The lamentations of an architecture student, the joy of a christian, and the laughs of a guy who just likes life.
Today, Brad gave us another round of his conversational questions. We went over the trouble we got in K through 12. It wasn't very enjoyable. Looking back, all the trouble I was in was due to the teacher's misunderstanding of an event or blowing it out of proportion.
Sometime during the questions, the conversation shifted to Boy Scouts. Zach (who happens to be an Eagle) started talking about he and some guys used to mess with the scrawny guy. And then all the supressed memories came flooding back. Looking at them, I find it quite obvious that I didn't like Boy Scouts. I was the scrawny guy that everybody picked on. I have vivid memories of being put in a box and kicked around. They ripped my tent during a camping trip in the winter. The list goes on.
They always made us recite the Scout Law. It talks about how scouts are friendly, kind, etc, but they didn't seem to have a problem with violating their promise before the night was over.
Camp was horrible. No moral support from anyone (quite the opposite), I had no idea what I was even supposed to be doing, and I feared for my life on a regular basis. I do, however, remember one good event. Walking back from the river one morning, after nearly drowning, one of the older scouts actually walked alongside me for a while and told me that I did a pretty good job out there. I barely acknowledged him the whole way back to my tent, but that right there meant the world to me. That admist all that, someone took the time to try and cheer me up. That guy deserved his rank. Not by proving his survival skills, or being able to tie thirty different knots, but by seeing someone in need, and fulfilling it.
Just a little food for thought. Hope that inspires you to go out there and help somebody.
: )
Sometime during the questions, the conversation shifted to Boy Scouts. Zach (who happens to be an Eagle) started talking about he and some guys used to mess with the scrawny guy. And then all the supressed memories came flooding back. Looking at them, I find it quite obvious that I didn't like Boy Scouts. I was the scrawny guy that everybody picked on. I have vivid memories of being put in a box and kicked around. They ripped my tent during a camping trip in the winter. The list goes on.
They always made us recite the Scout Law. It talks about how scouts are friendly, kind, etc, but they didn't seem to have a problem with violating their promise before the night was over.
Camp was horrible. No moral support from anyone (quite the opposite), I had no idea what I was even supposed to be doing, and I feared for my life on a regular basis. I do, however, remember one good event. Walking back from the river one morning, after nearly drowning, one of the older scouts actually walked alongside me for a while and told me that I did a pretty good job out there. I barely acknowledged him the whole way back to my tent, but that right there meant the world to me. That admist all that, someone took the time to try and cheer me up. That guy deserved his rank. Not by proving his survival skills, or being able to tie thirty different knots, but by seeing someone in need, and fulfilling it.
Just a little food for thought. Hope that inspires you to go out there and help somebody.
: )
2 Responses to “Why I don't like Boy Scouts”
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About me
- I'm Eric
- From Gallatin, TN
- I'm a computer science major at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville. I hang out at the Christian Student Center alot, and I like hanging out with friends.
- My profile
Wow. Matt's story was hideous.
I've been lurking on your blog, Eric, ever since your mom told me about your ambitious anagram project (very cool).
I'm an eagle scout, too, not because I wanted to be, but because my dad always regretting not getting his eagle. I did the whole thing -- from Tiger Cubs on up.
The thing about my troop was that most of the kids were bad boys whose dad put them in Scouts to straighten them up. So there was always some volatility there. I was often the small guy, but I was clever enough to earn the big kids' respect (e.g., by sneaking in the woods at night and scaring the oompa loompa out of them).
The Jamborees were the pits, though, because there were all these boys there from all over the region who didn't know me. One night a gang of them accosted me and stole my brand new Boy Scout hat. I never did replace it, but I never will forget it.
So, Eric, why not check out my new blog (brenhughes.blogspot.com) and homepage (www.brenhughes.com)? I've always thought we had a lot in common (like our literary pursuits), so you might some cerebrum-stroking goodness in there!
Brennan
Thanks for adding me to your Friends' Blogs list, Eric. It's an honor. I wish I could figure out how to do it for my blog.