I grew up in Minneapolis, MN, not the Blackest of American cities, yet we did have Black churches, two predominantly Black high schools, and two Black sections of town.
I attended a newly integrated elementary school and mostly grew up in a home on the Southside where Black families had only recently been allowed to purchase FHA homes due to redlining. Minneapolis, like many cities across America, was trying to undo some of the segregation that had previously defined it.
The Boy Scouts of America (BSA) also had a history of segregation it was trying to undo. Robert Baden-Powell founded the Scouting movement in England. In 1909, Chicago publisher W. D. Boyce was visiting London, where he encountered a boy who came to be known as the Unknown Scout. Boyce was lost on a foggy street when an unknown Scout aided him, guiding him to his destination. The boy then refused Boyce’s tip, explaining that he was a Boy Scout and was merely doing his daily good turn. Boyce was inspired by his experience and incorporated the Boy Scouts of America on February 8, 1910.
The BSA never expressly excluded Black Boy Scouts; they followed the generally accepted practice of Jim Crow, separate and unequal. America’s first “Negro Boy Scout” troop was founded in 1911 in Elizabeth City, North Carolina. Opposition sprang up immediately, but troops continued to meet in increasing numbers. In 1916, the first official Boy Scout Council-promoted Negro Troop 75 began in Louisville, KY. By the following year, four official black troops were in the area. By 1926, there were 248 all-black troops, with 4,923 black scouts, and within ten years, only one Council in the entire South refused to accept any Black troops.
The BSA formed an Interracial Committee with Stanley Harris as its leader in 1027. Also, as part of the Boy Scouts of America (BSA), Interracial Service was “Program Outreach,” a program that combined racial minorities with rural, poor, and disabled boys. These programs were often ineffective, especially with immigrants who feared the BSA as a means to recruit for the Army. Harris’s biography paints a glowing picture of his attempts to recruit minorities. There is no mention that Program Outreach often didn’t distinguish between the boys it viewed as “less chance” and those not white. The BSA systematically categorized Blacks as “feeble-minded” or in “delinquent areas.” They were organized into “special troops” with far smaller budgets and often not allowed to wear the scout uniform. Even where minority scouts existed, they weren’t always visible as scouts.
The Cub Scouts was a division of the BSA serving boys between ages 7–10. I was once a Cub Scout with a pack associated with the St. Peters A.M.E. Church in South Minneapolis. I didn’t give a thought to the Pack being all-Black. I was already accustomed to attending the all-Black Zion Baptist Church across town. Finding an integrated group meeting at the Black church would have seemed unusual. I enjoyed my time in the Cub Scouts but eventually aged out. There was no associated Boy Scout troop to transfer to, so my days in scouting appeared to be over. Then, on April 4, 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr was assassinated, and things changed.
You may wonder what MLK’s murder has to do with DEI in the Boy Scouts. Like many organizations, the riots in the streets motivated them to do what they should have done all along. In the days after MLK’s death, Congress passed the Civil Rights Act of 1968. Harvard Black undergraduates produced a list of four demands, which led to a significant increase in Black students and faculty, and corporations started recruiting more heavily on HBCU campuses. The Boy Scouts of America realized they faced a possible public relations disaster. They would host a National Jamboree the following year, including Boy Scouts worldwide. The BSA didn’t reflect the racial makeup of the nation and was embarrassingly white.
The BSA took action to make themselves look better in the short time they had available. They helped form new Black segregated troops in American inner cities, including one sponsored by the then-white Oakland Methodist Church on 44th and Oakland in Minneapolis, two blocks from my home. The scoutmaster was a Black man named Ed Walker. Notices were placed about forming a new troop in the Black churches, including mine. About two dozen Black males aged 11–14 decided to join, including me and Ellery Carr from my Sunday School class.
I had just turned twelve when, in the summer of 1968, I went on my first camping trip at Many Point Boy Scout Camp on the shores of Lake Mille Lacs in northern Minnesota. I discovered I loved everything about camping: canoeing, hiking, sleeping in a tent in a sleeping bag, and eating food prepared on an open fire. Ellery was a good cook; I was content to gather firewood. At the Boy Scout meeting after we returned from camping, Mr. Walker announced an opportunity to attend the National Jamboree at Lake Pend Oreille, Idaho, the following year.
While DEI wasn’t really a thing in 1968, most experts trace its roots back to 1964, when the first modern Civil Rights Act was passed. There had been several previous Civil Rights Acts in American history, but they either didn’t take or were ultimately reversed by the Supreme Court, which found nothing in the Constitution guaranteeing equality.
I trace DEI back to March 7, 1965, when Alabama police and state troopers beat peaceful protesters on national television as they crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge. Bloody Sunday did more to advance civil rights than any general desire to improve. Most dramatic improvements came immediately after heinous, violent acts. After Bloody Sunday came the Voting Rights Act; after MLK’s assassination came the Fair Housing Act; and after the George Floyd videos were released came the Juneteenth Holiday, an idea that had been languishing for decades.
Members of our troop were excited about the possibility of going to Idaho. I’d been on a family trip to La Grange, GA, but had never left Minnesota otherwise. We could attend the Jamboree for free, but there was a catch. To be eligible, we had to attain the rank of Star Scout, two notches below that of Eagle Scout. Our troop had just formed, and most of us had just reached the Tenderfoot rank. That meant we would have to achieve the ranks of Second Class, First Class, and Star. There were minimum time limits between each rank, and if every rank was reached in the fastest time possible, there wasn’t enough time to become a Star Scout by the deadline. As if the scholarships weren’t enough, in the ultimate DEI move, the BSA waived the time limits for us between ranks so that we would have the opportunity to become Star Scouts in the allotted timeframe.
Some of the requirements involved earning merit badges, which meant adult counselors had to verify the completion of the required tasks. The counselors were volunteers with busy lives, and it might typically take weeks to get on their schedules. Two professional scouts, first names Elwood and Elmer, worked with us to make sure delays in seeing counselors didn’t hold us up. In hindsight, Elmer and Elwood might have been a bit too fond of young boys, but I never had an issue.
I had a problem because I couldn't swim, and there was a swimming requirement to become First Class. I learned to swim well enough to meet the requirement but never attained Eagle Scout because I didn’t swim well enough to earn the required Swimming and Lifesaving merit badges.
Within our troop, Ellery and I were the two who achieved Star Scout in time to make the trip. We took a train from Minneapolis to Bayport, Idaho, and then a bus to the Farragut State Park, the site of the Jamboree.
There were over 34,000 Scouts and leaders in attendance. I was now 13 and immersed myself in the Jamboree experience. Ellery and I were assigned to be part of a troop, and we got along fine with the other kids. I engaged in trading troop patches with scouts from all over the world. Almost all of them were white, but it didn’t seem to matter. We assembled in an amphitheater on July 20, 1969, to watch Neil Armstrong be the first to land on the moon. He sent us a special message from space.
I don’t know if the BSA got what they were looking for because of a few Black faces that otherwise wouldn’t have been there. The experience widened my horizons and gave me a hope for humanity that never fully subsided. I saw the harmony that could exist between people of different languages, countries, and ethnic backgrounds. It took a little of what we now call DEI to make that possible, and no white scout was deprived of attendance due to my participation. When reaching Star Scout in months, Ellery and I completed every requirement in less time than required. I benefitted from having been a DEI Boy Scout, but maybe the BSA and scouts from other countries benefitted from seeing a Black kid laughing, playing, and getting a sun-burned nose they might not have thought was possible.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of William Spivey's work on Medium. And if you dig his words, buy the man a coffee.