Scouting Was the Only Agreeable Thing

At age 10, in December just before Christmas, we could not find my mother. When we came home, we expected a warm, bright, pre-Christmas glow in the house, and dinner to be soon upon the table. What we saw was darkness. My mother had reached the breaking point—long after many others would have broken—and she left my father. Permanently. We knew it. It was over. And it was a relief… well, mostly. She also left my brother and me, but we hoped that would change. But she was now safe from the abuses and repeatedly broken promises. And she knew we would be safe, as we hadn’t been targeted before, and the extended family seemed to shield us from harm. That shield didn’t extend to her, due to some previous generation’s thinking about marriage and spousal roles. Now she was gone, whereabouts unknown, but definitely safe.

That Christmas was hard. We eventually found her with distant relatives who only unwittingly shielded her because she was careful of the details. The following divorce was ugly, protracted, manipulative, angry, scary. They sank their funds into legal teams and courts just to punch and jab at each other with litigation. My brother and I were pawns—items to be possessed: my mother wanted to care for us, but barely had the money to do so, while my father wanted to retain us so that he could be winning in the moment, despite spending little time with us.

Throughout these stormy times, there was one single thing that they both could agree upon: My participation in Scouting. They would quibble about missed visitations due to community sports games or school trips or wanting to go to a weekend party with my teenage friends’ families. They kept tally about where and how often I brought my girlfriend over for dinner. But first, it was OK to do the daytime service projects and hikes with the troop, then OK to do the weekend camporees and trips. The weeklong summer camp was fine as long as I came home to see both of them immediately. Then came election to the Order of the Arrow. My Scoutmaster was the Lodge’s cook, and he told me while wearing his apron during the evening cracker barrel after I received my Ordeal sash, “Start campaigning for Chapter Chief, the election is tomorrow, and you’re a natural.” This Scoutmaster drove me and others to this Ordeal weekend, as he had for me and others to all of our trips and events. He heard me talk. He knew what I was leaving behind every time we drove away.

I was elected Chapter Chief, my first-ever elected position, and suddenly Scoutmaster and Chapter Advisor and Lodge Advisor gave me fliers and schedules of even more weekends that I needed to attend. I needed to attend trainings like National Leadership Seminar, Junior Leader Training, then National Junior Leader Instructor Camp, then Order of the Arrow Trail Crew (with a council campership), then National Scout Jamboree (with a partial campership and my money saved from odd jobs). These adults just kept finding more events that I needed to attend. I now realize they subtly coached me on what to say to my parents: I made a commitment, this will help me as a leader, this will help me with college applications, I need to do this so that I can teach it to others, look at these certificates and plaques—I’m making a difference.

At my third year of summer camp, I deeply wanted to be the Camper of the Week. I did everything I could to be outstanding—Scout spirit, hard merit badges, keeping my troop organized, cooperating with other troops. The prize was ultimate (for me): an invitation to remain at the camp for the rest of the summer as a Counselor in Training (CIT). This was a direct pathway to being selected as a camp staff member in future years. I don’t believe anyone really knew how important these opportunities would be for me. They probably just saw, without knowing any backstory, a competitive and somewhat braggadocious teen boy who considered himself a “super scout” trying to stand-out. I was crushed when they named the other kid. I had a few tears while standing at attention in the parade field.

Then the nature director, a super-cool twentysomething guy who had lived in Thailand as an exchange student and taken Wood Badge there, walked-up to me and said, “Go ask the Camp Director for a campership, and stay here for next week as a provisional Scout. You can stay with my friend’s troop. It will be the best week ever.” The camp director approved, saying, “I was hoping you’d ask.” He helped me call my mom and dad: “Nope, no cost to you, it has been covered and we’d love to have him.” My mom asked about my dirty laundry… and the Camp Director said he’ll have the staff help me at the laundromat. Saturday was the off-day for the staff, and they let me tag along. It was the most fun I’d ever had. The area directors on the staff told me on Sunday morning how to have a great week at camp… fewer merit badges and more experiences. I did as they advised, and I had an even better week at camp. I still remember the tingly elation I felt when they called my name as the Camper of the Week in front of the entire camp. When my mom arrived the Camp Director was by my side. He told her great things about me. She was happy, and would bring me back in 22 hours to begin as a CIT. During the car ride she said, “I’m so happy you found your escape.”

Scouting was the most stable environment available to me throughout my youth. Junior high school and high school are socially awkward for most everybody. I don’t know if I was targeted for ridicule and name-calling more or less than anyone else. I do know that Scouting is where I was given the opportunity to excel, to lead, to manage, and to give without threat. Scouting is where I overcame obstacles in my home life that I now know to dramatically change the lifepath of young people. Scouting, for me, created new ideals and new goals for living, working, and being. My Scouting story is one of resilience, of safety, of support, and of community. I am committed to giving future youth the opportunity for resilience that was given to me.

Submitted by: Joshua Kirby of State College, PA