An Eagle Scout?!?

1983

I was a Boy Scout. I started when young, with the Cub Scouts. I went all the way through the BSA, becoming an Eagle Scout, and a leader in the Order of the Arrow, which is an honor group within the Boy Scouts, to which you must be elected by your peers to join, and then becoming an Explorer, and finally, an Assistant Scoutmaster. Now, if you were not involved with Boy Scouts, those terms might not mean much to you. Suffice it to say that if it could be done in the Boy Scouts, at that time, I did it.

Some of it was fun. Some of it was challenging. Some of it was boring. Some of it seemed foolish. Some of it seemed pointless. Some of it was amazing. But through it all, I found myself feeling, over and over, that I was a fish out of the water. I felt awkward, at times exposed and vulnerable, at times embarrassed, at times weird. I am not sure I much felt like I belonged. But I tried so very hard to fit in. The worst thing of all that was that though I often felt like a fish out of water, I felt like I had to be successful in the Boy Scouts. I had to. My brother was in the same troop and excelling. My Dad had been a scout. It was expected of me

Boys to Men

The Boy Scouts of America (now Scouts BSA) in my childhood was what made boys into men. Camping, rappelling, hiking, rock climbing, canoeing, archery, rifle shooting, plant identification, tracking, all sorts of things. When I was young, I wanted so very badly to fit in, to belong, to become the man I was supposed to be becoming. Nothing else seemed to be in the cards for me. I excelled in the Boy Scouts, earning the highest awards I could get.

But over and over, it seemed to be a fool’s errand. Summer camp was especially awful. Yes, that’s the word, awful. I had to stay in a tent with a boy. Between that and the pool and the shower house and the stupid skinny dipping or shower games, I was so uncomfortable and felt so exposed. I had no choice in those situations, but my hands were shaking the whole time, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at anyone. I tried really hard not to participate in the roughhousing, and so forth. So, everyone else got to play "let’s laugh at the weird kid".

I guess the thing that most pervaded those situations was the feeling of shame. I felt like I was a failure at becoming a man. I felt like something must be wrong with me for how I felt about stripping in front of the guys when they all just yanked off their clothes.

I very much enjoyed hiking, and many of the activities were interesting. I liked being challenged. I liked learning. But I didn’t like being there, with the guys, like that. The feeling of being out of place was so strong. But at the same time, the need to work harder and harder to become the man I was supposed to become was pounding on me. The feeling that I was failing at doing what it seemed everyone around me was doing so very well pounded on me even worse. So, I worked at it even harder.

More Boy Than the Other Boys

When I achieved Eagle Scout in 1983, there was a lot of attention. Honestly, the world was a different place then than now. There was a big public ceremony, held at the church I attended, and I dislike being the center of attention. Several respected people from the church, from the Boy Scouts, and from the community got up and talked about what a great young man I was, an example to other boys, and then they read a congratulatory letter from the President of the United States, Ronald Reagan. The theme through it all was that I was an example for other boys to emulate, that I was more boy than the other boys around me!

Then it was time for me to get up and talk. Have I mentioned that I don’t like being the center of attention? But there didn't seem to be a choice. Anyway, I got up to talk, and my hands were shaking, and my voice was shaky and weird. People told me later they thought I was going to cry. That’s because I really was about to cry. Not because I was feeling so happy and proud. No. That would have been nice, actually.

I didn’t feel like I was any of those things they were saying about me. I didn’t want to be an example for boys. I didn’t even want to be a boy! Heck, I was amazed they let me in the Order of the Arrow, it was for boys! Then my brain heard those thoughts echoing in my head, standing up front in that church, and said to itself “wait, what?!?!?” and went to the blue screen, and my mouth froze, and it took me a few moments to shake those thoughts off and reboot. My Dad told me later I was smart, pausing to gather my thoughts before speaking. Yeah. That’s what I was. Smart. Pacing myself, you see. Thinking before I spoke. That's what I was doing. Sure. 

Oh Yes, I'm the Great Pretender

Not for the last time in my life, I felt like I was pretending. On a day that was supposed to be the crowning achievement of my life to that point, all I felt was that I wanted to be anywhere else but there. I was standing there, at the church pulpit, a few hundred people looking at me, and I wanted to cry. But I couldn’t do that, no matter what. There was no way in the world I could do that. So, I was the boy I was supposed to be. I talked.

It was awful.