NAMPA, Idaho – Tayler Markland was up late on Nov. 7, 2017.

She was studying for an important test in her AP psychology class, finally going to sleep around midnight.

The next day she was set to sign a national letter of intent with Northwest Nazarene to fulfill her dream of playing college volleyball.

Just two hours after falling asleep, though, her world turned upside down.

Her dad woke her up around 2 a.m. to say her nephew, Khayden, was on life support at an Arizona hospital.

Despite wanting to stay at the hospital, Tayler's mom convinced her to go to school to do her signing.

"I was a mess," she said. "We went and it was done and we went straight back to the hospital. I was just in shock at that time. We were still trying to process what had happened and seeing him was hard."

Khayden, who was born with Down's syndrome, died Nov. 9, after being deprived of oxygen long enough for his heart to stop working. There was no medical reason for that to have happened and a criminal investigation is open against someone who is not the father or mother.

"I kept it pretty tucked away," Tayler said of what happened to her nephew. "I didn't want to talk about it or deal with it. Now, it is more trying to bring awareness to it and remember his memory."
 

Memories

It's the little things Tayler Markland remembers about her nephew the most.

Khayden Markland was born with Down's syndrome, but that didn't stop his aunt from holding him, helping put him to sleep or taking extra care while feeding him.

"He wasn't swallowing properly, so you had to make sure the nipple of the bottle was half full," she said. "He was only 2, so he couldn't do physical things so it was just spending time with him."

The Markland family tried to gain custody of him as Khayden's parents weren't in a good place financially at the time. The youngster spent a few days with Tayler and her parents early on but then went to live with his parents full time.

"He had some health issues," she said. "Down's syndrome babies can have heart problems and issues with their intestines. He needed medical care. His mom wouldn't sign medical waivers for us to take him to the hospital. It just didn't end up working out."

Despite the brevity of Khayden's life, Tayler has fond memories of time spent playing with him and being with him at her brother's house even if she never talked about it and struggled to process what had happened for a few years.

A life change

Tayler had always dreamed of playing NCAA Division I volleyball.

She certainly had the talent, but after looking at schools in Oklahoma and Louisiana she ended up at Northwest Nazarene.

In hindsight, it felt like God was pushing her this way.

Markland didn't grow up in a religious family and came to Nampa intimidated by it, especially dealing with her loss and wondering why God had let it happen.

"I went to Timeout (a student-led worship gathering) and heard a girl's testimony about some sexual abuse she went through and her depression and the hard times and I related to that," she said. "I was crying and trying to pull myself together in the corner. Everyone was worshipping and for the first time in months, I felt like I was being hugged.

"I had no comfort or anything for months and that was my first interaction with God's presence. I felt like He was there with me."



Her freshman year, she lived in a dorm room by herself. Which was a blessing and a curse.

"I was appreciative of having my own space because I was trying to not think about the stuff," she said. "I had a lot of triggers and I would burst out crying and it was hard to stop."

One of those times she burst out crying was during a Cornerstone class with associate professor of art Jamie Tucker.

The class, which is required for all freshmen students and transfers, aims to help students see outside of their bubble.

Tucker's class featured a former Nampa Police Department detective talking about domestic violence and sexual abuse.

"I followed her out of the room and told her she could go if she wanted," Tucker said after Markland left the class in tears. "She came to my office later and shared about the little boy and I told her I am happy to listen, but I'm not the expert. I introduced her to the Family Justice Center."

That introduction turned out to be providential as it set Markland on a path to a new major and calling in life.

Making a Difference

Markland came to NNU as a pre-med major, but after hearing Detective Angela Weekes speak three times at her Cornerstone class the volleyball player changed her mind.

"She told me she had an interest in law enforcement," said Weekes, whose daughter lived on the same wing as Markland their freshman year. "Tayler is somebody that I felt had a lot to share. Just who she was as a person."

Weekes helped Markland get connected to Camp Hope, an adventure-based, therapeutic camp for children who have been victims or have been exposed to family violence. Once a year, Camp Hope heads to Trinity Pines Campground in Cascade, Idaho, for activities ranging from zip lining to whitewater rafting.

"It's a way to challenge them so they can develop belief in themselves and others in relationships and then have hope for the future," said Jenny Perry, a co-director of Camp Hope and NNU alum.

Markland, who is now a social work major with a minor in criminal justice, has gone to Camp Hope the last two summers.

"We do the zip line and they are terrified – I was scared to go up," she said. "We say we'll get five steps and then see if they can get one more. So, challenging themselves to know they can still trust people.

"My nephew definitely impacted a big part of me participating. I have a big soft spot for that, especially because I've had a good life. Working with kids who have to experience things like that … I just want to help them out."
 

Markland's volunteer work has impressed those around her. Weekes doesn't recommend just anyone be a counselor at Camp Hope, but she could tell from her interactions with her that she was someone the kids could benefit from.

To work at Camp Hope requires not just empathy and a desire to help, but the ability to listen to potentially devastating stories and react in a positive, loving way.

"I think it speaks volumes to the maturity of those who want to volunteer knowing that something like sexual abuse could come," Perry said. "To have someone come alongside that doesn't care about what may have happened in their past, but just to love them and offer them encouragement and sees their potential is huge.

"It definitely takes someone who wants to be that hope giver."

And that is precisely who Tayler Markland wants to be.