Girl Scouts Forever

I was briefly in the Girl Scouts. Briefly. Very briefly. Not long enough to earn any badges. A very dispiriting experience. The only positive was that, on meeting days, we could swap out our green jumpers and white blouses for the GS green uniform.

My Brownie troop had been kind of fun. 

I had devoured the Brownie Scout books by Mildred Wirt. The Brownie Scouts At Silver Beach. The Brownie Scouts Tree House. The Brownie Scouts at Snow Valley. I wanted to be friends with Veve McGuire. So I was primed to be a Brownie. 

My troop didn't quite measure up, adventure-wise. But we got to hang out after school playing games like "Picking Up Paw-Paws" and doing craft projects like making angel Christmas tree ornaments out of construction paper and cotton balls. (No one had a clue what a paw-paw was, but we were all quite familiar with angels and Christmas trees.)

A couple of days after my sister Trish was born, I "flew up" from Brownies to Girl Scouts. This was in June, toward the end of the school year, and I was looking forward to my dream life as a Girl Scout when school started again in the fall. (Interestingly, Mildred Wirt also had a series of Girl Scout books, but I never read them.)

Alas, there was no dream life as a Girl Scout. My sister Kath - two years older - had been in an active troop. She earned a lot of badges and got to go to Camp Neyati. 

For some reason, Girl Scouts at our school petered out in seventh grade, when girls transitioned from the vaguely Protestant-y Girl Scouts to the Junior Catholic Daughters of America, which was some weird adjunct of the Knights of Columbus. (Uniform: crisp white blouse and shamrock-bright Kelly green skirt.) 

Anyway, by seventh grade, the "big girls" like Kath were out of the Girl Scouts, and us fifth graders inherited the troop. (I also became a JCDA. If you ignored the religious and K of C overlay, there was one excellent aspect of membership in the Junior Catholic Daughters in our parish, as we took an annual bus trip to Boston to see whatever was playing at Cinerama - some sort of  travelogue that provided a quasi "you are there experience." One I remember involved a stomach-churning video rollercoaster ride. On the way back to Worcester, we'd stop at the Eli Whitney House for ice cream. The Big Trip to Boston was a colossal treat, back in those far simpler, far less sophisticated times.)

As for the Girl Scouts, we were under a shadow from the get go, as two of the leaders (both mothers of friends of Kath and me) were stricken with cancer. Some high school girls tried to sub for them, but we didn't do much of anything. We didn't earn badges. We didn't sell cookies. We didn't march in uniform at the annual Little League parade. We didn't go to Camp Neyati, let alone Green Eyrie, the posh Worcester County Girl Scout Camp. 

We sat around despondently. Mostly I remember gossiping and singing songs like "Girl Scouts Together."

At the end of the year we had an exercise in democracy and voted to disband and get our dues money back. There was a tax on our exit. In order to get a refund on our dues - 10 cents a week, I think - we were required to purchase a Girl Scout World Pin, a blue and gold enameled pin signifying something or other.

I haven't spent a lot of time bemoaning my lack of a Girl Scout career, but when I hear about active Girl Scouts, I am occasionally wistful about the lost opportunity to learn things, to achieve, to sell cookies. I admire the Girl Scout success stories, and am maybe even a tiny bit envious of their experience.

But forget about that envy for the moment. I have nothing but admiration for a Virginia Girl Scout who recently achieved the GS equivalent of the Boy Scouts' Eagle Scout status. 

Kate Lindley’s “Gold Award” — the highest award given to Girl Scouts — was given to her to recognize the work she’s done to fight book banning in her community. But the Hanover Board of Supervisors, which has a history of “de-selecting” books, took all mention of book banning out of her personal statement when honoring the four girls who completed projects this year. (Source: Scary Mommy)

Lindley's capstone project was in response to her school system banning a list of books they deemed "offensive." To counter that offensive, she'd set up a couple of "Banned Book Nooks" in local shops (printing, donuts). She also created a website for those looking to find banned books.

Lindley has said that her project “exposes more community members to these titles, hopefully ending their demonization.”

The local school board wanted to honor Lindley's achievement, and that of the other three girls who'd won the Gold Award.  

...but when the school board read about each girl’s accomplishments, Lindley’s self-submitted description was altered to take out all mention of banned books.

Lindley had something to say about the snub:

“You bestowed upon me the greatest honor you could. Greater than that of any proclamation in your censorship of my Gold Award project," she said. “You have shown the world that you are afraid to call something what it is, be that a banned book or a ‘de-selected’ one.”

Predictably, the bluenose prig who'd been instrumental in the local book banning initiative, and "who voted to remove the book banning language from Lindley's award recognition," had a pecksniffy response:

“If anyone wants to support an author whose message is about pornography to children then people have the right to do that," [Michael] Herzberg said. "As a board member, I have a right to say no that I don’t support that request and I also have the right to say yes I have the right to approve the substitute request so the Girl Scout could still get recognized for her Gold Award."

Nice way to tie Kate Lindley to "pornography to children." But I'm pretty sure that Ms. Lindley, Girl Scout extraordinaire will rise above it. And rise well about Herzberg. 

So congratulations, Kate Lindley. I have great hopes for you. Kind of makes me proud to have been a Girl Scout myself, no matter how meager my experience and achievements. 

Girl Scouts Forever!