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\nBunch of years ago, while living in southern California, I had the delight and honor of being the first Scoutmaster of a brand-new troop. These young Scouts\u2014recently graduated from nearby pack\u2014just ate up the Boy Scouting program! We started small; just two patrols of six Scouts each, plus a popular and knowledgeable slightly older Scout who had transferred over from a neighboring troop and was almost immediately elected Senior Patrol Leader.<\/p>\n
On one of our early trips, we spent a weekend at the San Diego Naval Base. Got to eat in the mess hall with the sailors; sleep in the barracks; \u201cfly\u201d simulators for Super Hornets, Corsairs, Chinooks, Vanguards, and other totally cool aircraft; use the outdoor pool; raise the American flag in front of the entire Navy corps on Saturday morning (the Scouts practiced over and over again\u2014all on their own\u2014so they wouldn\u2019t mess up). In all, we were having one heck of a good time!<\/p>\n
Saturday afternoon we had some free time before chow. A basketball court was right outside our barracks. So, digging into my car\u2019s trunk, I tossed the Scouts a basketball, told \u2018em we had about an hour for some play, and turned back to the barracks for a quick \u201cScoutmaster\u2019s battery re-charge\u201d (translation: nap).<\/p>\n
Behind me, squawking and complaining and shouting like crazy! I stopped, turned, and watched. I sized it up in a second. These boys had no idea how to play \u201cstreet” or \u201cpick-up\u201d basketball. That\u2019s right\u2014they had no idea how to just play among themselves without adults supervising their every move!<\/p>\n
Someone much wiser that I observed that \u201cthe soccer, Little League, PAL, and Pop Warner fields are full, and the playgrounds are empty.\u201d Whoever said that was dead right!<\/p>\n
As city kids growing up in the most densely populated U.S. state, none of us played what we today call \u201corganized sports.\u201d We played lots of sports, of course\u2014touch football, \u201cstreet\u201d stickball, baseball, and lots of basketball year-round. Plus other games we invented for ourselves (one we called \u201cMummy\u201d that resembled tag, but with a wicked \u201cWalking Dead\u201d kind of twist to it). But here\u2019s the thing: There were no adults\u2014no parents, no coaches\u2014at all. Nobody \u201csupervised\u201d us. Nobody \u201ctaught\u201d us how to choose up sides, or even what the \u201crules\u201d of the chosen sport or game were (you learned as you went, and the other guys would take you aside and show you how, if you\u2019d just messed up real bad).<\/p>\n
But these Scouts of mine looked like they\u2019d never had the sheer joy of \u201cbeing boys.\u201d Their entire lives up till now had been \u201cprogrammed\u201d with school, soccer, Taekwondo dojos, piano and violin or cello lessons, special after-school language classes (Hebrew, French, Chinese, whatever), and the list goes on.<\/p>\n
\u201cFree time\u201d? A myth or a dream, but hardly a reality in their young lives. And unlikely to change anytime soon\u2026except, perhaps, for the kind of Boy Scout troop they\u2019d just joined. I was determined to give them at least a brief taste of boyhood\u2014a boyhood that their parents had, with all best intentions, stolen from them. (Well, maybe not actually stolen. How can you steal what someone never had?<\/p>\n
So I joined the game, but briefly. The one rule while I played was simple. Andy can pass and move the ball, and set up picks and such, but he can\u2019t shoot. Other than that, this basketball game was more like Australian football\u2014if you can get away with it without drawing blood or knocking anybody down, it\u2019s fair game.<\/p>\n
Took \u2018em maybe ten minutes to catch on. They figured out it wasn\u2019t about \u201crules\u201d\u2014it was about having fun, jostling each other if necessary, scoring, and keeping things fair without \u201cblowing the whistle\u201d on each other every five seconds and getting themselves embroiled in a heated debate for the next twenty minutes about who fouled whom. Instead, they played, and they were happy!<\/p>\n
I left them to start up a new game, all on their own, started back toward the barracks for my re-charge. That\u2019s when I discovered I had a bigger problem on my hands. A couple of parents, who\u2019d been drivers and were staying for the weekend, were hustling straight for the court. I stopped them and asked what they had in mind. \u201cThey need supervision,\u201d they said. \u201cNope. They\u2019re doing just fine,\u201d I said, \u201cso let\u2019s go get a cup o\u2019 java.\u201d They wouldn\u2019t hear of it. \u201cWhat about if they get hurt?\u201d \u201cWhat about the \u2018rules\u2019?\u201d \u201cWhat about\u2026\u201d It was obvious: They had the same problem as their sons. They didn\u2019t know how to just leave \u2018em alone to dope things out for themselves. It took a lot of convincing, and I\u2019m not sure they all bought it, to get them to simply stay away and let their sons be boys.<\/p>\n
Same thing happened on our first overnight. The two patrols had gone to our Quartermaster and checked out used Philmont Trek tents I\u2019d bought (for pennies on the dollar) at the end of last summer. Each tent was complete with stakes, guylines, and rain fly, but with no instructions for set-up. The Senior Patrol Leader and I agreed: Let each patrol figure it out, and let\u2019s keep the parents away from them. The first part was easy. Each patrol cooperated among themselves and after a couple of attempts knew exactly how to set up the tents. But the second part was tough, and most of the parents were pretty furious with me for not showing the Scouts, step-by-step, what to do.<\/p>\n
Map and compass? Same problem. The Scouts were simply told, \u201cIt\u2019s in your handbook. If you really need help call or text your Patrol Leader; Patrol Leaders, you have our Senior Patrol Leader if you need him. We\u2019ll see you next week for our compass-hike.\u201d Parents\u2019 hair was catching fire; steam blew out their ears, or so it seemed.<\/p>\n
And the list went on. Knots and lashings. Basic first aid. Trail signs. Poisonous plants (lots of poison oak where we went hiking). But guess what? The Scouts did it all\u2014and they did it for themselves.<\/p>\n
Meanwhile, at least half their parents thought I was the worst Scoutmaster they could possibly imagine. I overheard \u201cIs he lazy, or is it that he doesn\u2019t know this stuff himself?\u201d more than once. I probably drove them as crazy as they often drove me.<\/p>\n
Then, our troop\u2019s first Camporee\u2014a real Camporee, where patrols compete in Scoutcraft skills (like map-and-compass, knots and lashings, first aid, poisonous plants, trail signs, and of course tent-pitching). Both patrols, none with any Scout ranked higher than Second Class, cleaned everybody\u2019s clocks. They took First Place and Second place (they were within just a couple of points of tying for First!) among some 50 to 60 patrols competing\u2014some made up of all Eagle Scouts.<\/p>\n
Why? How? Simple: They\u2019d learned for and from themselves. They\u2019d learned by not necessarily getting it right the first time, but not giving up and working at it till they got it. They\u2019d learned by cooperating, by learning one another\u2019s strengths and skills, and by figuring out how to \u201cbuddy-up\u201d so that one-plus-one equaled three!<\/p>\n
Scouting, when you have a \u201clazy\u201d Scoutmaster, just might become the last bastion of boys being boys\u2014just like they\u2019re supposed to be.<\/p>\n
Baden-Powell, who was a heck of a lot smarter than me, wrapped it up this way: \u201cNever do for a boy what he can do for himself.\u201d<\/p>\n
Happy Scouting!<\/strong><\/p>\n Andy<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n Have a question? Facing a dilemma? Wondering where to find a BSA policy or guideline? Write to askandybsa@yahoo.com. Please include your name and council. (If you\u2019d prefer to be anonymous, if published, let me know and that\u2019s what we\u2019ll do.)<\/strong><\/p>\n [No. 475 \u2013 2\/23\/2016 \u2013 Copyright \u00a9 Andy McCommish 2016]<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" ________________________________________ Bunch of years ago, while living in southern California, I had the delight and honor of being the first Scoutmaster of a brand-new troop. These young Scouts\u2014recently graduated from nearby pack\u2014just ate up the Boy Scouting program! We started small; just two patrols of six Scouts each, plus a popular and knowledgeable slightly older […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[24],"class_list":["post-1969","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news","tag-24"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1969","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1969"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1969\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1973,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1969\/revisions\/1973"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1969"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1969"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/netcommissioner.com\/askandy\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1969"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}