The Church Scout Leader

In my church, every person has an assignment or calling. A few weeks ago, I was 'promoted.' Instead of throwing dinner parties for the women's organization every two months, I now get to host activities for the tweens in my congregation every two weeks.

I was having a little trouble embracing my new job--or even understanding its purpose and function--until someone offhandedly described it as "kind of like Girl Scouts."

At the allusion to Thin Mints and Troop Beverly Hills, I perked up. It's no secret that I enjoy bossing people around, and if I can do it in a uniform, all the better.



After talking with the previous group leader, I learned that I am responsible for twelve girls between the ages of 8 and 11, each of whom is afflicted with hyperactivity and varying stages of selective hearing loss. I was told repeatedly that if left unattended or underentertained for more than five seconds, the girls would run the hallways and/or push each other around in the service wheelchairs.

This bad behavior didn't concern me. The lack of uniforms in the supply closet did. A comprehensive search of the program handbook failed to produce a dress code that included pleated shorts and sew-on patches.
"There isn't even a sash!" I complained to my husband after our first meeting on Tuesday. "I don't know if I can do this without a uniform!" I whined.

More than a costume that resembles a green bean, I want something that makes my position of authority transparent to the world, or at least to a bunch of fourth and fifth graders...and their parents. What I'm looking for is an outfit that says, "I am emotionally unstable. Do not mess."

"If you want a uniform that bad," my husband told me, "Why don't you just design your own?"

Laundry, dishes, and attending to my children's basic needs were ignored yesterday to make time for the more important task of thinking up color schemes for knee-high socks and lanyards and debating whether my uniform should include a sash or vest...or both.