Serving Children in Crisis: a Web Log on Responding to the Needs of Children Impacted by California’s Wildfires   Save the Children's staff on the ground in San Diego share their impressions of responding to the southern California wildfires. Andrea (R) and Estefania (L) show off their faces, painted by another child playing in Save the Children's Safe Space in Ramona. Familiar Faces by Kate Conradt Posted Monday, 10/29/2007 Smoke stills hangs thick in the valleys surrounding Ramona when we arrive on Sunday. This small town, located northeast of San Diego, was evacuated when the fires raced toward it. Residents have only just been allowed to return. Much of the town is fine, though some families have lost homes. Others have returned to find their houses full of soot and ash. All are without safe running water. The local assistance center, set up at a former school building, is packed with families trying to get their lives back on track following the devastating wildfires. Lines are long, and the place is filled with children. We immediately begin setting up a safe play area near one of the assistance tents on the grass. Within minutes we are engulfed in a wave of children thrilled to see what we have brought with us.  The team is delighted to see familiar faces — safe and sound. Among them is Eddie, whom we met at the evacuation center in Escondido. He scampers up and throws a big hug around our team leader, Jeanne-Aimee, and gives Nino a high five before excitedly launching into the important business of playing. Within minutes of setting up, some 50 children are busy drawing, coloring, reading and playing with toys. The bigger boys organize a soccer game. Word spreads that 11-year-old Yessica has discovered the face paint. Soon she has an excited and vocal audience of little girls wanting flowers or monster lips or stars or sparkles (or all of the above) decorating their faces. They shout advice or shriek, as only little girls can, if Yessica goes in an unexpected creative direction. And they find great hilarity in Yessica’s handiwork for me: a red and yellow lightning bolt that covers my eye and right cheek. Save the Children’s Safe Space program gives children who have been through a disaster the chance to be kids again. It also allows parents some peace of mind as they go through the bureaucracy of recovery: They know where their children are, and they know they have safe activities keeping them engaged.   Purple Pizza and Candy Land by Kate Conradt Posted Sunday, 10/28/2007 Cathy, 9, reads in the Safe Space. It is only 9 a.m., and the sun is already reminding us that we are in the desert. Our team has split up again to reach as many children as possible — some heading south, others north. I join colleagues in Ramona, adding additional shade canopies and bringing fresh supplies for the safe play area. Even more children have accompanied their parents to the assistance center today — and they all are lined up in the parking lot, in the unrelenting heat. Our area, now four canopies long, provides a welcome respite from adult business and the weather. And the importance of our safe space is only highlighted by the playground equipment nearby, wrapped in police tape. Deemed unsafe, it nevertheless offers a dangerous temptation for kids who would rather not be standing in line. I am glad we have provided another option. Some of the parents join us in the tent, overseeing projects. One mother tells me that she is thrilled that her daughters are back at play. They have been having trouble sleeping at night, she says. Separately, the girls tell us that they had to evacuate in the night, when firemen came down their street shouting that they needed to leave. Meanwhile, Red Cross volunteers tell us that our organized play area has facilitated their work to provide assistance. Parents can concentrate on paperwork. Daniel, 6, draws with Save the Children emergency responder Claire. Today Claire delights children with her drawings of dinner plates and purple pizza on a table that we have covered with butcher paper. Theresa, an art therapist who has volunteered to help, has about a dozen children at another table busily making a huge Halloween mural. Jeanne-Aimee is playing Candy Land. And Nino and I get to play hangman, in English and Spanish.    Who says work cannot be fun?     The smell of fire and smoke is everywhere by Kate Conradt, communications director Posted Wednesday, 10/24/2007 You can smell the smoke the minute you open the door in the morning. It's wood smoke, reminiscent of camping in the mountains, but far more ominous. The air is thick with it in San Diego, no less so for the ash that gently wafts over the city.   It doesn't take long before your clothes and skin smell of the fires — and the back of your throat parches from the constant assault on the respiratory system.   But at least the Santa Ana winds have died down.   The schools are closed here, many of them serving as evacuation centers, all of them because the air presents such a health threat. One mother I spoke to, Gail, said her children were missing school and their classmates — though the youngsters were enjoying the adventure of sleeping in a tent outside Qualcomm Stadium for two nights. It is early days for them as evacuees, and the novelty has yet to wear off for the children, as it clearly has on Gail. She worries about the air quality and the chill at night as they sleep on cots.   Another mother with three teenagers said her kids were climbing the walls without school and without anything to do. They are hoping to evacuate the city to find cleaner air further north. Qualcomm -- people sleep in donated tents, on the cement, around the halls and byways of Qualcomm Stadium. At Qualcomm Stadium, we provided our games and activity manual to a group of San Diego teachers providing a safe space for children at the stadium. We also will provide them canopies to help protect children and volunteers from the hot sun. Over the coming days, we will continue to support their efforts as needed. The parks and recreation department has a well-stocked area for children to play — so we will stay in touch with them in case they need help as we move to shelters in the suburbs, closer to the fires, and where we hear that there are a lot of children with little to do.   Qualcomm Stadium is quite organized, and a lot of people are trying to help. Food and water is plentiful, and volunteers are arriving all the time to help provide services (acupuncture!) and other assistance. Still, families are sleeping out in the open — some stringing tents between their cars in the parking lot, others crowded on cots on the hallways of the giant football stadium because it is warmer there. There is no privacy, and we felt like intruders in someone's bedroom when we walked in this morning.   For however many comforts there are at the stadium (and word is that other centers lack some of the amenities), it is no long-term situation for children and their families, especially those who cannot afford to evacuate further out or who have lost everything and will lack the means to start all over again. Some shelters are expected to stay open for several weeks. Ready to help by Jeanne-Aimée De Marrais, Team Leader, San Diego Wildfires Response Posted 10 p.m. Pacific Time, Tuesday, 10/23/2007 Jeanne-Aimée DeMarrais, Save the Children Team Leader, sets up safe play area in Santee, Calif. In Flight (October 23, 2007) — I am on my flight, being deployed to San Diego to lead Save the Children’s emergency wildfire response effort and watching reports of the fires on in-flight television. The urgency that I feel — and the lump of emotion deep in my throat — are all too familiar. It’s not my first deployment as Team Leader for Save the Children’s domestic emergency unit. I served in the Gulf Coast for 13 months, helping lead Save the Children’s Hurricane Katrina response. No matter how many disasters I work on, I am always deeply touched by the feelings of loss, sadness, and devastation that children and families are facing — and I carry that in my heart always. In about 90 minutes, I will meet my team of five at the airport in San Diego, and we will head directly to the Qualcomm Center in San Diego where at least 7,000 people are being housed tonight. I feel a tremendous urgency to get on the ground and start building partnerships with the local community in San Diego — as well as serve children who have lost homes and tragically, sometimes everything in the last few hours.  I am anxious to get to work — I know from experience that shelters can be very dangerous places for children. Disaster plans in the U.S. do not adequately protect children, and a shelter’s dark corners and spaces crowded with strangers are often very unsafe for children. Sunrise at Qualcomm stadium  In California’s shelters we will set up Save the Children’s “Safe Spaces” program for children. We provide materials and training to volunteers so that they can operate a safe play space that supports children’s recovery and resilience.  We know from years of helping children in shelters around the world that if we provide a calm, safe, fun place for children to be children and interact with peers and with caring adults, they will be able to best bounce back and be strong. Safe Spaces also allow parents who have lost everything to have a few minutes of rest so that they can think about how they and their families can start rebuilding their lives. The first challenge when we hit the ground will be figuring out where the children have been evacuated. Shelters in this country usually only count individuals — they don’t count children — so Save the Children must first identify where the children are and what are their most urgent needs to ensure their safety and resilience. Save the Children staffer Nino Acuna plays with 5-year-old Angelina at a shelter in Santee, Calif. Save the Children provided games and other safe play materials to the shelter where Angelina and her family are sheltered. This is the second evacuation for them during this fire. Their house was destroyed in the fires of 2003. And they do not know the status of their current home.  Over the coming days, in addition to providing Safe Spaces in shelters, we will also do a rapid assessment of child care facilities to determine how many have been damaged and are in need of assistance to get operational again. Communities cannot recover if there is no quality child care available for their young children. As I keep watching the news, I feel a tremendous sadness. A mother who says that she calmly evacuated with her three children and is fine — looks at her feet and realizes she has two different shoes on. She softly says, maybe she’s not so fine. And I can see the fear in her children’s eyes.  Disasters are terrifying for young children who do not fully understand what has happened to them and who don’t have the verbal skills yet to express what they’ve seen. And perhaps most of all, disasters are frightening for children because they see their parents’ fear and sense of loss. I also feel a deep sense of emotion because I know that in the next day, I will make a difference, a real and profound difference in a child’s life — in many children’s lives.  I know how to keep children safe and support their recovery, and in about 60 minutes when we land, I will have the chance to reach out and truly help. It is an amazing privilege to be able to help families and children recover from a disaster like the fires. Since I came back from Hurricane Katrina, I have often publically said that disasters are remarkable environments that bring out the very best in Americans. Disasters tragically strip people down to the core — the superficial stuff in our lives quickly evaporates and all that is left is core, heart and soul. And in that environment, people are able to connect, core to core. It is an honor and privilege to be able to work in partnership with communities, schools and families in this way.