ShareThisOne way or another, people eventually find out you used to be a Boy Scout.
Maybe you show a preternatural ability for complicated knots. Or maybe you can't resist the urge to Do a Good Turn Daily. But once people find out, if they have any knowledge of the scouting enterprise, they'll always have the same question. Everyone wants to know if you earned your Eagle.
It's an oft-touted statistic that only 2 percent of all Boy Scouts make it to the Eagle rank. It's the pinnacle of the scouting world and it holds a certain cachet for everyone else, from the overall community to the corporate workplace.
This prestige may seem strange to some and downright surprising to those who were Scouts themselves. Especially those, like me, whose scouting experience involved finding new and exciting ways to set fire to ourselves and to others.
Using propellants from bug spray to powdered coffee creamer (you read that right, and don't try it at home), my less-advancement-minded friends and I made weekly Scout meetings a trial for our long-suffering adult supervisors.
Though many of these friends gradually drifted away, I stuck with scouting. I stuck with it for the backpacking, the caving and various other pursuits unavailable to the average suburbanite.
I stuck with it all the way through high school, earning ranks and Merit Badges in spite of myself. But the Eagle rank required more than just showing up.
In addition to a set amount of Merit Badges, the Eagle requires an Eagle Scout Leadership Service Project. This is something you do to better your community, from painting a building to organizing a fund-raiser. It's a volunteer effort requiring a team of other Scouts and a great deal of time.
According to one scouting parent, there are three things that keep an average teen-ager from his Eagle Project -- cash, cars and (ahem) chicks. The Eagle must be earned before a Scout's 18th birthday. And, at 17, a good job, access to a vehicle and a steady girlfriend hold far more sway than another patch on a uniform you'd never wear in public.
In that way, my story is similar to those of all other Scouts who got right up to it and never earned the Eagle. By the summer that I was 17, I was more interested in dating than painting an outbuilding.
But 10 years since that summer, I think I understand the value of that final patch.
To earn your Eagle requires planning, some sacrifice of your free time and, above all else, commitment. At 17 (or younger), you have to commit a significant amount of time and effort to one thing that is not a car, a job or a girl.
There are not many teen-age boys who are willing to do this. These days, there are not many grown men who are willing to do this. I myself didn't get around to this level of maturity until my mid-20s.
To earn your Eagle is to show your community, your family or even a prospective employer that, as a teen-ager, you were already prepared to make a serious commitment to your future.
One way or another, people will find out you were a Boy Scout. And for those 2 percent, it means more than a knack with knots.
(Ben Grabow writes for the young, the urban and the easily amused. Contact him at thinlyread(at)gmail.com.)
(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service, http://www.scrippsnews.com)
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