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Eagle Scout

Four Birdhouses. One Eagle Scout. A Lasting Impact.

Before my 18th birthday, I earned the rank of Eagle Scout, the highest honor in Boy Scouts.

Backstory

I joined Cub Scouts because my first-ever friend was in it, and I wanted to spend more time with him. I never could have imagined that a decision made for such a simple reason would eventually lead me to Eagle Scout nearly 13 years later.

Along the way, a lot changed. My first friend eventually left our troop, but I stayed and made new friends of my own. Even though I technically belonged to a troop in Green Bay, my hometown, I joined a troop in Portland for multiple summers so I could attend summer camp and earn merit badges to keep progressing. I kept showing up year after year, even as the people and circumstances around me changed.

Eagle Scout was always in the background. My first friend's dad had his Eagle Scout award displayed in the hallway I walked through every day after school. After our weekly Scout meetings, my dad would remind me how important it was to finish what I had started. Even my doctor was an Eagle Scout. I grew up seeing Eagle Scouts as people who had demonstrated the discipline, responsibility, and commitment to follow something through.

By the time I began thinking about my own Eagle Scout project, I understood what was at stake. After nearly a decade in Scouting, the idea of having to propose, organize, and execute an entire project myself felt daunting—especially with a deadline approaching.

For my Eagle Scout service project, I designed and built four birdhouses, each tailored to accommodate a different bird species. I also created an educational plaque for each one explaining the species it supported, giving the project both an ecological and educational purpose. The birdhouses were eventually installed on my high school's campus.

Thirteen years after graduating, I went back to see them. To my disbelief, they were still there.

The cedar had weathered and discolored, but the birdhouses were intact and clearly still being used. The school president and landscape crew who had been there when I built them had since retired. They had become almost like old relics—quietly sitting on campus, long after the people who knew their story had moved on. I even remember another Eagle Scout in my troop building a garden for the school that was eventually removed after only a few years.

There was something about seeing those birdhouses still standing that stayed with me. I had built them for a specific project, on a specific deadline, with a specific goal in mind. But 13 years later, they were still serving a purpose. I realized that lasting impact doesn't always come from building something grand or making sure people remember who built it. Sometimes it's about simply building something useful, building it well, and giving it the chance to endure.

Looking back, I see earning Eagle Scout less as a destination and more as a foundation for many of the values that continue to shape my life. Most importantly, it gave me confidence in the power of sustained effort. It taught me that I can commit to something for a long time, even when the payoff isn't immediate or guaranteed, and trust that the work will eventually amount to something.

Sometimes you don't get to see what your effort becomes. Sometimes you won't know whether it will last. But that doesn't make the effort any less worthwhile.

The birdhouses gave me a small, tangible reminder of something I had been learning all along: keep building. The payoff may come later—and it may last longer than you ever expected.