After 25 years in the organization formerly known as the Boy Scouts of America, I am calling it quits. Tonight, I said my final farewells — not to the many friends I’ve made over the years — but to the organization itself.

Where do I even start with a post like this? After 25 years, I have so many memories, so many stories to tell, and yet I’m at a loss for words. My emotions are all over the place. On one side, there’s anger and frustration. On the other hand, there’s sadness at stepping away from something that was once a cornerstone for teaching core values to young men.

When my son crossed over from Cub Scouts into Boy Scouts, there were a lot of uncertainties. Would he enjoy the outdoors? Would he be okay spending his first night in a tent with boys he barely knew — and without his dad right beside him? Suddenly, he was under the supervision of boys — or really, young men — not much older than he was.

During those first meetings, I sat back and watched him interact with the other scouts his age. He had a great time as a Cub Scout, but there he was alongside his mom, working together to earn belt loops and awards. Scouts was different. The parents sat off to the side while the boys were taught the Pledge of Allegiance, the Scout Law, the Scout Oath, and the Outdoor Code — not by adults, but by youth leadership. I was a proud parent the day my son could recite all of them by heart.

As my son grew up in Scouts, so did I.

I was eventually asked to become a leader. At first, I was reluctant, but I quickly realized I could give back by passing on skills I had learned over the years. I taught Plumbing Merit Badge, Photography Merit Badge, and even knots I’d learned working in the HVAC industry. What amazed me most was that, without even realizing it, I was getting to spend time with my son. Maybe not one-on-one, but we were there together, learning and growing at the same time.

My son eventually earned the rank of Eagle Scout — during a time when I was serving as his Scoutmaster, a role I had stepped into years earlier. It was one of the proudest days of my life. Because he hadn’t turned eighteen yet, he stayed active and served as Senior Patrol Leader.

Then came a weeklong campout on the outskirts of the Great Smoky Mountains.

On the final night, the boys gathered around the campfire for skits and reflections. Then it was my son’s turn to speak. He announced it would be his last campout with the troop. He would turn eighteen in a few weeks and would be aging out. His plan was to go off to college, and Scouts wasn’t part of that plan.

My heart sank.

For six years, we camped, hiked, cooked, climbed — you name it. Maybe it wasn’t one-on-one, but we were together. When lights out came and I finished my rounds, I went back to my tent, and I broke down and sobbed.

But the story didn’t end there.

I stayed involved because I had completed a lot of leadership training, and I felt like I still had something to give back to the program.

There was a need in our district for someone to take over Eagle Board responsibilities. This committee helps guide young men in selecting meaningful Eagle projects and conducts Eagle Boards of Review — sitting down with candidates to talk about their Scouting journey and their Eagle project. I wish I had known how long I would stay in that role, because I would have kept count of how many young men earned Eagle while I was there.

Over the years, I wore many hats in Scouting — none of which I regret.

As the organization changed, though, so did my attitude. There were changes that simply didn’t make sense to me. The main reason I stayed as long as I did was that the core program still worked, regardless of the decisions being made at higher levels.

Apparently, I wasn’t alone in my concerns. Membership dropped like a rock. In my district, we went from twelve troops to five during the years of major changes. Tonight, that number dropped from five to three. Our two combined troops folded due to a lack of leadership and membership growth. After tonight, I don’t see how our district survives without eventually merging into another.

I’ve asked myself, “Who’s to blame?” That’s not something I really want to dive into.

But I will say this — it wasn’t because local leaders didn’t try.

Follow the money.

Charging $120 per year just to join, plus around $325 for a week at summer camp, is a lot. Many families simply can’t afford it — especially if they have more than one child in Scouts. And that doesn’t even include troop outings, which can run anywhere from $15 to $45 per trip. Many of these kids are being raised by single parents

Yes, Scouts can sell popcorn to help offset costs. But it’s hard to sell a $25 box of popcorn with six bags in it when families can buy the same brand at the store for $7 and get twelve bags. And when an adult tells a scout it’s “highway robbery,” what do you say to a seven-year-old who just got scolded by a stranger? It’s not their fault. They’re just trying to raise money to help pay their dues.

And when only about 32% of the profit gets split among the scouts working that shift, it makes it even harder.

Meanwhile, councils raise tens of thousands of dollars — and districts often see very little of it. I know there’s overhead. But it does make you wonder where the money goes.

Sorry — not sorry — for the tangent.

That’s the angry part of this story. I try not to dwell on it, but it does get under my skin.

Because at the end of the day, the program still works. It’s just becoming a program that fewer families can afford. And if something doesn’t change, Scouting could fade away.

Not to worry, though. The boys in the two troops will be going to one of the two troops still active. With determination, I feel that all the boys will stay in it long enough to earn the rank of Eagle.

And that would be a real shame.