Kids Can Be Assholes Sometimes
Alright, well depending on how these blog topics end up playing out for the semester, I might be talking a lot about some topics related to this part of my life. For now, let me tell you about getting out of my comfort zone and one of the...interesting experiences I had working for the Boy Scouts.
For backstory, I was a camp counselor the summer before and after freshman year of high school. I worked at a place called Camp Drake, a Boy Scout camp a few miles outside of Oakwood. The whole gist of the camp is teaching young boys scout skills and helping them earn merit badges in order for them to get closer to gaining the ever-so-coveted Eagle Scout recognition. The camp is kind of run down and a little trashy, but it's camp, you know? You go out there to camp, so your expectations are already low. The staff is just there to make sure that you have a good time.
The second year I was out there, I got paid to teach at this program area known as First Year, which was more geared towards teaching first-year scouts (in case you couldn't tell). So more often than not, we would have a bunch of hyperactive 11-year-olds sitting in a shelter for three hours as we tried to figure out ways to teach them things like knots, first aid, and other basic scout skills. And it wasn't the worst thing in the world; whenever I look back on teaching, I remember having a lot of fun. There were just a couple of interesting experiences that happened during my time there that end up sticking in my mind more than others.
During the busiest week of camp that summer, we managed to hit our maximum capacity of kids at First Year; that whole week was my boss and I trying to hold the attention of thirty 11-year-olds that wouldn't stop asking when we would take a break so they could play gaga ball. For some reason they really like to play gaga ball.
But I digress. Now, among those thirty kids, one of them had mild autism. And this was information that my boss and I were given to begin with, so we did our best to make any accommodations throughout that week. And ultimately, it didn't end up being an issue; he was just another kid that we had the pleasure of instructing. Everything was fine. Until he tried to kill himself.
Essentially, one day was dedicated to teaching the kids various knots to use for camping and boating and other stuff. About halfway through the class, I vividly remember one of the kids shouting "Hey counselors, that kid is trying to kill himself!" When I looked, the kid with autism had a rope tied around his neck with a very flimsy knot. If you took a quick glance at the situation, it was fairly clear that the kid was almost certainly not going to succeed at choking himself to death, but still, he had a tied rope around his neck.
And I freaked out. Like, not physically, but my mind immediately started firing on 10 cylinders of fear and feelings of incapability as a counselor. I was trained to deal with the spontaneity of young kids and a plethora of possible first aid emergencies that could arise, but never in my life did I have experience with suicide. I was completely thrown off. I knew this scenario was kind of extreme, but still, in the moment I didn't know how to approach the situation. We had a single kid that we needed to talk to and calm down, and 29 other rambunctious little assholes who wanted to get a look at the action.
After we got the rope off the kid's neck, my boss took him over to a tree to calm him down and talk through his thoughts, which left me to deal with the other 29 kids in the class, still trying to see if he was going to try killing himself again. And it was insanely stressful. If you've ever been in a position of authority where something you never expected goes wrong, it feels impossible to deal with. We just had a kid poorly attempt suicide, and here I was five minutes later trying to get the rest of the 11-year-olds to keep tying their knots. It was overwhelming. I could barely keep myself on track, much less keep the rest of them on track and make them stop asking me how to tie a noose.
Kids can be assholes sometimes.
Eventually, my boss successfully talked the kid down from anything extreme, and the two of them came back to the rest of the class. From what I remember, the kid just had some serious feelings of homesickness, which is why he was trying to hurt himself. And then we continued on with our lesson plans, trying to act like nothing that happened. And for the life of me, I can't really remember how the rest of that day went, much less the rest of that week. Like, we did eventually get the class back on track, but at that point I was constantly on alert for any other situation I might have to deal with. My adrenaline was high, and I'm pretty sure it was due to being stressed out that something else would go terribly wrong.
I thought I was prepared to handle these types of situations. That's the scout motto, 'Be Prepared.' And I guess in a sense I was, considering that we smoothed things out by the end of the day. But I certainly didn't feel like I was ready for it. And one of the hardest parts was keeping that discomfort to myself. I was one of the adults of the situation, and if I had gotten visibly freaked out, that would have set off the rest of the kids at First Year. I was very ready to go into that "But I'm just a freshman in high school" state of mind. I suppose it's just another experience in learning as you grow older and figuring out how to navigate new situations, but you never really expect them. I didn't just leave my comfort zone, I was seized and forcefully relocated from it, only to get beaten by adult expectations and my inner emotions.
So yeah, that was my insane experience. I might have more stories to tell with my bizarre life, but we'll see what the prompts turn out to be. Stay tuned for more life stories!
For backstory, I was a camp counselor the summer before and after freshman year of high school. I worked at a place called Camp Drake, a Boy Scout camp a few miles outside of Oakwood. The whole gist of the camp is teaching young boys scout skills and helping them earn merit badges in order for them to get closer to gaining the ever-so-coveted Eagle Scout recognition. The camp is kind of run down and a little trashy, but it's camp, you know? You go out there to camp, so your expectations are already low. The staff is just there to make sure that you have a good time.
The second year I was out there, I got paid to teach at this program area known as First Year, which was more geared towards teaching first-year scouts (in case you couldn't tell). So more often than not, we would have a bunch of hyperactive 11-year-olds sitting in a shelter for three hours as we tried to figure out ways to teach them things like knots, first aid, and other basic scout skills. And it wasn't the worst thing in the world; whenever I look back on teaching, I remember having a lot of fun. There were just a couple of interesting experiences that happened during my time there that end up sticking in my mind more than others.
During the busiest week of camp that summer, we managed to hit our maximum capacity of kids at First Year; that whole week was my boss and I trying to hold the attention of thirty 11-year-olds that wouldn't stop asking when we would take a break so they could play gaga ball. For some reason they really like to play gaga ball.
But I digress. Now, among those thirty kids, one of them had mild autism. And this was information that my boss and I were given to begin with, so we did our best to make any accommodations throughout that week. And ultimately, it didn't end up being an issue; he was just another kid that we had the pleasure of instructing. Everything was fine. Until he tried to kill himself.
Essentially, one day was dedicated to teaching the kids various knots to use for camping and boating and other stuff. About halfway through the class, I vividly remember one of the kids shouting "Hey counselors, that kid is trying to kill himself!" When I looked, the kid with autism had a rope tied around his neck with a very flimsy knot. If you took a quick glance at the situation, it was fairly clear that the kid was almost certainly not going to succeed at choking himself to death, but still, he had a tied rope around his neck.
And I freaked out. Like, not physically, but my mind immediately started firing on 10 cylinders of fear and feelings of incapability as a counselor. I was trained to deal with the spontaneity of young kids and a plethora of possible first aid emergencies that could arise, but never in my life did I have experience with suicide. I was completely thrown off. I knew this scenario was kind of extreme, but still, in the moment I didn't know how to approach the situation. We had a single kid that we needed to talk to and calm down, and 29 other rambunctious little assholes who wanted to get a look at the action.
After we got the rope off the kid's neck, my boss took him over to a tree to calm him down and talk through his thoughts, which left me to deal with the other 29 kids in the class, still trying to see if he was going to try killing himself again. And it was insanely stressful. If you've ever been in a position of authority where something you never expected goes wrong, it feels impossible to deal with. We just had a kid poorly attempt suicide, and here I was five minutes later trying to get the rest of the 11-year-olds to keep tying their knots. It was overwhelming. I could barely keep myself on track, much less keep the rest of them on track and make them stop asking me how to tie a noose.
Kids can be assholes sometimes.
Eventually, my boss successfully talked the kid down from anything extreme, and the two of them came back to the rest of the class. From what I remember, the kid just had some serious feelings of homesickness, which is why he was trying to hurt himself. And then we continued on with our lesson plans, trying to act like nothing that happened. And for the life of me, I can't really remember how the rest of that day went, much less the rest of that week. Like, we did eventually get the class back on track, but at that point I was constantly on alert for any other situation I might have to deal with. My adrenaline was high, and I'm pretty sure it was due to being stressed out that something else would go terribly wrong.
I thought I was prepared to handle these types of situations. That's the scout motto, 'Be Prepared.' And I guess in a sense I was, considering that we smoothed things out by the end of the day. But I certainly didn't feel like I was ready for it. And one of the hardest parts was keeping that discomfort to myself. I was one of the adults of the situation, and if I had gotten visibly freaked out, that would have set off the rest of the kids at First Year. I was very ready to go into that "But I'm just a freshman in high school" state of mind. I suppose it's just another experience in learning as you grow older and figuring out how to navigate new situations, but you never really expect them. I didn't just leave my comfort zone, I was seized and forcefully relocated from it, only to get beaten by adult expectations and my inner emotions.
So yeah, that was my insane experience. I might have more stories to tell with my bizarre life, but we'll see what the prompts turn out to be. Stay tuned for more life stories!
That was a very invigorating story. I liked how you extracted a philosophy on responsibility and age from this experience. Watching a kid who attempted suicide at such a young age seems like a very life-changing experience to you as a counselor.
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ReplyDeleteWhat I really relate to in this story is that nobody tells you about the adrenaline rush you get when you are responding to an incident where somebody else is in danger and you are responsible for them. It's not the same kind of adrenaline rush you get at a concert, or before going onstage, or giving a presentation. It's not even the kind you get during a race, where you're nervous before and get a second wind somewhere halfway through. It's an all-encompassing feeling where the weight of the situation comes down on you and you have to act like you're not freaking out. I've spent several summers lifeguarding for the Urbana Park District, but I still remember the first time I had to jump in to save a kid. I was confident in my own skills and I knew that I knew what to do, but even after everything was over and the kid was safe and with his mother, I was still shaking and out of breath. And nobody even addressed it. I just went back to work, trying to act normal, but feeling jittery and on edge for the rest of the day.
ReplyDeleteHello yes I like this story
ReplyDeleteI like how you took a super uncommon experience and compared it to both your inner monologue and your physical actions in a stressful circumstance. It really puts into perspective how we can feel a certain way even though we conceal it.
ReplyDeleteWow, this was a unique story. I liked how you told this story from your perspective, and did not use an omniscient narrator. It was really interesting to hear what you thought about the experience, and it just seemed more meaningful the way you told it.
ReplyDeleteThis is a really interesting story. I feel like kids only behave like this at camps. There are something about camps that shouts, "it times to act like little demons just to spite the counselors." My public encounters with people's children often doesn't end up kids trying to noose themselves but when I was a camp counselors some kids tried to pee on each other.
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