”

Upon the group’s return from the mountain, they find the camp in a state of despair and disappointment, as Mr. Bradshaw has returned to dampen their spirits in anticipation of parent visitations. He expects them all to adhere to his guidelines and assumptions about how they should act, and the reinforced limitations remove the fun they’ve had thus far. They may have tried to shoot, cook, hike, and sing like other campers, but the administrator doesn’t appreciate how they’ve adapted to do so. This again shows how people with disabilities are expected to move in a world not built for them, barred from enjoying things that others do. The children will base many of their “expectations […] for life” on their experience here, and the counselors work hard to ensure that their attitudes are based on the staff’s attitudes of support and inclusion, not on Mr. Bradshaw’s attitude of negativity and exclusion.

“Revolution is Rosa Parks, who decides one day not to ride in the back of the bus. Or a navy nurse named Mrs. Nelson, who suddenly refuses to let her children be condemned to a label.”

In the wake of the civil rights movement, which notably swelled to prominence in the 1960s, Ron finds a relatable touchpoint in Rosa Parks, whose actions helped desegregate public transport. The key aspect about Parks was that she was a regular person whose actions and attitude resulted in something extraordinary, and Ron likens her to Mrs. Nelson, a woman he had previously underestimated.

“It was as if [Mrs. Nelson] possessed some kind of magic. Well, maybe she did. After all, she stripped those labels off all of us. She gave us back the chance to be children. To dream and play.”

Even when inebriated, Mrs. Nelson recognizes how the children are unfairly labeled and boxed in by these expectations, and she removes all the labels around camp. Her actions have a strong impact on the children, who are happy to be seen for who they are individually. Her actions directly conflict with those of Mr. Bradshaw, whose declarations often remind the campers of how widely and quickly society will typecast them. In Mrs. Nelson’s eyes, the kids are not their disabilities; they are regular kids who have dreams and need playtime, friends, and adventure. She touches the inner child in Ron, too, who feels revitalized by her attitude.

“Tears were streaming down [Aaron’s] face as he turned in embarrassment from other campers. ‘I’ve never been a king before.’ Still pushing him slowly I responded, ‘Most of us will never be kings.’ Aaron continued, ‘But I’m so happy, why am I crying?’ Before I could think of an answer he had another question. ‘Do kings cry?’ I had an answer, ‘Yes.’”

Aaron experiences the peak of his character arc in this scene when he recognizes that he is worthy of affection, support, and community. The alienation he has felt before is shattered: He is not only liked but is also elected “King” of Camp Wiggins. This proves that he is a remarkable human being whom others shouldn’t judge on first impressions or things beyond his control. Nonetheless, his joy only makes clearer how much he has lost in not having friends until this point, and (as many young boys may) he seeks the reassurance of an older man to ensure that his tears don’t compromise his masculinity or kingliness.

“Why can’t life be like this? Human beings in all their magnificence. Working to find that moment of pride. That one second of excellence at being alive. Hearing our singular voice held in harmony by the voices of those we love. The feeling of belonging not just to oneself but to the entire universe.”

Ron completes his transformation of perspective, and the imagined barrier between him and the children has dissolved. He sees how all people are united, each facing their own struggles and capable of great things, and with this realization comes sadness that his ideas of kindness, community, and support aren’t universal. He finally understands that these children will never experience a singular, harmonic voice in society. Nevertheless, he takes the moment to appreciate this time wherein all people in the camp feel connected, understanding now how precious the experience is.

“Most of the girls returned their makeup and many children displayed symptoms of illness that marked their first few days at camp. Bedwetting returned. Those kids on special diets who had been eating regular meals or Dominic’s concoctions requested their pills again and wanted pampering.”

As the end of camp looms, many of the kids realize that their newfound sense of freedom and belonging will soon disappear, and the anxiety this causes returns many to the same attitudes and habits they exhibited when they arrived. These attitudes and habits exist because they’re used to being discriminated against and offered little opportunity to be normal kids; facing this again is daunting for anyone, especially children. Wanting “pampering” means accepting the constant assistance but lack of agency that awaits them upon returning home.

“Film. Reporters. These kids had never been news. Most had been family secrets. They had been observers. Now they had the chance to be performers.”

Mrs. Nelson lifts the children from their despair by suggesting a theatrical water ballet. Theater allows for all kinds of creativity and accomplishment that these campers have never experienced before. In addition, it offers an opportunity for the adults and siblings in their lives to understand just how capable these kids are. It’s not guaranteed to change perspectives, but it’s a crucial chance to change the families’ minds about children with disabilities and the children’s minds about themselves.

“I didn’t even see the members of the Acorn Society leave. I think they knew and even approved. They understood and felt many things I would never comprehend. They were racers, mountain climbers, observers, and kings. And they were dying. ‘Most wouldn’t live past the teen years.’”

Ron recalls a comment that Mrs. Nelson made at the camp’s start, a sentiment that adds urgency and tension to the events of the memoir and likely inspires the nurse’s passion for ensuring that the campers feel appreciated and supported. She knows that the chances to help them all are limited, particularly because disability rights, medicine, and accommodation were even less advanced when the events of the book took place. This limited the life span of people with disabilities and made the camp staff’s opportunities to help such children even rarer. Ron only understands now the rarity and importance of his actions, and he respects the Acorn Society enough to believe that they feel similarly.