I’ve told this story to a few Elangomats because it reminds us that what we do matters. But I’m recording it now for a different reason. Because there have been proposals to change the Ordeal. And some changes are already in place. We need to remember what’s at stake.
This story is not dramatic. It’s not heroic. But it impacted someone’s life. And reminded me what Scouting is supposed to be. I call this story “The Crinkle of Integrity.”
It happened during an Ordeal. Cold, wet, miserable. I was an Elangomat. And I did what Elangomats always do: I stayed with my candidates. I slept where they slept. I endured what they endured. Not because people were watching. But because that’s what leadership means.
Turns out, someone was watching. And what she saw changed her view of Scouting.
The night alone was physically miserable. Temperatures under 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Rained on and off. A combination of cold and wet is very uncomfortable. And even potentially hypothermic. I had a tarp I had recently purchased to place over myself while sleeping on the ground without a tent as an Elangomat. When the rain started a second time, I realized that it seemed damp. Very damp. I pulled my arm out of my sleeping bag. The top of my sleeping bag was wet in places! My hand against the tarp as it rained, I realized that capillary action was drawing water through the tarp wherever it came in contact. I was in trouble. Hypothermia was a distinct possibility. Sleepless shivering, a certainty. I started thinking like a Scout. What did I have with me that might help? I had three mylar rescue blankets in my pack, just to “Be Prepared”! I found them, opened them up, put two of them, overlapping, between my tarp and my sleeping bag, and one under me. Soon, warm and cozy, I fell back asleep.
About an hour and a half before dawn, it started raining harder, with thunder in the distance. Runners were sent out to bring all candidates and Elangomats under shelter because of the lightning danger. I quickly stuffed my sleeping bag into its sack. And miscellaneous items into my pack. But when you open up and use rescue blankets, they crinkle up and become a huge volume. There was no time to fold them up. My candidates and I were standing in the rain. So I carried them between my arms in front of me in a huge wad as they followed. Must have looked comic. I led my candidates to the nearest shelter. Screened sides, open to the air. I’m older and needed the remaining less than two hours of sleep.
I dropped the mess of rescue blankets next to a wall. Could have taken out my sleeping bag, but it was wet. I lay down on the mylar blankets. It was quite comfortable. I wanted just to sleep then, but forced myself back up to turn off the lights, thus silently telling the candidates to sleep as best they could. Collapsing onto the mylar in a roar of crinkles, I quickly fell asleep.
At the next OA event, one of the new OA members who had been a candidate in my clan that weekend saw me across the mess hall and quickly walked over. She said that she had been in Scouting just a few years. She had been disappointed that the leaders of events always had better accommodations than those undertaking the experiences in Scouting, which were supposed to be so valuable. When I put my “kit” together along with her and the other candidates that evening, she knew very well that an obviously senior guy like me was given ideal sleeping arrangements. A comfortable bed somewhere. That my preparing my gear like theirs was just for show. I would be sneaking off and returning in the morning to get them.
She told me that in that moment when I collapsed into that nest of mylar blankets, she believed in the OA. She realized that this is what Scouting is supposed to be. She had found, in the OA, the Scouting she craved.
Now, no one gives you a medal for sleeping on foil. But sometimes, they give you their trust.
Her trust was my reward. And gave rise to this story, which became my core memory of that weekend.
If we soften the Ordeal, we rob Scouts of their own moments like hers.
Most have never met a challenge like the Ordeal.
All will remember their Ordeal for the rest of their lives.
Any ease or reduction undermines the experience.
No talking until we have completed the tests. Discussion sessions only after the experience is complete.
Rest and water breaks? Sure. But no silly games or other distractions until the full day’s work is complete.
Ceremonies in the wilderness without modern equipment.
We must retain genuine challenge.
Not for tradition’s sake, but to retain its impact on young people.
That’s why I’m telling this story. So we don’t forget what works. And what makes it important.
If we soften the Ordeal, we rob Scouts of the moment she had. And the clarity it gave her. And later when she told me about it, the clarity it gave me.
It turns out that integrity sounds like crinkling Mylar.
I didn’t look noble. I looked ridiculous. And that’s what made it real.
The Ordeal doesn’t test your strength. It reveals your truth.
I oppose any change to the Ordeal that would disappoint that Scouter.