This past week, Mari Venturino posted to her blog, ‘This one time, at band camp…‘ which reflected on her journey to a career in education. This resonated with me and brought back flashbacks as to why I became an educator.
A long time ago, on an island not so far away…
I grew up in Scouting. My grandfather, father, uncle, and eventually my cousin all at one point or another were in the same troop. Just before the summer of ’98, my scoutmaster at the time was selected to be the camp director of Treasure Island Scout Camp in Pipersville, PA. I was fourteen and he approached me about working at camp. He knew my hobby was woodcarving, which was offered at camp, and he knew it was one area which was hard to fill. I agreed and was hired as a C.I.T. Unbeknownst to me, I would spend the next eight summers on that island.
Camp patch
Sometimes, you never know the lives you touch…
That was a phrase repeated many times during training week, for me, it wouldn’t be true. It was early on in the summer and I was teaching three periods a day of woodcarving merit badge. I wish I still remembered the name of the Tenderfoot scout, but I remember the situation. See he was taking woodcarving, which can be a harder merit badge to achieve, but he had some background experience. His grandfather showed him a thing or two. Well it was on Wednesday morning where he came to me and said that his grandfather passed away and he would be leaving camp on Thursday to head to the funeral. He didn’t think he could finish the badge and wanted to collect his paperwork for a partial (he would have a year to finish the merit badge with any other counselor back home and all the documented requirements would carry over). I told him he was so close to finishing that if he wanted to stay later in the Handicrafts area, basically skipping lunch, I would stay and we could finish up. We worked on the last requirement, a relief carving, he chose to carve a fish. I showed him the techniques of how to hold the knife and which cuts to make, using my block of wood for demonstration. He replicated the movements and cuts on his block of wood. When he finished, he informed me that fishing was another experience his grandfather introduced to him and that he would be placing his finished carving in the casket. He thanked me saying, “Dan, thank you for being a great teacher.” Teacher? I never thought of myself in that light; I only thought of myself as a camp counselor.
Possible carving projects you could complete for the merit badge.
A change of heart, leads to encouragement…
Now fast forward four summers, I am the area director for Handicraft, still teaching woodcarving merit badge. I’m going into my senior year of high school and because of my previous experiences I’m applying as an education major much to the dismay of my dad. At the time, he only thought of teaching as high stress with low pay; not a career he wanted for me. But he wanted to understand why I wanted to pursue this path. Without telling me, he signed up to volunteer a week at camp. This would give him a chance to see what it was I did all summer. On the second day of that week he was amazed. He stopped in during one of my merit badge classes in the morning, took a head count and saw that I was circulating a group of 34 scouts, all with knives in their hands. I would check in with each one, see their progress, give some pointers, and then get everyones attention back on me for a whole group demonstration. He didn’t say a word to me, just observed. Later in the day, he checked in at the health lodge and inquired to how many knife cuts from woodcarving merit badge our health officer treated. Well, our health officer has been with the camp longer than me and was able to tell my dad that since I started instructing the merit badge, the number of injuries due to carving dramatically decreased to maybe one or two for the entire summer. That’s when he knew, education was the path for me.
My journey to becoming an educator started at scout camp. Quite frankly, scout camp was a microcosm of what teaching would be like. Lots of work, many times way after my official hours on duty were over; low pay; hardly any acknowledgment of gratitude; but memories and experiences filled with an abundance of joy; individuals which would become life-long friends; and the knowledge that I went to work everyday happy and excited to be there.