Today we’d like to introduce you to Kathryn Tschiegg.
Hi Kathryn, so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
I never set out to start an organization—but I did set out with a plan.
My journey began more than 45 years ago in Honduras during my Peace Corps service as a nurse. There, I witnessed extraordinary resilience alongside overwhelming need. What struck me most was not just the lack of resources, but the pattern I saw repeatedly: short-term mission teams arriving with good intentions but no continuity, no coordination, and no long-term plan. Care was episodic. Needs remained unmet. Systems were not strengthened.
That experience shaped me profoundly—and it made me tenacious about doing things differently.
When I returned to the United States, I worked as a critical care nurse, deepening my clinical skills while carrying a growing conviction that sustainable change required structure, planning, and long-term commitment. I began developing a strategic vision rooted in what I had learned on the ground: partnership with local professionals, capacity building, and consistent presence—not charity without accountability.
In 1993, that vision became Central American Medical Outreach (CAMO). From the very beginning, CAMO was guided by a strategic plan—not a reactionary effort, but a deliberate model designed to meet real needs over time. We focused on moving donated medical supplies efficiently, supporting local hospitals, training Honduran professionals, and bringing international volunteers to work alongside local counterparts, not replace them.
CAMO grew intentionally, responding to identified gaps in care—specialty medical services, women’s health, nutrition, prosthetics, education, equipment repair, and community development. Every expansion was driven by listening to Honduran leaders and by a commitment to sustainability over dependency.
Today, CAMO is a bi-national organization serving hundreds of thousands of people each year through comprehensive medical services and capacity-building programs and building a Foundation in Honduras with 64 employees, a women’s shelter with 44 beds, a trade school, a community center/gym, the second-largest public health center in Honduras, and investing 1.5 million dollars in infrastructure at the hospital where I served as a Peace Corps Volunteer. What began as one nurse’s Peace Corps experience—combined with clinical expertise, strategic planning, and persistence—has become a long-term partnership built on dignity, accountability, and hope.
At its core, CAMO remains what it was from the start: faith expressed through disciplined action, a refusal to accept short-term fixes, and a belief that lasting change happens when you commit to walking with people for the long haul.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
No—this has not been a smooth road. And it’s important to say that honestly, because the struggles are part of what shaped both me and CAMO.
As I describe in Hope for the Forgotten: My Unlikely Journey, the challenges began long before CAMO ever existed.
From the very start, I faced personal and professional resistance. As a young woman pursuing nursing and leadership, I was told—explicitly—that I was not “smart enough,” that my expectations were unrealistic, and that my role should be limited. Those early experiences of being underestimated stayed with me and later became fuel rather than barriers.
During my Peace Corps service in Honduras, the struggle was far deeper and more painful. I worked in an under-resourced public hospital where preventable deaths were routine, supplies were scarce, and I witnessed levels of suffering that left permanent marks. One of the most defining moments of my life was losing dozens of newborns in a single month—children who would have lived had basic care been available. Those experiences broke me open emotionally and spiritually and forced me to wrestle with questions of faith, injustice, and endurance.
When CAMO began, the struggles did not ease—they changed form.
There was chronic financial uncertainty, years of operating without guaranteed funding, and the constant tension of saying “yes” to overwhelming need while knowing resources were finite. There were times when one delayed donation or one failed shipment meant a life lost, and could have shut everything down. I often carried the weight alone, responsible not just for vision, but for payroll, logistics, compliance, and relationships across two countries.
There were also systemic and cultural challenges—navigating corruption, bureaucracy, political instability, and natural disasters, including Hurricane Mitch, which wiped out entire communities and forced CAMO to respond far beyond its original scope. That crisis tested every part of our organization and required rapid decisions that would shape CAMO’s long-term direction.
Leadership itself was a struggle. Being a founder meant learning—often the hard way—how to build teams, let go of control, recover from betrayal, and continue after deep disappointment. There were seasons of exhaustion, loneliness, and doubt, when quitting would have been easier than continuing.
But each struggle clarified the mission.
They reinforced why CAMO could not be a short-term solution, why planning and accountability mattered, and why dignity-based, long-term partnership had to remain non-negotiable. The hardships refined the model, strengthened resilience, and deepened my conviction that faith is not proven in comfort—but in perseverance.
So no, the road has not been smooth. But every obstacle became part of the foundation. And looking back, I can say with confidence: the struggles did not derail the mission—they shaped it.
As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
My work centers on building sustainable health and education systems in under-resourced communities, particularly in Honduras. I am the founder and long-time executive leader of Central American Medical Outreach (CAMO), a bi-national organization that delivers comprehensive medical care, education, and capacity-building through long-term partnerships rather than short-term aid.
What I do is both strategic and deeply hands-on. I lead organizational vision, governance, and long-term planning, while also remaining directly involved in program design, medical services, logistics, training, donor relations, and international volunteer integration. My background as a nurse—including critical care—has shaped how I lead: clinically informed, systems-oriented, and grounded in accountability and outcomes.
I specialize in sustainable, dignity-based humanitarian work. From the beginning, I rejected episodic mission models in favor of a counterpart approach—bringing U.S. and international professionals to work alongside Honduran professionals, strengthening local capacity rather than replacing it. This model now spans multiple specialties, including women’s health, pediatrics, nutrition, audiology, prosthetics, pathology, and specialty surgical care, as well as education, training, and biomedical equipment repair.
I am known for tenacity, long-term commitment, and execution. CAMO did not grow quickly or easily—it grew intentionally. Programs were added only when there was demonstrated need, local partnership, and a plan for sustainability. That same discipline has guided everything from shipping and warehousing medical supplies, to developing national training programs, to managing complex bi-national finances and governance structures.
What I am most proud of is not a single program or building, but the infrastructure that now exists where none did before: systems that function year after year, local professionals who are trained and leading, and communities that have access to care that was once unreachable. I am proud that CAMO has endured—through natural disasters, political instability, financial uncertainty, and leadership transitions—without losing its mission or integrity.
What sets me apart from others is the combination of clinical expertise, strategic planning, and lived experience. I did not design this work from a distance. It was shaped by years inside public hospitals, by witnessing preventable loss, by learning what fails as well as what works. I bring both compassion and rigor to the table—faith expressed through disciplined action.
At its core, my work is about showing up consistently, listening deeply, planning carefully, and refusing to accept short-term fixes for long-term problems. That commitment—to people, to partnership, and to sustainability—is what defines my work and continues to drive everything I do.
Are there any books, apps, podcasts or blogs that help you do your best?
I am not driven by a single app, book, or podcast. My formation has been far more foundational—and practical.
Much of what guides me today was learned early in life. My father was a carpenter and a truck driver, and by working alongside him in my youth I learned the discipline of hard work, problem-solving, responsibility, and finishing what you start. From my mother, a homemaker, I learned by watching and helping—patience, stewardship, attention to detail, and the quiet strength required to care for others consistently.
My ethical and spiritual framework was shaped through Bible-based teaching in the church, not as ideology, but as guidance—principles that emphasized integrity, service, humility, and accountability. Those values continue to inform both my personal life and my leadership.
Professionally, when faced with new challenges, I am a deliberate and disciplined learner. I research what is relevant at the time using a wide range of resources—academic literature, field experience, professional peers, and diverse viewpoints. I intentionally seek more than one perspective, because ethical decision-making requires listening first, understanding context, and resisting simplistic answers.
I am especially cautious of groupthink, which I believe is one of the most dangerous threats to sound, unbiased decision-making. Instead, I prioritize independent analysis, moral clarity, and long-term consequences over convenience or consensus.
Ultimately, the resources that help me do my best work are not tools I consume passively, but principles I live by: humility to learn, courage to question, and a commitment to choose the most ethical path with integrity—especially when it is the harder one
Pricing:
- https://shop.camo.org/shop
- https://shop.camo.org/product/ISBN-13-979-8218285579/hope-for-the-forgottenmy-unlikely-journey-by-kathryn-m-tschiegg
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.camo.org/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/camobringshope/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/camobringshope
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/company/11011405/
- Twitter: https://x.com/central70425
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@camousa9583






