From Boy Scout to Eagle Scout

Written by Diane Dennis for The Oregonian

Single moms raising sons know one thing for sure. We don't have all of the answers when it comes to raising them. Boys crave excitement and risk. Moms forbid—our definition of—dangerous weapons and activities like guns, knives and wrestling. Signing my son up for cub scouts seemed a good bridge between what a boy longs for and how a mother parents.

While he was learning to tie knots and set up camp, his character was a being molded into a responsible citizen of the community. After shooting arrows into the sky, backpacking, canoeing and swimming, the value of ceremony fed his spirit as he stood before the crowd of proud parents to receive his hard-earned badges during the celebratory courts of honor.

The rites of scouting satisfy needs this culture doesn't provide. A scout becomes a member of a pack, a troop, a boys-only club. Coming home with dirt under his fingernails from his first scouting trip he walked with a new swagger as he hoisted his 20-pound backpack, and his smile was full of accomplishment. I knew he was receiving those things I couldn't provide and wisdom allowed me to take a back seat.

There is a golden prize at the end of the tenure as a boy scout, which only two percent of all scouts achieve. It is the Oscar, the gold medal of scouting. To become an Eagle Scout is an achievement that colleges, senators, service organizations and the president of the United States acknowledge.

But, after years of scouting and rounding the corner to seventeen Max came to me and said, "Enough. I'm finished."

I passed along the information to Wilsonville resident and scout leader Brian Pascoe, who responded by writing my son a heartfelt letter challenging him to stay the course, reminding him how far he'd come and how close he was to achieving Eagle. Pascoe's letter spoke about the character of a man and the benefits of finishing. I passed the letter to Max and saw his heart soften. With Pascoe's encouragement his resolve turned to steel, and he kept the course.

As it came time for his Eagle project and his 18th birthday loomed closer (you must become Eagle before you turn 18), Max began procrastinating and his progress limped along. It was like watching him take his first steps all over again and my instinct to hold out my arms to keep him from falling kicked in. But, this was his solo flight and he would crash and burn, or soar, and neither outcome would be mine to own.

Bruce Wallace, another Wilsonville scouting dad gently guided Max through the process, offering direction. Max's grandfather stepped in as mentor while I stood on the sidelines wringing my hands. We were down to the wire and everyone knew it.

Max's final project was to build and secure a bench and clean up trails at Memorial Park. Invitations for scouts and friends to help went out. With so little time and so much yet to accomplish my skepticism rose as I realized a boatload of people would be needed to pull the project off in the required time frame. Forty people showed up on that showery day with shovels, gloves and an attitude of sharing—most of them were fathers and scouts and they knew all too well the taxing process and the odds of kids making it all the way.

It isn't just that Max is an Eagle Scout. He is a man rich with character, skills and the knowledge that with perseverance, all things are possible. And this mom has Wilsonville troop 194 to thank.