City Mouse, Country Mouse

City Mouse, Country Mouse

As a man in my 40's, I remember a distinct difference between city living, and country life. I was raised in Portland Oregon when I was a child, but always spent time in the summer at my grandparent's homes, which were far more rural. One set lived near the water in Washington, with woods just behind the house, the others lived in Oregon farm country for a few years, raising filberts and grass (as far as I could tell when I was 7). The difference between these two great summer vacation choices, and my home in the city, was obvious to me even as a young boy.

In the city, there were pretty distinct boundaries. I couldn't go past the end of the street alone, I could go to the corner store with a friend (3 blocks away) and we'd walk to school in a loose herd, but there were real limits. Playgrounds were concrete, stone, and asphalt. I had a mud hole in the backyard, where I was free to dig in good weather, provided I rinsed off before coming in, and there are still probably a dozen matchbox cars buried in that lawn the current owners know nothing about. I remember getting a pocketknife at some point, but not being able to do much with it there in town. As an only child, I ended up spending a lot of time indoors, entertaining myself with model cars, and a vivid imagination.

But when I went to the grandparents, it was a different story altogether. My physical boundaries expanded, my unsupervised world grew, and my activities were naturally outdoor-oriented, even if there weren't any friends to play with. I learned about trees, water, boats, fishing, knife use, fires, and maybe a few fireworks. It was like living another life, when I stack the memories up against each other now, many years later. What struck me, was the kids who lived out by the farm, or up against the woods, whose home was those places, taught me a lot by their familiarity with it. They were used to doing things differently than I did them in the city, and we're all familiar with the old story of the mice, one who lived in the city and one who lived in the country. They each specialize in different things, and live very different lives.

What's this got to do with Scouting?

We have a Scouting program to help get our city-fied kids out in the woods once in a while, and try to teach them how to do things in a more natural environment.  If we're lucky, some of it sticks. There's only one problem: all the available places to camp, especially here on the East Coast (but I hear reports of it out West as well) have so many rules, so many restrictions, that one is forced to endure a thin copy of what used to be a "rugged moment" in a boy's life.  You can't cut your own firewood, you can't pick up dead wood even, lest the fungus have nowhere to grow with the heavy use these campgrounds survive, but you can buy a bundle of wet firewood for $8 at the camp store if you like. Oh, and don't bring it with you, there's a beetle problem and we don't want people spreading invasive and destructive species. So we get just enough to heat up a foil dinner and maybe roast a marshmallow, and probably lit it with some match-lite charcoal, and didn't put much thought into fire lays, or starting techniques, or whittling fuzz sticks or even finding and preparing tinder and kindling in any meaningful way. The tent pitches easily on flat ground, where ten thousand have been pitched before. The cooler has fresh ice, so we don't worry about managing our food for a simple overnight. We're at home, except there's not much of a roof over it... but for all intents and purposes, we've not really left our mindset behind and because of that, there's little room for a new one to creep in.

This hit me in the stomach the last evening of our High Adventure this summer, when one young man told me that his big lesson of the week was the importance of woods tools, and how he'd never really had to use them before. This is one of my high-flying Eagle Scouts. A natural leader, charismatic, achieved and decorated, and as experienced as any kid coming through our program. And he'd never really had to use an axe, or a saw, or a knife, for days of firewood prep just to boil water for dinner, or dry his clothes, or keep warm at night. Now I understand our Wilderness Survival High Adventure is a bit challenging, but it's just built on a set of basic Scouting skills, and I was surprised to learn that these skills were not as common as I'd assumed they were, and the youth were not nearly as practiced in them as they ought to be by the time they're finishing High School and getting ready to enter the world as Men.

It exposed a weakness, in my opinion, of city-based Scouting programs. That weakness is, the ease of which we assume we're doing a good job just because we're getting them out camping every couple of months, and that they're getting through the advancement to Eagle Scout. But these alone do not make a man prepared to deal with the outdoors, not really. It takes more focus on the things they actually learn. It takes repeated practice at things that, because of our limited camping options, are becoming harder and harder to do. That means we, as leaders, need to put in some extra effort to make sure they have the opportunities to really learn and put into practice the basic skills that we assume Eagle Scouts carry around with them.

How to accomplish this? I think the mental discipline is the hardest part... to be aware of how we might be missing something, and then actively plug the gap, is the first and greatest challenge. Survey the boys' skills. Put them to the test, challenge them to skills and see if they have it, or fail for lack of either real teaching, or for lack of practice at what they might have once learned.  Bushcraft skills are perishable, like so many other skills that require good hand-eye coordination, focus, and discipline to accomplish safely, efficiently, and effectively. Theory is great, but observation under real conditions is priceless, and a variety of conditions for every outdoor task is needed to provide a well-trained and capable Scout. then we must create an environment where they can have these opportunities. I have a fire pit in my backyard, and plenty of cuttings from trees and bushes in a pile. Inviting the boys over to practice preparing that wood for a small cooking fire, and then making them start the fire over, and over, and over, where I don't care what they cut or how they cut it, or how many times they burn up what's in my pit... that's something I can do to get them more practical experience. It just doesn't fit our model of "meet at the church Wednesday night and nothing else," a rut I'd like to break out of more often.

But we're all busy. I get that, but it's no excuse. If we're to be responsible leaders of young men who want adventure, want challenge, and want success, I feel compelled to suggest we rise to the occasion, and go that extra mile to make sure they have the opportunity they need to learn what's expected of them, in a meaningful way that will stick with them as they enter adulthood.

I challenge the leaders of youth programs out there to take a good look at their program, and find the holes that might go overlooked. Fill them with practical learning opportunities, and watch your boys respond to it. Everyone wins.