Good Housekeeping

Finding Her Own Path
April 2002
By Beth Johnson

The following is a reprint of the article, provided courtesy of Good Housekeeping Magazine

She's put a painful past behind her. Now Jackie Danforth, daughter of news legend Barbara Walters, is helping teenage girls at risk…and embracing her family ties.

Driving through the beautiful lake-and-pine scenery of northeastern Maine, Jackie Danforth talks warmly about the "great kids" at New Horizons Wilderness Camp, which she started last year on 294 acres an hour and a half outside of Bangor. New Horizons offers help-and a "temporary time-out"-for troubled teenage girls, the kind who drink, physically lash out at their parents, or run away from home. Not everyone would call these girls great. But Jackie is enthusiastic about her charges and hopeful about their futures. More than anything, she understands them. Listening to this charming, animated young woman, it's hard to believe she once struggled mightily with self-destructive behavior. But she did.

Raised in New York City, Jackie, now 33, is the only child of celebrated news woman Barbara Walters. Adopted as a baby by Walters and her then husband, theatre producer Lee Guber, Jackie led a privileged life-complete with a French nanny, private schools and far-flung travels. "But at home," Jackie insists, "we had a very normal life." She always knew how much her parents adored her, yet never felt she fit in to their high powered world. (The couple divorced when Jackie was two, and Guber died when she was 18.) "A part of me always though that maybe I was meant to be on a farm milking cows," she says. "And I always had to worry if people just liked me for who my mother was."

By the time Jackie reached adolescence, her unique set of problems-being adopted, having a celebrity mother and divorced parents, attending a highly competitive Manhattan school-sent her into a downward spiral. She acted out in almost every way that would horrify a parent: taking drugs, drinking, sneaking out (at age 12, Jackie says, she partied the night away at Studio 54), and running away. "I didn't know about the drugs." Walters says now. "I just knew she was sleeping too much. But by the time she was fourteen, we knew she needed help-and we needed help.

Ultimately, her parents enrolled her-"literally kicking and screaming," Jackie says-in a no frills boarding school in Idaho that focused on emotional growth. Though packing off her daughter "filled me with despair," Walters says, she knew it was the right decision. "At the school I wasn't a celebrity. I was a parent. And it was a relief in a way, because I saw there were children from all kinds of families who needed help." Jackie now says that three years in the rural, tough-love atmosphere "saved my life."

After leaving Idaho, Jackie spent 12 years in the Pacific Northwest, living a quiet life and holding down a variety of jobs. At age 31, she returned to the East Coast to be closer to her mother and to attend college in Maine. Before long, she met and became engaged to Mark Danforth, a Maine native who works as a hunting and fishing guide to vacationing corporate executives. "Mark is very dear," Walters enthuses. "And he looks like the Marlboro Man. He and I take walks through Central Park, and he tells me the name of every duck, every tree.

One day, roughly two years ago, while hiking through the rugged hills of her new home state, Jackie hit upon an idea for turning her painful early experience into something positive. That evening, she told Mark that she wanted to start a program for troubled girls similar to the one that had helped her as a teen. "I had great parents who loved me and who went through hell for me," Jackie reflects. "I wanted to give that sort of dedication back to other kids who needed it."

Soon after, Jackie quit college and threw herself full throttle into the arduous task of starting the New Horizons Wilderness Program from scratch-obtaining licensing and insurance, buying land, hiring staff, creating a Web site, and flying to educational conferences to introduce her program to the school counselors and teachers who now recommend girls to the camp. She and Mark-whom she wed in March 2001 in a white miniskirt and knee-high hiking boots-even designed some of the buildings and built the girl's bunk beds.

Still, her mother's first reaction to the plan was less than enthusiastic. "I thought it was nuts!" Walters says. "And she did not want me to be a partner; she did not want my accountants or lawyers to help. She wanted to be completely independent in this." So independent that Jackie rounded up a group of investors on her own to fund the program's launch. The New Horizons tuition (roughly $2,800 per week, per girl) covers the salaries of staff (all highly qualified Maine residents, including certified counselors and therapists) as well as the cost of food, equipment, a medical staff, and even clothes (high quality all-weather gear). Jackie refuses to pay herself a salary.

Unlike those boot camp-type programs that often receive negative press, New Horizons avoids deprivation or harsh punishment. "We assume these girls are good at heart." Jackie explains. The food is healthful and plentiful ("You can't concentrate on the inner work you need to do if you're worried about an empty stomach"), the camping equipment top-notch, the staff caring. But the program isn't cushy.

Once they arrive, the girls-usually seven at a time- are watched over round the clock by four certified wilderness guides who live at the camp. Depending on the season, the teens engage in a variety of outdoor activities, which include canoeing, cross country skiing, even sawing wood-all designed to boost their self confidence and resourcefulness. There are twice-daily group therapy sessions wherever they are-even on a hiking trail or canoeing trip. The teens camp either outdoors or, when the temperature drops, in the heated cabins. While a girl is in residence (usually seven to eight weeks at a time) the staff works with her school to make sure she doesn't fall behind with her classwork.

Jackie, who lives near Bangor, plays the role of big sister to these girls, visiting them several times a week and sharing her experiences and hard-won insight. Today, when she approaches a clearing where half a dozen on them are lunching around a campfire, excited squeals of "Jackie's here!" immediately fill the chilly air. Soon the girls are joking about needed a shower and boasting about putting up their own tent.

Each of these girls arrived at New Horizons angry and scared. But after a few weeks, they have started to change. "It's not like you just work on your own problems," says Monica, 14, who crashed her mother's car while drunk and has already been to Hazelden drug rehab in Minnesota. "When the other girls read their letters from home, it gives you perspective. It makes it easier to understand why my parents get so worried." Rachel, a 13-year-old who ran away from home repeatedly after her parent's divorced, says, "When I first got here, I thought the hiking and the group meeting about attitude were pointless. But now I see how they're helping me, and I realize why this is such a great place."

After a girl finishes her stay, parents and staff consult about the next step-whether it's best for her to return to her old environment or, like Jackie, go to a special school. Jackie hopes that eventually she'll be able to offer a full time school on the premises. In the meantime, she's working to offer scholarships, seminars for parents and refresher courses for girls who have completed the program.

Still, Jackie knows there is no quick fix. "Even after I went to the Idaho school, I had bad times. I had crying fits. I though about suicide," she admits. When she was living out West in her 20's, Jackie was uncomfortable revealing her mother's identity to others and would tell acquaintances that Mom was a teacher back East. But the two remained close. "All during this time, Jackie and I would be talking on the phone three times a week, and [then] I'd read that we were estranged." Walters says. "It was very hard, but I wasn't about to comment on it because I knew Jackie wanted her anonymity."

Jackie is finally willing to discuss her past openly because, she says, "Now I have a mission in life. My mother is a hard act to follow: she makes a difference in people's lives everyday, thousands of people, I may not make a difference to as many people as she has but I do want to feel that I'm giving back."

When each girl leaves New Horizons, Jackie giver her a copy of Dr. Seuss's Oh, the Places You'll Go to remind her of all the opportunities that lie ahead. One person in particular knows how far Jackie has come. "Isn't it amazing what she's done?" Walters says almost giddily. "I just can't get over it! People will say to me, 'Oh, you've accomplished so much' or 'You've interviewed this person or that person', and instead I think, Look at what I have in my life! I have Jackie!"

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