Junkyard Dogs: A Child of Chaos
And the Crown Scout Creed (Pt. 2)
The OBA Story Archive is a home for honest, brave, and raw stories from voices that have been silenced, overlooked, and flattened by mainstream culture. Here, we tell the stories the world taught us not to. Here, we record written truth because it is our most powerful weapon against oppressive systems that attempt to co-opt our voices. This is where the fight back begins and perseveres: by radically reclaiming our voices and owning our narratives.
If you need a safe haven for your most honest story to live, or if you know someone else who needs a soft place for their brave words to land, leave a comment. 🖤
Junkyard Dogs: A Child of Chaos & The Crown Scout Creed (Part 2)
Read Part 1 here
Quarry Summer
The first set of merit badges from the Georgia Crown Scouts came pretty quickly the summer I joined: coupon clipping, budgeting, thrifting, cooking, emergency preparedness, home management, and community service. Nothing fancy, just small skills that taught me how to navigate everyday life. In all honesty, I didn’t realize then how much those early lessons like stretching a dollar or preparing for the unexpected would come in handy later. But looking back, they laid the groundwork for something I could count on.
Most weekends during those elementary school years, I was with James, my fellow scout and partner-in-local-adventure. We played games, watched anime, had Yu-Gi-oh duels, ran around the park, wandered the strip mall…just kid stuff. It was light and simple, but a good kind of normal that helped cushion everything else.
Because back home, nothing was steady. My mom was dealing with domestic violence, and the house never felt safe. Eventually, I began staying with James’s parents — my adopted aunt and uncle — for longer stretches. First overnight, then full weekends, and eventually the entire summer while my parents tried to work through the clusterfuck.
It was during that summer that I first noticed I wasn’t feeling like myself. My energy dipped, and I didn’t have the words for it yet, but it was the beginning of what I now know was my first brush with depression. My aunt and uncle picked up on it and tried to lift my spirits. One day, they took me to swim at a local quarry. It felt random, even a little odd at first, but when we got there, the place was alive. Families barbecuing, kids swimming, people laughing and handing out slices of pie and cake. And then there was Adsila.
She was there with her own family, bright-eyed and quiet like me, with blue-green eyes that didn’t seem to blink much. Cherokee, full-blooded, she told us when we asked. James and I swam with her and set off fireworks with her that night. Small crackles over the water, smoke drifting into star-soaked sky. She was just passing through. Or so I thought.
I didn’t know then that I’d see her again briefly, in other years, other places. A few flashes in the timeline that didn’t seem to connect…until they did. I couldn’t have guessed back then how much she’d end up mattering to me. But that day at the quarry, soaked and wild, watching sparks rise into the air, I felt something shift. Just a little. A moment of happiness down in the hillbilly heaven that was and still is my hometown. A moment of happiness that would go on to echo louder the older I got.
I didn't jump into the joy right away, but instead I took the time to just absorb it slowly and watch it unfold around me. I felt something soften inside. That outing couldn't and didn’t erase everything I was carrying at that time, but it reminded me there were still bright spots and silver linings. That the little skills and experiences I picked up were steps toward building a life I could shape for myself, even if I had to do it piece by fractured piece.
The Crown Scout Creed
“…I am a friend to those in need
I offer help where I can & hope where I must.
I share what I have, knowing that strength is built together…”
Subscribe to to read the next part of this series, where Kc shares how another excerpt from the Georgia Crown Scout Creed came alive in their life story.
 | A guest post by
|