You call a company. You have an order that went wrong, or a question, or a problem someone should be able to solve. And . . . a bot answers. Or a person who can’t make a real decision answers, reading from a script. You get put on hold. Or someone tells you the solution is coming, and you already know it isn’t.

I lived that all two weeks ago while moving back to Washington, DC, and setting up space here in Dupont Circle. This is a place where our leaders can gather when they come to town to advocate for camps everywhere.

A delivery of 14 pieces of furniture arrived without the two biggest items. The scheduling had been quietly canceled the day before, despite the parking permits and posted signs. After some heated calls, they agreed to deliver it as scheduled the next day. Then, when the guys did come . . . they forgot the couch.

When I tried to get the couch, it was a big runaround of redirects and nonanswers.

That is not a one-off. You have seen this before in every automated system, every customer service line, every “Someone will call you back.” They aren’t going to call you back. They don’t know you, and probably just want you to go away.

I am never going to have a relationship with my furniture company. But I suspect if I had been able to actually walk into the furniture delivery company warehouse and explain my problem, the likelihood of getting the couch would have gone up dramatically.

In some ways, Washington is the same. Without a relationship, you end up with the furniture store version of things.

How Washington Actually Works

That same operational logic runs a lot of things. Including congressional offices. Walk into a congressional office in DC and you’ll find the waiting area is run by interns and young staffers.

Their first job is to answer phones, log the issue at hand, and reassure callers that someone will get back to them. It wouldn’t shock anyone to know that the callback may not come.

Show up in person, though, and the math changes entirely. Being able to sit down with a staffer dramatically increases the likelihood that you will be heard and understood.

Sure, the grassroots channel still matters at scale. If an office gets a hundred or a thousand calls on a topic, they note it, they pay attention, and they realize it’s an issue to be solved.

But a single call from a constituent is one strand of weed in a field that’s being buffeted by winds.

Relationships First

The critical component of effective advocacy in DC is to build relationships before you need them.

You get to know people, visit over time, and form those relationships when you don’t need to ask for help — so when you do need to ask for help, people listen and react.

That is the work. It is why the Camp Caucus needs people physically in DC. It’s why we need couches for people to sit on when they come to do this work.

A camp director in Iowa can’t fly to DC every week. But ACA folks are here, which is the whole point of building it.

Back to the Couch

The couch finally arrived a couple of days ago. It is here, waiting for you to join the conversation and talk about the camp issues you are so passionate about.

We, as camps and camp folks, need to be in DC. Building relationships with the staffers who will pick up the phone when a new idea that could impact camps is circulating on the Hill. Doing the slow work of getting to know people over time. Making sure the field has someone who can be heard.

That is what the Camp Caucus is for.

The couch has a place for you. Come on down, sit back, and let’s talk. We have work to do.

Join the movement. Get updates on the Camp Caucus and learn how you can support camp advocacy in DC.

Scott Brody is ACA’s Government Affairs co-chair and leads the association’s advocacy efforts in Washington, DC. He served as ACA National Board Chair during the COVID-19 crisis, helping guide camps nationwide through safe reopening while securing unprecedented federal support. A camp director for more than 30 years, Scott is Director Emeritus of Camps Kenwood & Evergreen and owner of Everwood Day Camp and Camp Sewataro. He has dedicated his career to advancing the life-changing impact of camp and championing its value on a national stage.