The Washington Post, by Mike De Socio: Amid the hundreds of tents erected for the Boy Scouts of America’s National Jamboree, one especially stands out — decorated with a canopy of LGBTQ Pride flags and a string of multicolored lights, its tables covered with bowls of rainbow bracelets, pronoun stickers and diversity patches.
“This is my entire world,” said 18-year-old River Capell, a scout volunteer from Northern Virginia who describes themselves as nonbinary and pansexual. Since the jamboree began last week, Capell has had plenty of company under the huge canvas. “There’s been days where there’s 2,000 kids in this tent alone. And that is just, like, absurd.”
Absurd indeed given the BSA’s traditionally conservative bent. But this first-ever affinity space for LGBTQ+ youth has been embraced at the gathering, as have similar spaces recognizing scouts of color and the first girls admitted by the organization.
“I’ve had some scouts asking genuine questions, like, ‘What does it mean to be this? What does it mean to be that?’” Capell said Tuesday. “But it was all curiosity, and how do I help, rather than [hostility]. So it’s all been incredibly welcoming and positive.”
It’s quite a departure from what I experienced a decade ago when I first attended a National Jamboree. I was 18 years old, a freshly minted Eagle Scout, and had yet to admit my own queerness, even to myself. The BSA had only two months before lifted its ban on gay youth — something I was thrilled to see. But the leadership certainly was not yet ready to embrace gay members wholesale: That jamboree had no affinity tents, no rainbow patches. The scouts attending were (presumably) straight boys.
l remember being blown away by the sheer scale and swagger of the 2013 event. The lack of LGBTQ inclusion programming did not occur to me, perhaps a sign of my naiveté or internalized homophobia.
Ten years later, almost everything has changed. Capell is one of 15,000 scouts and volunteers who have descended on these rolling green hills for the 10-day gathering. That number is a fraction of the 40,000 counted at the previous jamboree.
The meager attendance reflects the weather-beaten state of the Boy Scouts of America. Though its doors are now open to kids of all gender identities and sexual orientations, fewer than ever are accepting the invitation. The organization lost nearly half of its membership between 2019 and 2020. This national event represents one of its first steps out of a generational nadir brought about by the pandemic, a sexual abuse scandal and an ensuing bankruptcy.
The BSA had barely resolved its struggle over membership policies — fully admitting gay men in 2015 and trans boys in 2017, and then cisgender girls in 2018 — before facing an avalanche of sexual abuse claims. More than 80,000 victims came forward, some alleging incidents from decades earlier. The bankruptcy proceeding that followed only concluded this spring with a $2.46 billion settlement, the largest of its kind in U.S. history.
But the turmoil had an upside. Scouts within the ranks seized the moment to press for a focus on diversity, equity and inclusion. A collective dubbed “Scouts for Black Lives” successfully pushed the organization to commit to a slate of projects, including a new diversity merit badge required for Eagle Scout rank. And at this year’s National Jamboree, which ends on Friday, the BSA has for the first time created community spaces for historically excluded populations.
Part of the reason this year’s jamboree is such a milestone is because of the sheer amount of time that has passed since the last one in 2017. The event usually happens every four years, but the coronavirus forced its cancellation in 2021.
Paige Morgan is one of the volunteers at the community space for girls. The 19-year-old from Scranton, Pa., also identifies as bisexual and has been glad to see the neighboring LGBTQ community space. “I know the people that are coming through here, like trans, nonbinary youth, the queer youth, are having a great time seeing themselves represented in a space that they love so much, that is scouting,” she said.
The changes remain somewhat polarizing, reflecting the broader cultural moment that has pitted champions of diversity and inclusion against conservatives and the religious right. People who applaud the organization’s embrace of the LGBTQ+ community see it as a long-overdue sort of reparation after years of exclusion and court battles. Others consider it a diversion that threatens scouting’s core values and religious underpinnings.
It was hard to detect any kind of tension this week. As I strolled through the community spaces, I witnessed only excitement and curiosity. The tents — offering free merch, panel discussions and guidance for scouts on “how to be an ally”— appeared more popular than the Methodist and Mormon tents down the gravel lane.
The prototype for the programming was unveiled last year at the National Order of the Arrow Conference in Knoxville, Tenn. — a far smaller event geared toward what the BSA calls its “honor society.” I served as a volunteer at that conference, staffing a space called “ArrowPride” that welcomed LGBTQ+ attendees. From the moment we opened the doors, a stampede of youth overwhelmed us.
The jamboree has been much the same, according to Capell, who has been particularly surprised by the large groups of boys who have stepped into the LGBTQ+ tent. “All of them have been super cool … all put wristbands on.”
The empathetic vibe is a stark change from the last jamboree in 2017, which made headlines for all the wrong reasons when then-President Donald Trump spoke at one of the big nightly programs. It is common for commanders in chief to be featured guests, but not so common for them to seize the podium as if they were at a political rally: Trump mocked the “fake news media” and his former Democratic opponent, Hillary Clinton, and bragged about his recent electoral victory. The BSA issued a formal apology for his comments.
There was no worry about a presidential appearance in 2023; the evening shows have been notably absent, replaced instead by a rotating schedule of “base camp bashes” that feature casual DJ sets.
Still, passing cliques of brightly shirted youth, I couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite all the positive milestones, the event was lacking. I remember the 2013 jamboree as a crush of people on every trail, in every activity, under every tent.
The optimist in me wants to see this summer as a reset of sorts for the BSA — a necessary contraction before a hard-won resurgence. Even if the organization never manages to regain its golden-age scale, there is value in the type of place it is becoming: one where any kid, of any race or gender or sexual orientation, feels at home.
Capell is hopeful that this momentum can continue outside the spotlight of the culture wars threatening social justice efforts in other areas of American life: “Since we’re starting to move in this direction, I think because we’re scouts, there is a sense of willingness to change.”
Prophetic Link:
“Likewise also as it was in the days of Lot; they did eat, they drank, they bought, they sold, they planted, they builded. Even thus shall it be in the day when the Son of man is revealed.” Luke 17:28, 30.
Comments
William Stroud
Friday August 4th, 2023 at 11:38 PMAnother “American institution “, like base ball and other sports, destroyed and made an institute of indoctrination of youth into a sexually distorted lifestyle. Not that I’ll miss any of those endeavors. There is always Pathfinders and competitive sports are not Christian activities either. The point is there is a acceptance of perversion in the world . Another tool of the devil.