Scoutmaster Podcast 19

And now, to you, Scoutmaster. So years ago, somehow I got hold of an invitation. An invitation was sent to me to a Girl Scout Halloween party. Not to me personally, but to the Scouts and the troops.

So I took this invitation to them and I said, hey, there's going to be a Girl Scout Halloween party. Well, their eyes got very large and they said, wow, this is really going to be something. We're going to go have this party with Girl Scouts.

And these guys were, oh, you know, 13, 14, 15 years old. And they were very excited at the prospect of having this Boy Scout Girl Scout party. And they worked on their costumes for a long time. And they got, oh, they were talking about it. And they go off to the party.

And we go and pick them up later on and say, hey, how did things go? And they looked a little downtrodden.

And they said, fellas, so what's the matter? And he said, well, they were all about eight years old. They made us play party games and things. Hey, this is podcast number 19. Hey. Hey.

It's Park Green. Hi. Or less, we're going to talk about some boundaries that every volunteer will find useful. Then a little discussion about extraordinary people. And in between, another look into the vault for a historic copy of Brick Mason, Scoutmaster.

Now, if you are an astute and regular listener, you will have noted that in the last podcast, I replayed an episode of Brick Mason. I did it unwittingly. And I do apologize if it made you a little crazy.

But, you know, every once in a while, something like that will happen. So pardon me. But we've got a lot to do. So

Let's get started, shall we? Scoutmastership in seven minutes or less.

Have you ever heard somebody being described as being generous to a fault? I guess, ultimately, you could give away everything that you own.

But then you wouldn't really have the resources to perpetuate being generous, would you? So generosity is a little bit of a paradoxical value.

We can't continue being generous unless we have maintained some store of resources to share. Volunteering.

And I guess we're, you know, absolutely talking in the specific area of scouting. But volunteering is a form of generosity that, if you push it too far, is going to bankrupt the virtue that creates it. Scouting and church and school and charities and any other form of volunteer where it can demand ever greater commitments of time and resources until the poor volunteer just reaches a breaking point and quits. You can call it burnout or fatigue or what have you.

This happens when the volunteer reaches that point of frustration that just, you know, they can't stand it anymore. You've seen it happen. If you've been around scouting long enough, you've probably seen it happen. Maybe it's getting ready to happen to you.

So being able to continue on as a volunteer, as a scouter, means you really have to have some boundaries. And if we don't set boundaries, there's a good chance we won't be volunteering for very long.

We have responsibilities of family and career and the work that we do volunteering. And we have to continuously measure and prioritize these things. And they can go way off balance.

Here's some thoughts that can lead a volunteer to go way off balance and to, you know, not have a proper set of boundaries. The first thought would be, if I don't do it, nobody else will.

Well, I got to tell you, honestly, more than likely, if you think that you won't, you don't do it, nobody else will. It's more or less, you're saying, uh, if I don't do it, nobody else will do it the way I think it should be done.

Am I right? I mean, there are tasks and positions of extraordinary importance, but they're fewer and farther between than we think. If nobody else will take on a given position or a task, it might be because it's really not as important as we've once thought. Or that position has been grossly overinflated by a previous volunteer who kind of ignored their own boundaries. Another thought that can poison the volunteer experience is nobody really knows how to do this like I do. Yeah, that might be true.

So train somebody else how to do it. Now, truthfully, nobody's going to do it just like you do. But things will change. And change is not always bad. You heard it here first. Change is not always bad.

How about this? How about this thought? If it's, it is much easier just to do this myself rather than to show somebody else how it's done.

How many times have you thought that? It could be true. But volunteering is not always about efficiency. Scouting is not always about efficiency. Sometimes it's about opening up opportunities to let other people enjoy the accomplishment of volunteering.

How about this thought? Nobody really knows how to do this like I do. I've had that thought before and you probably have too.

Well, you know what? So we'll train somebody to do it. And they're not going to do it exactly like you do. And that's fine. Because they need to have the freedom and the latitude that you've had in developing your particular style of working on something.

Don't they? Isn't that the way we remain satisfied in this kind of work? Things are going to change. And change isn't always bad. Staying viable and being a contributing member of our volunteer team is preferable to like flaming out in a short blaze of glory. Things begin to spin out of control if we ignore these factors.

And the first factor is that emotional investments in what you're doing as a volunteer can skew your judgment. Here's a really good example. A parent who volunteers to help with an organization that serves their child can't ever really stop being a parent. They can try, but it's almost impossible. It's hard to be an unbiased volunteer when your child's involved. Longtime volunteers who've put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into something tend to be overly defensive in their work.

That's another kind of emotional investment. This is my deal, and I don't want anybody else screwing it up. These two common emotional issues can be huge blind spots to progress.

We need the help of friends and family to unemotionally evaluate situations in our volunteer lives. Sometimes we just can't leave delegated responsibilities alone.

Do you know what I'm talking about? You give somebody a job, and then you want to micromanage it because you want it done just so.

Well, we have to allow other people some autonomy in their work. Good management and leadership principles apply to volunteering, but the incentives are different than the work we do for pay. And some people don't respond to the incentives of volunteering with the same energy and integrity as they do when a check is involved. Yeah, people will break commitments or make minimal efforts that they wouldn't consider appropriate in their professional life, and we really can't change that.

We can only factor it into the equation. Likewise, we can't use the fact that some people are not really great volunteers as an excuse not to delegate. You got to delegate things off and let people do what they're going to do.

We need to focus on the goal, and all of our immediate goals need to serve the ultimate goal. Maintaining a vision of what we're trying to accomplish is as important as the work itself. If we'll save a lot of wasted effort and heartache, if we concentrate on the goals of our work, rather than get all tied up in the methods and trying to figure that out, let's just keep an eye on the goal. And if it's scouting, the goal is the success of your scouts.

We have to know our limits. I don't know my limits. You don't know your limits. Few people really see themselves that clearly.

Now, who knows your limits? Well, your spouse knows your limits, and you've got a few good friends that know your limits.

And we need to ask them, hey, do you think I'm doing too much? Do you think that I'm overextended?

And then we need to listen to the reply. Sometimes the easiest way to fix your life as a volunteer is a little two-letter word, N-O, no. Sometimes it's the right answer. We are fortunate to have these wonderful people who dedicate their time to scouting, and they have a sense of responsibility. But sometimes that sense of responsibility, it's easy to drive them to greater responsibilities with a little bit of guilt.

Well, you know, we're really having a problem with this. Nobody else will do it. I mean, we're nice people.

But we can't allow ourselves to be compelled by a sense of duty or guilt alone. We have to have a sense of proportion and responsibility for our own lives. And sometimes that sense will tell us to say no. Volunteering is a tremendously gratifying and enriching experience.

And we can't allow ourselves to be pushed beyond reasonable boundaries if we're to stay volunteers and we're to be effective in the work that we do. We'll be right back. We'll be right back. We'll be right back.

Geez. Geez. Geez. A crazy dream. A crazy dream. I'm glad I don't have to do that.

Yeah, you can cut your finger on those legs. Yes, we had to work hard for what we wanted. Nothing was handed to us on a silver platter, I can tell you. We knew how to delay gratification in my day.

Can you imagine that when we wanted to communicate with one another, we used the agency of something called the telephone? Wow. Wow. It turned around attached to a wire, and it had to be laboriously dialed to initiate a connection. Geez. Not only that.

We had to share this device with our entire family. As individual connections for each of us would have constituted a prohibitive expense. Wow.

Your whole family? Really? Wow. That would be hard.

We knew no different, and so lived in a state of relative happiness. And like you lads today who demand so much, and are willing to suffer little, my generation was able to apply themselves more stringently to the everyday challenges life required of us. Hey, Mr. M.

I think that's your cell phone. Um... Yes. Pardon me. Yes. Yes, that's right.

Yes. We're in campsite number 24. Rest assured, I will be prepared for your arrival. I don't know. Gee, Mr.

M., who was that? Uh, nothing really. No one of any consequence. Perhaps it's time you lads initiated preparations for your dinner.

Hey, Johnny, you know I'm starting again. Yeah, yeah, you're right. See you later. Come on, guys.

Hey, is this, uh, campsite number 24? Yes, indeed.

Uh, please moderate your voice so as not to disturb the rare day-sleeping nuthatch that nests nearby. All right, uh, yeah, whatever.

Well, here you are, my fine fellow. That's, uh, 24.95. The difference between the stated price and these bills is yours to keep.

Well, thanks, buddy. Uh, enjoy your pizza. Please. I'm sorry. The nuthatch. Enjoy your pizza.

Join us again for another exciting episode in the career of Britt Mason, Scoutmaster.

You know, in my book, anybody who answers the call to service and scouting as an adult volunteer is a pretty good man. You know, in my book, anybody who answers the call to service in scouting as an adult volunteer is a pretty extraordinary individual. Extraordinary. Extraordinary.

You get it? Yeah. I mean, scout volunteers do extra things. I'll give you an example. Ordinary folks will bring their sons to a scout meeting. Extraordinary folks are already there to make sure that the scout meeting is possible.

Ordinary folks will pack their sons up and send them out camping. And extraordinary folks will pack themselves up and go camping along with everybody else.

Ordinary folks may enjoy a quiet evening at home or around the golf or, you know, a night at the movies. Extraordinary folks, they attend meetings. Oh, my God. They attend all kinds of meetings. I mean, troop meetings and crew meetings and pack meetings and den meetings and patrol meetings and summer camp meetings and cub day camp meetings and high adventure meetings and district meetings and commissioner meetings and executive committee meetings and troop committee meetings and pack committee meetings and, for Pete's sake, subcommittee meetings to get ready for the other meetings. They spend a week at camp.

They have a bunch of meetings and email lists and email lists and calendars and call them. And they go to round tables and Pinewood Derbies and O.A. Weekends and camperees and jamborees and weeblows weekends and day camps and wood badge sessions and courts of honor and blue and gold banquets and Klondike Derbies and first aid meets. They counsel merit badges. They train their fellow scouters. They join a volunteer staff.

They'll serve on a council committee or they'll serve on a district committee. They'll go to council dinners and district dinners. They'll pick up scouts and they'll drop off scouts. They'll set up chairs and they'll take the chairs down.

And then they go and pick up the popcorn. And then they get the popcorn and they put it on a table in front of a cold storefront and huddle there for hours hoping people will buy the popcorn.

And once they do, they take the money and then they deliver the popcorn and then they turn in the money. They show up early and they stay late. And for some strange reason, they just love it.

Extraordinary people have a dining room table at which they sit and dine, you know, eat at dinner or breakfast or lunch or something. Extraordinary people have a dining room table that is covered with books and handouts and photocopies and bags of craft supplies and camping gear and the things that the scouts left at the last meeting. Extraordinary folks make sure that their children are happy and well-educated and prepared for adulthood. And extraordinary folks do this too for their children. But they also make sure that the other people's children are happy and well-educated and prepared for adulthood. Ordinary folks, if they get a little extra money, they might go get a new suit of clothes or a big plasma TV or maybe even a slick two-seater sports car.

Extraordinary folks, if they get a little bit of extra money, might get a new scout uniform or a new sleeping bag or a tent, you know, or maybe a backpack. Or maybe they'll just grab some popsicle sticks and glitter and glue and pipe cleaners and magic markers and construction paper and some scissors and, you know.

Most of the time, extraordinary folks have to pass up the slick two-seater sports car and coax another year or two out of the beat-up old minivan or pickup truck because, you know, it'll carry more gear or more scouts. Or, you know, a little bit of both. Ordinary husbands and wives get to go out to dinner. And extraordinary husbands and wives get to go out to dinner occasionally. But ordinary husbands and wives get to go out to dinner where there's no speaker or program or gangs of sugar-crazed Cub Scouts running around. They go away on romantic weekends.

And they even have family vacations, these ordinary folks. But extraordinary husbands and wives would consider a blue and gold banquet or a district dinner or a council dinner or an OA banquet to be a date.

You know what I'm talking about, right? Their weekend trips are anything but romantic. And any family vacation usually involves a really big family that cooks over on fire and lives in tents. That is some extraordinary stuff. There's no shame in being ordinary. The world needs lots of good, steady, ordinary people to keep things moving along.

But the world would be a much less interesting place without the extraordinary people who freely give themselves to a noble cause like Scouting. I gotta guess, if you're listening to this podcast, you're one of the extraordinary people.

Now, people aren't lining up to give you a handshake and say thank you. But here's a little pat on the back from me. Thanks for being a Scouter. Thank you.