Straight from the Mike…The Illusion of Inclusion

It was back during the 1988 Democratic convention in a speech by the Rev. Jesse L Jackson who saw fit to use the term ‘illusion of inclusion’. He was seeking the presidential nomination. His top aide and key supporter was none other than the infamous former San Francisco Mayor Willie Brown. It seems that both political stalwarts had a pang of conscience and felt it was simply time to lay bare the heart. Illusions are indeed finite, and realities seem to spring eternal. Rev. Jackson’s reference had to do with his observation of how the Dems regularly, especially around election time, made promises but fell short on the delivery of those promises of inclusion.

However, my reference has to do with a matter much more visceral for me. The recent decision by the former Boy Scouts of America to change its revered name, its purpose, and for me, its principles was a sad reckoning for this Eagle Scout. It was a bail out, flameout, and a wipe out as far as I am concerned.

As a young boy, a few years ago, wink, wink, I was growing up in northeast Washington, DC. My mother enrolled me in the scouts. My neighborhood friends joined me, and we had a regular date with an impressive Scoutmaster, who happened to be the brother of my oldest brother’s mother- in-law. Almost overnight, I went from a young blood with the nickname ‘fatso’ to a committed scout that decided to rise in the ranks as best I could. I became a Den Chief to my play aunt’s cub pack and kept rising on to the plateau of Eagle Scout. I was able to avoid the typical trials and tribulations of an urban neighborhood. We walked to our meetings. We made the camping trips as a group and a few of us traveled to the Philmont Scout Ranch in Cimarron, NM.

The Boy Scouts were significantly responsible for me learning to cook, learning about government, how to sew and an unending respect for my fellow boy scouts and my community. Every merit badge made me think, exude effort and commitment. I had the opportunity to participate in an essay contest with the topic being, What Scouting Means to Me. It took a shy, overweight, and unassuming chap into young adulthood with travel experiences, speaking experiences, writing experience and a leg up on how to deal with other young boys.

Now we are expected to accept the fact that this new organization, Scouting America, can hold a fly swatter to the history of past Boy Scout members, character building lessons, and the proud accomplishments of so many fellow boy scouts like me. For me, it is an ‘illusion’ to even suggest that this action will do much in moving the needle of necessary ‘inclusion’ for young boys as they face the adventures of life. Systematically, I see the steady emasculation of young boys and an attempt to legitimize the desired inclusion of girls in what used to be safe havens for boys like me. Look, it is not my intent to take any umbrage with the Boys and Girls Club of America.

Additionally, I have long been a supporter of the Girls Scouts of America, especially at cookie sales time. You have the majority of your life to interact with the opposite sex. I happened to have gone to an all-boys’ high school in DC. I wore a shirt and tie to school from the third grade through high school. I relish my growing up years.

I had a tremendous support system, and the Boy Scouts of America was a motivator, safe harbor, and character builder experience for me. You learn and respect the mottos of ‘Be Prepared’ and ‘Do a Good Turn Daily.’ You realize their relevance as a stem builder for a purposeful life. Young men see vision; older men see dreams. I can offer no excuses for the unfortunate evidence of sexual abuse in the ranks of the Boy Scouts or the Catholic Church. These instances seriously tarnish the roles, reputation, and values of otherwise critical organizations. There are neither perfect institutions nor any perfect individuals. I say, as on the tombstone of revered author, Alex Haley, “Let’s find the good and praise it.”

For those who are intent on growing the young too soon, and support the meld of the sexes as soon as possible, I will remind what my mom would say to me, “Son, you are only young once.”

Special Note: If you voted, good for you. If you did not vote, please realize, you do not count.

I remain Michael Murphy…