As a child, I was a Brownie. All of my friends were Brownies. It was part of being a kid. My memories of Brownie meetings and Brownie activities are rather dim ... I have other memories from those long-ago days, very vivid ones, but nothing really remains in my head about "being a Brownie".
But at the end of my sojourn as a Brownie there came a moment which I think of now as my first loss of innocence, my first real disappointment. I can laugh at it now, whatever, but it absolutely crushed me when I was 8 years old. It was the first time that dearly-held illusions of mine were shattered. I suppose I should be grateful that it came from something as benign as a Brownie meeting, and not something more ominous. But whatever, this is my blog, my story, and this is the story of my first encounter with the inevitable disappointments of life.
You don't lose your innocence all at once. It's a gradual process. Bits and pieces chipped away, as you go through your life.
So here, briefly, are the memories of Brownie-hood before "the Fall" -
-- I remember having meetings in the big cafeteria ("caf")/gymnasium at South Road School - which was called "the Multi-Purpose Room" which, in retrospect, I love. It really says what it is. "Okay, so we're all going to go watch a play now in the Multi-Purpose Room!" All of us little Brownies sat in a circle as the troupe leaders (who were mothers of my friends) led the meeting. It's hilarious to think: I have friends now, old old friends, from college, etc., who have kids of their own, and are now Brownie troupe leaders.
-- I remember marching in the Parade, and feeling so proud of my little brown uniform, my little beanie hat. I particularly loved holding the flag - Oh, my heart swelled with importance. I tripped on my shoelaces, however, and fell while holding the flag. But still - the day of the Parade glowed in my memory.
-- I remember being absolutely entranced with the "Brownie book" - which I don't think they use anymore. Probably because it had too much of a pagan aspect and religious parents would object. WhatEVER. I came from a religious family, but I always appreciated a good fairy tale. The book tells the story of the Brownies, with illustrations which, in my memory, were so evocative. The Brownies were small fairies - who would creep out into the moonlight around a magical pool in the middle of the woods - and dance and sing their Brownie songs ... Well, that for me was the ENTIRE appeal of being a Brownie. I wanted to be part of that pixie fellowship.
Little did I know that, in actuality, being a Brownie had nothing to do with shimmering moonlit nights and pagan rituals around a mirrored pool - it was more about gluing interminable amounts of spray-painted macaroni onto random pieces of cardboard.
I was never into prose, especially in terms of life-style, even back then. I always preferred poetry. The romance of the moonlit woods. I wanted life itself to be poetic. I suppose I still do.
I accepted the "prose" nature of being a Brownie, but our meetings in the Multi-Purpose Room were a pale ghost of the poetry that went on in my imagination, secret meetings in the middle of the night, out in the woods.
But all lukewarm things must end, and it was time to move on and become a Girl Scout.
It was referred to as "flying up". Brownie leaders also talked about how we would "get wings". There would be a "flying up ceremony".
All of this was never explained to us in literal terms. Or if there ever was a literal explanation of what "flying up" actually meant - I was out that day. I missed that memo.
I took it all completely literally - since no one explained to me that the whole thing was basically just an elaborate metaphor for a "graduation" ceremony. Everything, to me, resonated and shimmered with magic. "The flying up ceremony"....It sounded so ... fantastical. So exciting! What did it mean? What would happen at the ceremony?
What were the "wings" we were going to get? It all was so mysterious.
I took the "flying up" part quite literally. Somehow - during the ceremony - I would "fly up". There were "wings" I would get that would help me to do this.
Some sort of transformation was going to take place. THAT was clear.
I pictured the wings in my mind and I imagined that they would be elaborate huge constructions - wings that Icarus would wear. They would HAVE to be big - if they were going to carry us up off the ground. I imagined them into reality in my brain. I worked it all out. Some of the wings (we each would get two, one to fit over each arm) were made of actual feathers, soft as down. But there were other wings made of sparkles, and glitter. It would only be revealed on the day of the "flying up ceremony" what kind of wings each of us would get. I wondered if mine would be the feathered kind. I thought that I would prefer big feathery wings to the glittery ones - but I told myself that I wouldn't mind either way. I was quite realistic about that. I talked myself down from disappointment beforehand. "It'll be okay if the wings I get are glittery. It won't matter."
The fantasies about the wings went even further. (And this element, to me, is the most interesting thing about the entire memory) Not only did I imagine what the wings would look like, the wings which would help us "fly up" to be Girl Scouts during the "flying up ceremony" - but I also imagined the wings a couple months later, crushed in the bottom of my closet, after the novelty of them wore off. That, to me, was THE most pleasing fantasy of all: to be "over" the wings, to be lackadaisacal about what was going to prove to be a transcendent experience. "What are those feathery things in my closet? Ah, those are nothing ... no big deal ... just my wings from my flying-up ceremony ... No big deal ..." I LOVED that fantasy. Even more than dreaming about the upcoming "flying up ceremony" - I LOVED fantasizing about being "over" the wings, and seeing them crushed in a heap in the bottom of my closet. That was the coolest fantasy of all.
So the big day comes. The day when all the Brownies will "fly up".
The ceremony was held in the Multi-Purpose Room. I had wondered to myself: How will we get high enough up, so that we will actually be able to fly? I had thought, Well, maybe they will stack some of the lunch tables on top of each other, and then put them on the stage ... Maybe that will be high up enough for when we put on our wings ...
Again: This all may sound incredibly silly. But nobody had ever actually told me what the ceremony was going to be, and that "flying up" was just a metaphor. Nobody explained it to me in a prosey way so my imagination just took over.
I suppose I was eager, even then, even as a little girl, for transformation. For transcendence.
I wasn't sure how the Powers-that-Be were going to handle the challenge of getting all us Brownies up to a good height so that we wouldn't fall like stones when we leapt - but I was sure that SOMEONE would figure it out.
I was a bit ... stunned ... to see how few people were in attendance. I believe my mother was there ... and a couple of other mothers ... but it seemed to be a VERY thin crowd, for such an extraordinary ceremony of transformation.
The reality did not match the magnitude in my mind. It was very disheartening.
I'll just say this, for those of you who were never Brownies, I'll tell you what the real thing is: The "flying up ceremony" is when each Brownie gets a small badge, a badge of two outstretched wings, pinned onto their sash. This wing-badge means: You are now a Girl Scout.
That's IT. That's all it was.
It had never been said to me: "You will get a wing-badge, and then you will make the Girl Scout vow, and then you will be a Girl Scout, and that is what the flying-up ceremony is all about."
They spoke in shorthand. "So, girls, when you fly up ..." "During the flying up ceremony..." "After you get your wings..." They assumed that we all KNEW.
But there I was, making up elaborate fantasies of Icarus wings, tables stacked on top of each other, little girls flying through the air of the Multi-Purpose Room, trying to convince myself that it would be okay if my wings were glittery and not feathery, and then looking forward to the day when said wings were crushed in a heap in my closet.
The ceremony began.
In a flash, when the first girl "flew up" and became a Girl Scout - the veil was pulled back from my eyes irrevocably. Horribly. I saw the teeny wing-badge, I heard her say the Girl Scout vow, and then I saw her step aside to let the next person go - and I realized that that was it. That was all the "flying-up ceremony" was going to be.
Furtively, I glanced around the Multi-Purpose Room, hoping to see a big cardboard box ... a box which would contain the REAL wings ...
but already I knew it wasn't there.
It was never there.
I went through my "flying up ceremony" with a huge smile on my face - I acted like I was really happy about my little wing-badge (my mother has a picture of my beaming face right after I "flew up") - I didn't want to show how much my heart had just cracked, how unbelievably disappointed I was, how grey the entire world suddenly looked.
I hid my heart from everyone. I was very ashamed of my fantasies. I felt stupid. Like - of course, everybody else knew what the "flying up ceremony" was going to be. I was the only one who had misunderstood. I was the only one who was devastated. Everybody else was giggling, and excited to be a Girl Scout. Inside - inside - I was crying with disappointment.
Where are my wings??? Where are my REAL wings?
There weren't going to be any wings, feathery or glittery. There would never be wings crumpled up in my closet.
There would be no transformation.
Oh, and here's a Coda:
The disillusion was complete. I only made it as a Girl Scout for a couple of months. I made my decision to quit after the day when there was a group activity where we all had to make duffel bags.
Nope. This ain't for me. There ain't no poetry in duffel bags. I am OUTTA here.
Posted by sheilaGosh, that's such a Charlie Brown moment.
Posted by: Carrie at January 12, 2004 12:49 PMIt's tragic. Really.
I need to tell my friends who are now Brownie troupe leaders: "Make sure you're REALLY CLEAR about the flying-up ceremony. Don't assume they know!"
Posted by: red at January 12, 2004 12:52 PMoh the multi-purpose room - my favorite memory involves 6th grade, you dressed in rags for the school play and forgetting to remove loose change from your pockets - a signature song - blocking that included cartwheels - and change spilling everywhere in the middle of the performance - I look at my daughter (who is in the 6th grade now) and wonder what memories she will carry from her "multi-purpose room" - treasures!
Posted by: Betsy at January 12, 2004 1:43 PMAh yes. My big Artful Dodger moment. And you - an 11 year old girl - dressed up as Nancy the whore with a heart of gold - singing "oom pah pah".
So exciting.
"Heavens to Betsy, she's dead!"
Posted by: red at January 12, 2004 1:46 PMI was in Girl Scouts for one year. I put off sewing my badges on my sash until the last moment, so when the time came, I actually had to staple them on for the "Bridge to Cadets" ceremony. During the ceremony, as the "big girl" held my hand to walk me over the "bridge", I tripped on one of the stairs and went *splat* on the ground in front of the whole auditorium.
I wasn't a very good Girl Scout.
Posted by: Emily at January 12, 2004 2:17 PMStapled badges. A definite sign of ambivalence towards the Girl Scout regime.
Posted by: red at January 12, 2004 2:19 PMDearest: wasn't it you that participated in the Girl Scout state wide meeting where each troop performed a classic folk dance? While I was unable to attend the flying up, that state wide performance I was able to attend. Your group did the Hully-Gully. I can remember saying to your mother: "We came out on a Sunday afternoon to see our kid do the hully-gully?" Other parents seemed to be delighted. love, dad
Posted by: dad at January 12, 2004 2:37 PMThe Hully-Gully debacle was when I was a Brownie. I laughed out loud remembering this. I do not remember you being grumpy about it. Thank you for your restraint.
Perhaps - we did the damn Hully Gully (at Edwards Hall) in the brief 3 months that I was a Girl Scout before the duffel bag day.
I was in Brownies, my mother was one of the troupe leaders. I went maybe one year in Girl Scouts and lost interest. The badge sewing part I ignored, and had my mother do it. To this day I'm lucky if I can successfully sew on a button. I had a lot of fun in Brownies, we did fun things and went to a lot of cool places. The other troupe leader was this lady Joan, who's daughter was in my class, and I hated her to death. We never got along, but our mothers would insist we 'co-exist' so not to disturb the activities of the troupe.
Posted by: Laura at January 12, 2004 2:46 PMyou are so funny. there will be a big hoopla of a ceremony when my brownies fly up and YOU are invited to fly up in true brownie fashion.
xxx
b
Brooke -
I would like the FEATHRED wings, please. Not the sparkley ones.
Thank you.
Posted by: red at January 12, 2004 4:36 PMI know for certain that I had episodes similar to this while growing up - perhaps not involving feathery wings, but evoking bitter disillusionment nevertheless. However, I seem to have suppressed those memories sufficiently that I can't recall any specifics at the moment...
Beautiful story, red.
Posted by: MikeR at January 12, 2004 4:52 PMI wish I could suppress it sometimes! But it is emblazoned in my mind. Years later - when I read James Joyce's "Araby", it reminded me of my flying-up disappointment. Joyce expressed EXACTLY what that loss of illusion feels like.
Posted by: red at January 12, 2004 4:54 PMThat is a really cute story. When I was pretty small, my family took a vacation that involved riding on a car ferry from one island to another. My parents explained to us kids about the ferry, how long the ride was, etc. My older sister and I nodded sagely, as though we knew exactly what to expect. My youngest sister, however, was beside herself with excitement for the whole trip: "when do we ride on the ferry? - when do we ride on the ferry? - I want to ride on the WINGS!" We realized she thought we would be riding on a fairy.
Posted by: CW at January 12, 2004 4:59 PM1969, Kindergarten at the Methodist church. We are given handouts with pictures of Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, and Buzz Aldrin and told we are going to take a trip to the moon; I immediately worry that I didn't pack any clothes (knowing it was a 3-day trip.) Half an hour later I am still waiting impatiently to pile into the car so we can drive to the ship; I didn't realize until they sent us home for the day that we really weren't going. Talk about a crushing disappointment.
Posted by: Kerry at January 12, 2004 6:41 PMI believe the Brownie singing thing at Edwards Auditorium had to do with The Bicentennial. My troupe did a thing about a girl wanting to marry a soldier "oh, soldier, soldier, won't you marry me... she's a young thing and cannot leave her mother. So up she went to her grandfather's chest, and something something something the very very very best..." and we all wore blue skirts, white blouses and long red knee socks. Very patriotic.
Posted by: Beth at January 12, 2004 9:07 PMBy the way, Jimmy Champion calls the multipurpose room the "Gymateria" as opposed to the Cafetorium.
Posted by: Beth at January 12, 2004 9:09 PMToo bad you bagged -- you missed the experience of going to Rhode Island Girl Scout Camp that I had.
I think it was even in North Kingston, maybe?
It was where I met girls who had never met a Jewish person before and asked me why we killed Jesus.
Reading your post made me recall from memory:
"There's something in my pocket
It belongs across my face
I keep it very close at hand
In a most convenient place
I bet you'll never guess it
If you guess a long, long while
So I'll take it out and put it on
It's a great big Brownie smile..."
Allison,
Your memory frightens me.
Was there a Girl Scout event at Alton Jones? I went camping there numerous times (right, Betsy??) - not sure if it was with the Girl Scouts though
Posted by: red at January 13, 2004 11:38 AMOh Sheila - I am so sorry. When I "flew Up", it was the same night as my sister's high school graduation and my parents actually considered going to that instead of my Brownie ceremony. I put up such a stink that they managed to make both important ceremonies. I also hated girl scouts. I went to Camp Hoffman, where the troop leader's husband woke us up with a bugle (why was he there anyway!) and a fellow girl scout got her period for the first time and had to leave the cabin and go home. It was cold and rainy and Kathy Carrol and I got yelled at for shaking an out house. I HATED IT. Bless you and your Brownie stories.
J
Camp Hoffman! Now that rings a bell.
And ... shaking an outhouse?
Posted by: red at January 13, 2004 1:52 PMWe went to Alton Jones with school - some sort of team building thing - All I remember is that it snowed and we built lean-to shelters. I got in big trouble at Camp Hoffman for writing on the tent walls (something about my bust size) and hanging my head very low while Mrs. McNab told my parents about it. This is also the first memory I have of my parents finding the situation very funny and trying to act concerned, but not having much success. Beth's memory is fabulous regarding Edwards Auditorium - my only memory of performing there was "The Alley Cat" and I don't remember much more than that...I remember lots of other times at Edwards though...(he he)
Posted by: Betsy at January 13, 2004 7:44 PMAllison- the Girl Scout Camp is Camp Hoffman (good memory, Jackie) which is in West Kingston, on Minesterial Road. The lake it is on is Larkin's Pond. I also hated Brownie/Girl Scout Camp. I remember there was a "singing tree", which we were supposed to sing to. I hated that damn tree. Betsy- Aahh, Edwards Auditorium. The scene of many movies- not that we watched many of them! ha ha. I will always remember trying to convince my parents that i NEEDED to see Raging Bull,i HAD to see it. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the boy I liked at the time going to Edwards that Friday night.
Posted by: Beth at January 13, 2004 10:00 PMBetsy, I was there when you wrote your bust size on the walls of our cabin. We were only 11 years old at the time - and I remember being in awe that you actually HAD a bust size!!
I love the image of Father Hall and Mary B trying not to laugh ...
And I saw Beatle Mania at Edwards Hall. Who else was there? Anyone on my blog at this moment?
Went on my first date with Trav at Edwards. We sat at the edge of the balcony, dangling our high-topped feet over the railing.
Posted by: red at January 13, 2004 10:18 PMBetsy - were you at Camp Hoffman (now I'm confusing it with Alton Jones) when a teacher came into the girls cabin and told us the scariest ghost story any of us had ever heard?
About ... a Mayan temple ... and a skull ...
And he told it as though it had actually happened to him ...
I believe we were clinging to one another in fear. You clearly dealt with your panic by writing your body measurements on the wall. Very good.
Posted by: red at January 13, 2004 10:34 PMI do not remember that story! The Hoffman story I sort of remember involved the passing of the train (because the Kingston station was close that it could be heard) and someone losing a head. I do believe the "measurement talk" was used to cover my deep issues at having been an early developer - it took much energy to find clothes to hide the reality of my development (and a couple of band-aids in Oliver) -
Posted by: Betsy at January 14, 2004 10:03 AMYes, Bets- I felt your pain, albeit at Hazarde School. I was the first one in a real bra- never had to train these puppies!! Sheil- I saw Beatlemania at Edwards-I'm pretty sure it was with you! All I remember is we were downstairs, which stands out because we ALWAYS sat up in the balcony. Am I dreaming, or did we see Andy Kaufman there too? I have a memory of being with Kate, and seeing Andy Kaufman there.
Posted by: Beth at January 14, 2004 8:43 PMYes, we were downstairs! I think it was you, me, Kate and the Bitch Goddess from the Punjab. Or am I wrong? Was Mere there too?
I did not see Andy Kaufman there. I would have remembered that.
Posted by: red at January 14, 2004 8:49 PMHa! so I wasn't the only one taken in. I thought we were going to go on a helicopter ride. (evidence: my dad was a helicopter pilot so i was familiar with them, lots of scaffolding in cafeteria/gym during weeks preceding flying up... to make a place for the copter i thought. And the little steps you walked over when you flew up (like the olympic platforms the three winners stand on), which of course were to step into the copter).
I never went back either; it had taken me almost two years just to get a brownie uniform (i remember the frowns from my troop leader when i showed up each week in school clothes), so i didn't want to have to start all over again begging for a new green one. but the parade was great, and i loved that pin.
Judy - Oh thank goodness I wasn't the only one!!
I laughed out loud imagining you thinking: "oh, they're constructing a landing-pad for the helicopter..."
So sweet!
Screw the Brownies. If I am not REALLY gonna fly, then I have no interest!!
Posted by: red at January 31, 2004 12:54 PMYou know, that's a really touching story. For some reason it reminds me of the movie Brazil, where the guy is trying to fight for the girl of his dreams in his head.
Maybe with girls it's fairy wings and with guys it's fairy girls. I do not know. My idealistic construct always had to do with women. Alas, real life is always different.
Steve
Posted by: Steve at June 27, 2004 9:24 PM