Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Turkey in the Eagle's Nest

Tonight I attended a Court of Honor and was obliged to join the "Eagle's Nest" where all those valiant in scouting to the rank of Eagle reside in glory. But some like me perch in shame.

Behind nearly every Eagle is a great threat. Here are some I've heard over the years:
  • No driver's license till Eagle
  • Can't participate in a sport or activity
  • Denial of college support/tuition
  • General shunning from parents outside of legally required support
  • Pouring honey in hair while asleep (no joke)
I come from a line of Scouting. For my father, Scouts was like sports for me. Going to Philmont was like the Superbowl in Dallas with the big screen. His father got the Silver Beaver and by heaven, his offspring would have their Eagle. When he tragically died on the Klondike, my Eagle became not just a goal, but an unbreakable blood oath. So I add my threat to the list (never issued to me, but clearly implied by the Universe):
  • DON'T SHAME THE MEMORY OF YOUR DECEASED FATHER WHO DIED IN THE ACT OF SCOUTING.
Even a boneheaded teenager can get that one... Barely. I got my life rank by the time I was 13 and it only took me a mere 5 years to complete my project and get my Eagle 2 days before turning 18. I pause now to thank the multiple leaders who made Herculean efforts to get my project approved, completed and written up. And it all starts as a cub scout getting their Bobcat badge and being flipped upside down.

A taste of things to come?
I think if the parents did over 70% of the work, the Eagle award should be presented while the father has the son in an excruciating arm bar. Then, the mother pins the badge directly into their son's flesh. The screams of agony would be like the birth of a new baby Eagle.  

I was free from shaming my father's memory, but I was now bound to a life of being a Turkey in the Eagle's Nest. Can I tie a bowline hitch? Throw a hatchet through a log at 25 yards? Repel dysentery through sheer intestinal fortitude? No.

I am a disgrace.

I don't own a scout uniform anymore. I don't fancy wearing hankies around my neck. I'm not sure I can name all of the ranks correctly in order right now or recite the scout law. I know many non-Mormons find our approach to rushing kids through the Eagle (such as me) disgraceful. So why do I sit in the Eagle's nest? My mother worked too hard for me not to. If I rejected the nest, I would be rejecting the sacrifice of my parents.

Will I impose the Eagle standard on my own son? No.

I will encourage him and help, but no threats. I declare this here and now in the presence of you three readers!!

Why? If he gets his Eagle, I want him to be able to hold his head up in the Eagle's Nest with clear eyes and a full heart. Able wrestle a bear into submission, lash massive towers together with elaborate knots and eat things that would make a Billy-goat puke. The way a real Eagle should be.

3 comments:

Collette Jeffs said...

I guess i am one of the three readers :).I think that is good u won't push Gator, encouraging is better

Daniel said...

I think if you talked to Stone about dad as young kid, you'd be surprised (or may already know) he considered himself a turkey, or at least aloof from scouting.

I can see you growing into it at age 40, lemonade in hand, roasting little smokies over an open fire.

Moreover, as a duly commissioned scout master, I can picture you sprouting eagle's wings and developing an unbreakable intestinal fortitude.

Buck up, little camper, I have hope for you, yet. (Especially as believe I too received my badge just before the point of no return.)

Rock Solid said...

I think we all received our Eagles just before the point of no return.