Teaching Bears

I’ve mentioned before that my wife and I are Cub Scout den leaders for the Bears, or the nine-year-old boys. They’re an interesting age, so enthusiastic about everything–perhaps too much so sometimes. They can get us off topic almost before we realize we’ve gone.

This week we began a course on knives and carving. This week was knife safety. We spent far longer than I would have expected just going through the basic rules of knife safety just because their imaginations are so active–and devoted to trying to find exceptions to every rule.

For example, one of the rules we covered was to never throw your knife. That seemed like a fairly obvious rule. But no, I could see the wheels turning. Soon the questions came: “What about if it’s a throwing knife?” “What if you’re being attacked by a bear?” “What if your friend is being attacked by a bear and you need to throw the knife to him?”

I never learn. I actually try to answer all these questions, continually forgetting that such answers will only breed more questions. “Your little pocket knives would only make the bear mad at you. Don’t throw them at bears.” “But what if we have a hundred knives? And throw them really quickly?” “You can’t possibly throw them quickly enough to kill the bear before it rips you to shreds.” “But what if…?!”

If I let them they could keep us going further and further down the rabbit hole. Eventually I wise up and yank the topic back: “We’re here to learn about knife safety, not bear safety! Next time you go to Yellowstone, ask a ranger about that. Now, the next rule is…” And they come back, albeit reluctantly sometimes.

They’re a fun group. And I suspect there’s a little nine-year-old still lurking inside of me, because I suspect one of the reasons I keep letting them pull me off topic is because I can’t resist mulling over their hypotheticals myself. Could you take down a bear with a pocket knife? Not throwing it, clearly, but could you evade their claws long enough to stick them someplace vital and…

I think the main difference between them and me is a measure of adult experience that eventually kicks in and reminds me we’re getting farther and farther afield and we’ve still got three other topics to cover. But part of me can’t help but wonder what would happen if I just let their minds continue off course.

Perhaps that’s the real reason they insist on two leaders being present at all times. Hopefully one of them can maintain their focus long enough to keep the entire group headed in the right direction. Otherwise we might still be exploring ways to take down a bear with pocketknives and not be ready to try carving figures next week.

And I think this is the main reason why I decided being a school teacher wasn’t for me. There’d be no one around to pull us all back out of the rabbit hole.