- Author: Marianne Bird
Three weeks ago my colleague and I were discussing the successes and challenges with our Teens as Teachers programs. Teen participation in Sacramento 4-H YES and Cooking Academy projects exploded this year as we had 69 high-school youth delivering these weekly sessions at afterschool sites. In Sacramento 4-H, participation overall has rebounded: our camps are full and clubs numbers approach those pre-Covid. But post-pandemic programming hasn't been without challenges.
“We need to do a better job of communicating,” my colleague lamented. “I send emails, text messages, even confirm things with the teens and program staff on the phone, but often they just don't follow through. I don't know what else to do.”
I thought back to situations throughout the year: adults who would say they'd send in paperwork but didn't; young people who would commit to tasks then cease communication; a potential volunteer who left orientation excited but couldn't let us know she had changed her mind. The issue doesn't seem to be lack of communication. The issue appears to be one of engagement and accountability. It's not that people don't know what to do, but that they lack follow-through in doing what needs to be done.
Covid challenged us to work and learn in new ways. I can't help but wonder if the strategies of remote classrooms, courses, meetings and work environments have nurtured a sense of anonymity or unimportance. We know how difficult it was for many youth to connect online with their teachers and assignments. In the workplace, we've learned how to log into a Zoom meeting while simultaneously focusing on other tasks. Participants are present, but not fully. Perhaps inadvertently our virtual way of working has developed a sense of disconnection—from our commitments and from each other.
Building connection, responsibility and commitment is what we do in 4-H. 4-H clubs, camps and projects should be places where members feel like they belong, where their ideas are heard, and where they assume responsibility. We expect follow-through on tasks undertaken. Caring, committed adults—who know, understand, and support young people in their growth—are there to model accountability. 4-H is relevant now more than ever as we help youth (and quite frankly, adults too) embrace the responsibilities they take on and to understand the consequences of lack of commitment.
We lost a lot as a result of Covid. Membership, certainly. But even as membership grows we confront a broader problem of disengagement, not just in our organization, but in society in general. 4-H is an optimal place to combat the apathy the pandemic seeded. I have confidence that with time, and the power of personal relationships like those forged in 4-H, we'll strengthen commitment to being fully present to each other and the tasks at hand.
- Author: Marianne Bird
We have multiple programs that serve youth in 4-H: fun camps; authentic service-learning opportunities for teens; hands-on curriculum that give kids in afterschool settings the chance to be scientists or learn to cook. But for just a moment I'd like to focus our oldest and most tried-and-true youth development experience—our 4-H clubs.
I wasn't in 4-H as a child, but I had a very similar club experience growing up. I don't remember kids being in 4-H in my suburban neighborhood (most were Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts), and what I wanted most was to be a Camp Fire Girl. My friend, Pam Thomson, was a year older and her mom was her Camp Fire club leader. Every morning when I walked to school I passed Pam's house where, to my amazement, there were 10 Blue Bird symbols painted on the driveway, each with the name of a girl in the club. I couldn't wait to join my own Blue Bird club and wear the nifty uniform (blue skirt, white blouse, red vest) that showed I belonged. I had that opportunity in third grade.
My most powerful experiences in Camp Fire came much later when, just as I entered middle school, a mom new to the area stepped in to take leadership of our then struggling group. Mrs. Williams was like no other adult I had ever met. That fall she invited us to a slumber party at her house to kick off the program year. Imagine that—a grown-up inviting me to a slumber party! We stayed up late and she pulled out a big piece of paper, asked us what we wanted to do in the year ahead, and scribed every idea. Talk about feeling empowered! That list became a roadmap to camping adventures, learning skills, writing books, organizing fundraisers, planning trips, and giving service. We worked with younger kids, learned to cook, volunteered at day camp and, over time, developed deep friendships.
What is the Club experience about? It's about independence and discovering who you are. It's about decision making and planning and recognizing the importance of following through on commitments. It's about being part of a team and learning how to be and work with others. It's about struggles and disappointments when things don't go as planned. It's about celebration and recognition when projects are completed and goals are met. It's about learning practical skills like balancing a check book or how to cook, and learning the bigger life skills like compromise and communication. It's about group. It's about belonging. Most importantly, the club experience is about relationships. 
4-H club and project leaders sit in a magical place with young people that few other adults enjoy. 4-H adults are an authority, yes, but more so a partner in a youth's journey of learning and discovery. Ideally, they help young people express their ideas, plan and deliver on those plans, and reflect upon their experiences. They listen and encourage, counsel and comfort, challenge and play. More often than not, they're in it for the long-haul, inspiring and witnessing a young person's growth over time. How many places can a kid find that from an adult who's not their parent?
This is the value of our 4-H club experience. It's a place to try new things, to learn, to belong. It's a place to realize who we are and uncover our gifts. It's people who know us, encourage us, challenge us, and care for us. A club can be a life-changing experience. I know this. Thank you, Mrs. Williams.
Marianne (red shirt) with Mrs. Williams (back row with long, blond hair) and their Camp Fire Club during their senior year in high school.
- Author: Marianne Bird
Many of you know that camp was, and still is, a passion for me. Not only was it where I learned to love the wilderness, I also discovered a lot about myself during those summers in the mountains. It was at camp that I decided that I wanted to work with kids, and lessons from those early experiences still resonate. Here's an example.
It must have been my second or third summer on staff (I was probably 20). I was excited about seeing my campers and the upcoming session. In my head I had planned a terrific week with tons of activities I knew they'd love: a hike up the Buttes, baking cookies in a reflector oven over the campfire, sunrise canoeing on the lake. I had dutifully recorded my plan on my Session at a Glance, every moment of the week scheduled. But when I shared my session plan with the camp director, Alicia, her comment surprised me.
“You know,” she said, “you shouldn't completely fill out your session plan before your kids get here.” Wait…wasn't that what I was asked to do? Plan the program? Make the magic happen?
“Really, you should give space and opportunity for their ideas,” Alicia continued. “Find out what they want to do with their week.”
I heard her comments, but didn't fully understand. Or maybe it wasn't that I didn't understand, but that I wanted to believe that I knew what would be best for a great week at camp. Planning ahead took all the guess-work out of daily schedules. Plus, how would campers know what would be the most fun if they weren't familiar with some new activities I wanted to try?
Listening to young people and making space for their ideas is one of many teachings that I've come to appreciate more with time. It seems self-evident that kids should have choice and input into their activities, especially in out-of-school time. My camp director knew a deeper truth that I didn't appreciate back then: that listening to young people and embracing their ideas nurtures feelings of importance and a sense of empowerment. Such opportunities are rare for kids.
There are many reasons the ideas of youth aren't heard. Sometime we're too busy or it's inconvenient. Sometime we feel the responsibility to get the plan done. It's easier to do it ourselves, or we think we know best. And sometimes kids are so use to adults running the show, they're hesitant to share what they're thinking.
4-H can and should be a place where young people are heard, where their ideas are valued, and where they have a sense of control in their club and projects. The environment we create should help kids find their voice, and we do that by listening.
It's still hard for me to step back and allow youth to step up when I think I have the answers. It's something I continually work on.
I think Alicia would be pleased to know that.
