Iz had a great time at her regional girl scout campout this past weekend. She bitched and moaned about getting ready, but ultimately packed her own gear and clothing, and made her own damn bag lunch.
The theme of the camp was the Groovy '60s, so she wore her bedazzled tie-dye camouflage peace sign shirt (mixed signals, anyone?).
When she got to camp, she and her troop crafted and crafted. And crafted. When they were done, all the campers went into a frenzy of craftlet swapping. (Anyone who wants a bag of painstakingly twisted, glued, tied, and painted testaments to the half-fledged creative exuberance of grade school girls, do contact me.)
Then the leaders staged a bra-burning! They had paper bras, and threw them in the campfire. How cool is that, giving those girls a taste of righteous feminism?
Iz's approach to the bra-burning, however, was less than enthusiastic: "But those women didn't actually burn their bras at the 1968 Miss America pageant! I mean, they were going to, but the police warned them not to because they were standing on a wooden boardwalk! People only think they burned their bras, but they didn't!"
Facts. They get in the way of context for her, just like they do for her mom. Sigh.
I'm proud of her for knowing about this chunk of feminist history (thanks once more, Book of General Ignorance), but wish she could have gotten into the groove of the faux-bra-burning despite the historical inaccuracy. Wish she could have turned it around and declared, "Now we're going to do what they couldn't!" But she just needs more practice in thinking past the red flags of factual errors and back into context.
She said that one of her leaders also told this joke, which she thought was naughty (I told her it was so not) and which made me cackle:
Q: What did the bra say to the hat?
A: "You go on ahead, I'll give these two a lift."
I wasn't so keen on Iz being a girl scout, but I do like her troop.