Sometimes people have to make decisions. At seven I was a wide-eyed 2nd grader joining Brownies and my mother was the leader. It was fun. After my “flying up” ceremony that sent me into Girl Scouts I lost my wings, literally. It was an omen for things to come.
Our Troop leader was a mean, fat lady who didn’t encourage us to do anything at all, except not to bother her. I worked on my first badge, sewing. I knew nothing about it and my mother didn’t help me. When I finished my project I showed it to the Troop leader and she laughed at me. She then called over all the girls and they all laughed at me. I was mortified.
I stayed to sell cookies, back in the day when the girls went out in their neighborhoods and rang strangers’ doorbells. I thought it would be a lot of fun, but it was not. So I quit Girl Scouts and never looked back.
This morning I ran into a neighbor who was also in Girl Scouts as a youngster. Her friends started leaving, not because of a cruel Leader but for their own reasons. She stayed on because she didn’t want the Leader to feel bad.
After my story she asked if that incident had marred me for life. I said no, not at all, but I still remember it and have always been kind to fellow misfits (for whatever reason) throughout my life.
She did what she did because that’s who she is, some sixty years later. She’s the kind of friend anyone would be lucky to have. We see each other at neighborhood events and walking outdoors with our dogs.
I don’t think there was anything I could have done as an eight year-old about my situation. Today I would have responded differently. I’m not a quitter, but there was no “win” for me at that time and place. Thank goodness for the Sandys in the world! Cheers, Dee