I’ve just returned from a week at Boy Scout camp with my son. He knew all along we’d have fun. I didn’t. But, I was surprised to discover myself having fun by the end of the first day. However, my biggest surprise came from witnessing the use of live performance at the camp, most especially during the closing night campfire.
I’m aware of the long standing controversies that surround the Boy Scouts’ policies that exclude gays, atheists, and agnostics. Despite our disagreement with these policies, my wife and I decided to respect our son’s desire to join Cub Scouts as a 2nd grader. As a result, we’ve been interacting with the Boy Scout culture for the past 7 years. Finally, I’ve come to understand the role of performance in the Boy Scouts community. If every performing arts organization achieved what the Boy Scouts do with performance there would be few conversations about how to keep the arts relevant to people’s lives.
Not only does the campfire gather the community for a shared experience, it unfolds with a specific structure that gives meaning, cohesion, and understanding to the community. Through the simple tools of comedy, song, and story the campfire reaffirms the collective experience, articulates community values, and honors community tradition.
The staff campfire performances always start with a mix of silly skits and songs. However, the content of these performances reenact in exaggerated form the experience and perceptions of the camping community. We see a young scout free from parental supervision gorge himself on candy, we are reminded of the absurdity of the scout master trying to keep his troop of excited boys in order, and we watch as the camp staff lampoons itself. The comedy culminates in a long form farce. The one I saw is called “The King, the Queen, and the Gate” and has been in the scout performance repertoire for over 50 years.
Following the farce, an adult leader takes center stage to tell a true story that affirms the community values. I heard the story of football player Raymond Berry and “The Greatest Game Ever Played” at the campfire I attended. The story slows the evening down and is followed by a ballad that articulates everyone’s strong feelings about the week of camping and wish for it to continue though it must end. With a quiet mood now settled on the gathering the camp director makes closing remarks and honors all the adults that gave a week of their time to support the scouts in attendance by coming to camp. The night ends with the full camp staff of sixty people entering behind the camp director to sing the camp hymn as the scouts and parents slowly and quietly depart. I lingered behind to see that the hymn ends only after the staff encircles the campfire and sings it through as their own smaller community.
I left the campfire stunned by the perfect service it had provided to its community. The content wasn’t sophisticated nor the talent overwhelming. But the genuine enthusiasm of the performers to entertain and be relevant to the audience connected the event to each person’s unique experience. I came away wondering why so many non-profit performing arts organizations don’t have the same passion for being meaningful to their community as they do for achieving highly polished performances. There is something to be learned from a simple Boy Scout campfire.