Another rainy day in Maine so I’m again sitting on the screened in porch thinking about how to write about today’s #stampoftheday, which, because it honors the Boy Scouts of America, is producing a range of reactions including nostalgia, anger, revulsion, and puzzlement.
A mid-century classic that was the first of several honoring the Boy Scouts, the stamp was issued on June 30, 1950, the opening day of the 1950 Boy Scout Jamboree in Valley Forge. The stamp features three Scouts of varying ages. The Statue of Liberty is in the background, reflecting the 1950 Scout theme “Strengthening the Army of Liberty.”

And that theme – which is so resonant of the era’s anti-Communist rhetoric (and the fact that the stamp was issued a little more than four month after Senator Joseph McCarthy launched his infamous witch hunts with a speech in Wheeling, WV) – captures many of the things that have always been troubling about the Boy Scouts. At its worst, the Boy Scouts have been a militarist, hierarchical, patriarchal institution that has discouraged challenges to authority, encouraged petty patriotism, fostered the worst of macho cultures, discriminated against gay people and blacks, and protected people who preyed children. In many respects, it has exemplified the cruel faux patriotism that has plagued – and continues to plague – our country and some of its so-called leaders.

I know all of this. I was a Cub Scout and a Boy Scout. I’m an Eagle Scout and I spent two summers as a counselor at a Boy Scout camp in northwest New Jersey (where I learned a few things about responsibility, developed some important skills, learned a few vices and did a few mean, but not heinous, things that I now regret). Like any good Scout, at some point I learned the lyrics to “Be Prepared” the wonderful song by Lehrer’s (which he introduced by noting: “You know, of all the songs I have ever sung, that is the one I’ve had the most requests not to.”) As Lehrer famously advised:

“Be prepared! That’s the Boy Scouts’ marching song
Be prepared! As through life you march along
Be prepared to hold your liquor pretty well
Don’t write naughty words on walls if you can’t spell

Be prepared! To hide that pack of cigarettes
Don’t make book if you cannot cover bets
Keep those reefers hidden where you’re sure
That they will not be found
And be careful not to smoke them
When the scoutmaster’s around
For he only will insist that it be shared
Be prepared!…”

And yet, despite everything I know about the Boy Scouts as an institution, I also know that being a Scout was a positive and formative experience in my life, thanks to the fact that I was fortunate to have been a member of Troop 162, which was led by some remarkable men who regularly gave up the comforts of home to spend weekends (and summer weeks) in the woods with the boys who were lucky enough (or smart enough) to be members of that troop. I’m thinking particularly of Jack Hull and John Alsop – who exemplified the best of what the Boy Scouts have to offer. They voluntarily took on the task of teaching (and showing) a bunch of pre-adolescent and adolescent boys how to be responsible. They made sure we learned how to tie useful knots, like the taut-line hitch that I regularly use to secure tomato plants and other things. They organized and took us on a variety of adventures: wilderness camping in the Adirondacks, canoeing in Canada, and backpacking on the Appalachian Trail, to name but a few. In doing all that, they taught us how to camp, how to take on adventures and how to enjoy the outdoors in responsible ways. And as I grew a bit older, they also provided the gift of taking me seriously, listening to my ideas even though we often disagreed (Jack, I thought, was somewhere to the right of Attila the Hun in some of his political views.)

The boys who were members of Troop 162 weren’t the most popular, the smartest, the best athletes, or the most talented kids our town. We were geeks and nerds and wonks, the usual assortment of misfits you can find in every junior high school (or middle school). But we were a tight-knit group, although we drifted apart (or I drifted away from them) when we were in high school and I’ve long since lost touch with all them. Despite our distance and differences, I think we are still connected. Years ago, at my 10th high school reunion, I found myself sitting in a back room with a bunch of those boys. We spent a long time reconnecting and reminiscing about our time together as Boy Scouts and the men who had guided us. I felt surprisingly close to those people that night (I can’t recall who was there, I think perhaps Scott Johnson and Neal McBurnett but I’m sure there were others). And as the conversation went on, I recognized the gift that I had been given by people like Jack Hull and John Alsop.

So, still sitting here on a screened in porch watching the rain (and remembering an epic week of rain that we endured as a troop at a wilderness camp in the Adirondacks owned by our local Boy Scout council), I’m left to say that I’m deeply disappointed in the organization called the Boy Scouts of America, in large measure because it failed to live up to the ideals it made me learn and recite from memory. All these years later, I can’t remember them all. I know that a Boy Scout is supposed to be trustworthy, loyal, and maybe brave.

Fortunately, Google can help me out. We were (and are) supposed to be: “Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean, and Reverent.”

You can do a lot worse than trying to follow these guidelines, especially in these difficult and challenging times.

Stay well, be safe, fight for justice, and work for peace.