Since I have the possibility to be a leader for a team bigger than the '08 Summit team, I am looking back at what I did right and what I did wrong when I was captain. Obviously, the biggest problem was the one with Andy and tug. Since this was the biggest issue I had to deal with, it is the one that is most clear in my mind. It is also clear because I have run the scenario through my head a thousand times if I have thought about it once. I have read and reread the comments of my teammates about what they saw in my attitude. That being said, I believe that the only fault I have in this whole debate was poor word choice. Here is why (please note that I no longer dislike Andy, nor did I dislike him then. I have a much more objective view and am literally trying to find fault in myself in this.)
When Andy started having poor technique during tug, I went to him about it multiple times in private during pratice. He never listened to me. I went to Everett and asked him to talk to Andy. Andy didn't listen to Everett. I gave Andy the benefit of the doubt and assumed he was doing it just to be beligerent and would stop once we actually competed. He did not. I was going to go to him that Thursday night and tell him that he needed to do do tug the right way (the right way being the way that would give us the highest chance of winning) or I would pull him out of tug and put someone else in (that someone else would have had to be me because Jeff and Brian were already in seven events each and couldn't possibly do anymore, leaving me as the only person who could legally take his place.) This is when Andy decided to take it upon himself to call ME out publicly. I did nothing to provoke this. I merely made a statement of fact when I wrote.
"Andy and Rebecca scare the crap out of me when the reach. If either of them try to do at Summit what they did at locals, they are going to get destroyed."
Contrary to what I have been accused of, this was not me publicly chastising Andy. This was a completely innocent comment about the way he and his sister were using improper form. I didn't "chastise" either one of them. I simply commented that "It scared the crap out of me" and also stated the fact that "when we play a good tug team and they do that, they are going to get destroyed", which ended up being true.
So as for the first accusation that I "publicly chastised Andy", the documented fact remains that I did no such thing.
The second thing that I was accused of was "mildly cussing him out", which I will admit, I should not have done. I should have picked my words much more carefully. However, I will not apologize for saying nothing at all. Andy called me out in public. Because he called me out in public, I felt the issue needed to be resolved in public. The second reason that I attempted to resolve the issue right then and there is because I was basing my actions on Matthew 18:15-17. For those who don't know it off the top of their heads (I'm included in that category)
15 "If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. 16But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses. 17If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church. And if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.
Though the sin was not solely against me, it was against the team, I still feel the principle applied. I went to Andy, as the captain, and asked him to stop, then told him to stop. When he didn't, I went to Everett. That makes two people who had told him to stop. I was willing to give Andy another chance before I subtly removed him from the game to avoid his own embarrassment in front of the team, but when he made it public, I decided that going to the entire "church", or team, would be a better option. I chose the wrong words to speak, which alienated my teammates from actually supporting the decision. However, I have Biblical backing for what I chose to do. I just chose the wrong words (or really the wrong word) to do it.
Another accusation that was brought against me was that I was being biased, which I repeatedly said I was not. I was told that I had been biased on more than one occasion, which no one ever showed me proof of. The only thing that even remotely resembled proof was Brian's statement when he said
"I could cite names and give examples of different times with different people in events that you changed, if you were to be truly unbiased you would go by times and consistency, not just who you think is more athletic."
Unfortunately, this has absolutely no merit seeing as Brian never saw the times. The only thing that Brian ever saw was my decision on who to run in which event, after I had already hammered out who was on the team. Obviously, I changed the events multiple times due to injuries, missed practices, and so on and so forth, but Brian never saw a thing beyond the finished products, including the times. The only people who saw the times during tryouts were Everett, Arielle, and I. Obviously, everyone heard the times during the times we ran balloon and basketball. Whoever had consistently better times during practice was allowed to run the event, regardless of their athletic ability or their years in AWANA or any other outside factor.
And all subsequent accusations about my attitude were based on these things. Since I have just shown that I did nothing wrong in any of these instances, my poor attitude was only due to being accused of doing things wrong that were, in all actuality, not wrong. I did not err in any of the things I did except word choice. And as far as word choice, I did not think that it would be that big a deal since Andy himself advocated the use of the word, but others got offended and in that I was wrong.
I am perhaps the only person who still thinks about this, though I am surely not the only one who remembers it. I have thought about it more times than I can tell and have run as many scenarios through my head as I possibly could. I believe that my poor choice of words was to blame. Had I used better words, my team might have been more inclined to support the way I decided to handle the situation. But, that is the only thing I would change if I were to go back now and change it. I think I have sufficiently shown that my decisions were not only the right ones, but were actually Biblically based.
In hindsight, I believe I handled it in the way it needed to be handled (minus my poor word choice). As far as being self-righteous, I did far more right in this situation than I did wrong. My "self-righteousness" was not without warrant. I did what I needed to do, when I needed to do it and, again, minues the word choice, how I needed to do it.
I hope this clears up a few things about why I did what I did and, if anyone still reads this, helps you to realize that I was not at fault in many of the things that I was accused of doing wrongly.
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It is now 12:01am. Today, I leave for Summit.
This is an odd sensation for a 35-year old.
I reread my blog posts tonight. This blog had been hidden away in my bookmarks for years, a memory of me lurking in the shadows. I cleaned out my bookmarks today, but I had opened the blog two days ago. I don't know why. I opened it, but read nothing. At the time, I wasn't sure I wanted to but having read it the complaints of my former self, I'm not sure what growth there has been in the last 18 years.
18 years. My senior year of Summit was half my life ago. That is unfathomable to me.
Like everyone, my life has changed since then so as to be nearly unrecognizable. I'm married, for better or for worse, I have a daughter who is 7 and cruising through her AWANA verses that would make even Shaney envious, and I'm sitting here at a folding table in our rental house, surrounded by dozens of religious studies books preparing to teach a class in church on the Book of Acts. But instead of doing that, I'm reading the disgruntled ramblings of an 18-year old.
My life is different, but not me.
Last weekend, I drove three and a half hours at the request of an ultimate disc team in Houston who want me to play with them this summer at Super Regionals in Colorado. They liked me so much, they asked me to be "out of town captain" (a nicety as I am probably the only out of town player this season). I also found out last week that I missed being elected as captain of my Open division team by a single 5th place vote. I thought it was a given, but being the oldest on the team, I guess I should be honored I got that far. It seems relevant to note that this is the only team I've played on which I have not captained outside of UNT, having transferred my sophomore year.
Do you know how I spend my time? Studying religious studies so I can teach on Acts, not to the youth group that Brian and I once dreamed of, but to a group of 60 year olds at my Presbyterian Church. Yes, Presbyterian. Eighteen year old Marcelo couldn't have told you the first thing about Presbyterians, nor could he have dreamed that he would be elected as an Elder within a year of formally joining the church after being out of church for over a decade (perhaps I'll write on that some day.) Where can you find me Sunday nights? Hill Country Bible Church's AWANA program where I leader 1st grade and the new Sparks director asks my opinion constantly. This weekend, I'll skip the final day of Summit, missing games, platinum round, and citation ceremony so I can race back to Austin to draft in the fantasy league that Jon and I started all those years ago than Andy was in and that Brian is now in. Yes, Jon and Brian are still my best friends. We talk every day. Brian told us last week that he's going to be dad to a little girl. He's going to be great, but I'm not sure he knows that yet. After two years in Denton at UNT, I moved back to Austin to go to the University of Texas at Austin. I graduated with the exact two degrees I had wanted to in 2007: English and Religious Studies.
In 18 years, everything has changed except for me.
How do I know I haven't changed? Because on my way home from the grocery store tonight, I had an imaginary conversation with a man I've never met but will meet this weekend about the records for AWANA games and how nearly two decades later, I still haven't let go of the injustices done to us.
Reading back my own running commentary on Summit, I'm surprised at how non-confrontational I was in posting about it. We had a berth in Gold round outright stolen from us; the line judge even admitted it and apologized, but it was too late to fix it. In the words of one of my favorite author's in his most popular book, so it goes.
What irked me most was the record book.
There, at the top of the page, for 18 years, was a church that was not mine, a name that was not mine, and a number that was bigger than the one I posted. We reset the record in Boys Basketball Relay in 2018. Our time was under 8 seconds. The record as it is set, was set in the same year, same day, same heat, one circle over from mine. How do I know we set the record? Because I was the first one in that gymnasium to finish the heat. The team whose name is still in the record book was competing against Olympic Bible Fellowship, the team full of my friends from Washington (Hi, Julia, Megan, and Noelle! I don't think you'll ever read this, but I still think about you not infrequently and still regret not being able to go and visit you with Paul all those years ago.) I looked up to see how Olympic had done and saw the team that set the record finish their heat after mine.
But my church's name is missing from the record book.* And yes, half a life time later, it still bothers me.
For the fame of HIS name indeed.
I want the adulation. I want to be remembered. I want people to know I was the most decorated AWANA participant in Texas history (as far as I know. Certainly in the 5+ years on either side of 2008 I was.) I remain the only person from my church to ever earn a spot in Gold Round in games and Platinum Round in quiz while also coaching a team into Gold Round in games and Platinum Round in quiz. I coached a middle school team that was able to take events cleanly from their high school, summit-going counterparts. I was very good.
And really none of it has been for the game of his name.
I haven't publicly said this, but I'm what you wouldn't call an "agnostic Christian". You wouldn't call it that because most people believe they are mutually exclusive terms. That in itself is a dogmatic belief. The idea that you have to believe a certain thing to be right with God is a dogma that I don't share with evangelicals.
What did "For the Fame of His Name" even mean to me at 17? Do I know what it means at 35?
It didn't mean make lifelong friends, that's for sure.
I never spoke to Arielle again after our final Citation ceremony. We were always at a distance because she was one of only two girls I had any interest in at AWANA and she had a boyfriend. I can still remember her laying out at the pool at Summit, wearing a polka dot swimsuit that would have left most of the girls in our club aghast had they seen her.
Shaney and I had a falling out over her demands that a pastor accused of sexual impropriety step down immediately, before facts were even learned. Having also been accused of something similar while I was a leader at club, I was adamant that the facts should be laid bear before punishment was dealt. She didn't appreciate that and defriended me. I chastised her, not for disagreeing or her views, but for throwing away our friendship over it. I say friendship, but I don't know that we were ever that. When I was nine years old, I used to fantasize about doing things to keep her away from me because of how much she hovered around Grace, the girl I was and wanted to be constantly around. Shaney was brand new to the church from California and nine year old me could not possibly have given her the friend she clearly needed. Nor could we be friends over something like innocence and believing victims apparently.
Jonathan is my oldest "friend." Having met when I was one and a half and he was two, there has never been a time in my life when he wasn't my "friend." Except for right now. I still count him as my oldest friend. I'd still drop what I was doing if he ever called and needed something. I expect he'd do the same. But we never do that, so how good of friends can we be? Still, of the people in this list (and the list is not over), he is the only one I still talk to, though it is on a yearly basis if that.
Benjamin was his little brother and I was never friends with him, though he tagged around Jonathan not infrequently.
You know who I actually talked to when I was out of high school? Rose. That's it. You know why? Because she dated Brian briefly. I never told him that we also had a fling later because for some reason, his exes seemed to gravitate towards me once they dumped him or vice versa.
I was never friends with any other girls on my Summit team.
And then there is Brian. We have been best friends since (officially) high school, though we were close in middle school and even elementary school, with some animosity on both sides. Nothing could separate us now. Nothing could have separated us in high school either. I realized several years ago how spoiled I am to have my best friend still. The girl I mentioned above? Grace? She moved to China when she was 12 and I was 10. I didn't talk to her for about 15 years and when I did, I asked how Caryn was. Caryn had been her best friend in elementary school. I found out they had stayed friends through high school, but when Grace moved back to Texas and ran away from her aunt and uncles house, it wasn't her cousin who told where she was; it was Caryn. Caryn told because she was worried about her and Grace never forgave her. So it goes. Same with Rachel and Ally. I asked once how the other was and she said "I don't know." It's unfathomable to me that people so close could just give up on each other like that. I gave up on plenty of people from high school, but I wasn't close to them. Plenty of people from high school gave up on me, but I was close to them. It still hurts.
Finally, we come to Andy. If I am the hero of my own story, and I doubt that I am, he's is undoubtedly the antagonist, though I also am very much the antagonist. The boy who slapped me in a previous blog post? It was Andy. I knew then and I know now. He was upset that when Frank gave the rule that you have to use your "left hand", I pointed out that Andt was left handed and Frannk changed it to "off hand", which prompted a full on slap from Andy. Thank God Brian held me back.
I don't know all of Andy's story, though I undoubtedly know a great deal more of it than he does. He was included in Jon's and my fantasy league for several years until he just stopped showing up. I invited him to our draft parties every year and he showed up maybe once. I was not the kindest person to him in high school. I didn't know then what I know now and if I did, I probably still would have been the same person. But his mother told me something once that has stuck with me.
In Rebecca's, Andy's sister's senior year, I was sitting at a Table with Jon and Andy's parents. I had coached and we were all eating at a fast food place. I had mentioned something about Andy and how I probably could have been nicer in high school. His mother effectively blamed me for the way Andy turned out because I was harsh on him. It was so jarring to me that I asked Jon when we got into his truck if he'd noticed and he absolutely had and that the assessment wasn't fair. Andy was an adult and had to be responsible for himself at some point.
If I knew then what I know now, I wonder what I would have been like. Hopefully how I would be now.
I know Andy had it rough. I know he had a complex. I don't say this next part to be arrogant or haughty, but say it only as a truth necessary for understanding. I was who Andy wanted to be. I was attractive. I was intelligent. I was (moderately) well-liked. If not well-liked, I at least had the respect of my peers. I was extremely athletic and always better in the competitions in which we both partook. He was never on my level in any of it. The only place he was ever better than me was in math, an area in which I had no interest.
I can see now how hard it would have been to live in my shadow. To be passed over as games captain; to be subject to the whims of your peer, the one you presumably considered your rival; and to be the third wheel of a friendship even after high school. I think, to some extent, there was also shame involved.
It is 1:12am. Tomorrow, I leave to Summit.
It's 30 minutes from my sister's in Bedford so I made last week decisions to volunteer. I will be helping to judge quiz, a horribly irony considering I know a great deal of what they are learning to be flat out wrong and misinterpretations of the original intent of authors or facts about the formation of the Bible. Moses, did not write Exodus or Leviticus, but Friday morning, a student will get up there and say exactly that and I will sit in a chair and tell the judge that they are correct. Yes, they gave the book answer. Yes, the book lead them astray.
The books of Genesis and Exodus are so much more alive, so much more beautiful, and so much more interesting than evangelicals and AWANA make them out to be.
I know AWANA Summit will be different than the last time I went. That was my wife's ex-boyfriends senior year. I walked across a frozen street to Wendy's with him and another senior as a 24-year old leader. Should I have? I do not know. They were both adults, so I feel no remorse other than not punching him in the face in retrospect. But I didn't know how he was until my wife told me. Now I do.
Just know, I tried to include him. It was partially out of guilt and trying to make up for not recognizing that the guy I thought was annoying and trying too hard to be like me, really did want to be like me, or at least accepted by me. And I couldn't do that. I could only be friends with the ones I wanted to be friends with. Well, two for three or so isn't bad.
I am 35 years old now and I don't feel a day over 24. My teammates didn't think so either. I met many of them for the first time last year and when I told them how old I was, they didn't believe it. I don't know if I have aged well or if my personality growth was stunted.
I'm going to Summit tomorrow. It's an odd thing to realize. I haven't been to Summit in over 10 years. Back then, I walked across a frozen street in the greater Chicago area, attempting to get to any fast food place, with two 18-year olds, one of whom was street with my wife's ex-boyfriend. I didn't know then that they were dating. If I had known what he was like, I would have punched him in the face and left him in the snowdrift.
Even back then, Summit had changed. My senior year, there were 63 teams. So many teams, we had something like 5 or 6 circles with around 3 heats per circle. The last time I went to Summit, there were half that. They played on carpet in a large gathering room in a church. My junior and senior year, we took over hotels in Denver and in Jacksonville. We had so many students, we were using massive blocks of rooms and conference centers within those hotels. The one in Denver was called "Adam's Mark". Eight months after Summit, the Adam's Mark was bought by a San Francisco group and rebranded as a Sheraton Hotel. It had been Adam's Mark for 50 years. Nothing lasts forever.
I can't remember the name hotel in Jacksonville. After a quick search, it looks like it is currently called "Hyatt Regency". It too was an Adam's Mark in its past life, but ceased to be such in 2005.
In my search, I happened to find a video from Gold Country Baptist from 2008, the exact year we competed with them. I found a shot I didn't know existed until I just saw this video. It is me sitting only a few feet away from Tana. To my knowledge, it is the only picture I have of us.
_______________________________________________________________
I went on a 20 minute excursion through facebook to see what everyone was doing. Most everyone is married. Andy isn't, but he seems to have found a group of like-minded individuals, which is unfortunate considering in several photos he's wearing a MAGA hat. Some people cannot be saved.
It's 2:20am and I leave for AWANA Summit this afternoon.
I was 25 when I stopped being a leader in AWANA. I was 34 when I started again. I say stopped. I was kicked out. Truthfully, I don't know why I was. I have narratives in my head. I know parts of it. I know that we were lied to and that one man decided he wanted to stay in control of the program and so he lied to us. He lied to students. He lied to leaders. He lied to parents. And when he and the director of Trek were called out, the Trek Director gave him a knowing smile, held up a hand in farewell to him alone, and walked out of a meeting in which he was being asked to politely step down.
I'd never seen such slimey cowardice in person.
However, the next day, I witnessed another version of it as my fellow leaders decided not to pursue the action they'd sworn to take and instead, all of them chose to walk out of AWANA together. I wasn't ready to do that, but without them, I couldn't walk back in those doors. It wasn't the evil one or the slimey one who kept me out. It was my friends and their unwillingness to act.
In my facebook browsing, I found the evil one's facebook. I should probably stop calling him that, but the Bible says it is better to have a millstone tied around his neck and if what awaits him truly is so bad, he must be evil. And rest assured, it does await him. He took a team to Summit two years ago. I think that was after he divorced his wife. We loved her. She was amazing and he didn't deserve her. I sincerely hope she realized that too and left him and not the other way around. As much as she he didn't deserve her, she didn't deserve that more.
I wonder if I'll see him. I wonder if he'll know me. He should. I haven't changed, remember?
I wonder if I've forgiven him.
I told him I did. The last time I saw him. He was yelling and I gave him a hug. It was an awkward thing to do, but I realized in that moment that as much as I loved AWANA and all it had given me, how much I wanted to give back and teach kids to love the Bible the way I did, not the gross way the church teaches them, as much as I needed AWANA, he clearly needed it more. So much more that he'd commit heinous sins to keep it. Was it right? Of course not. But I had hoped it would heal whatever part of his soul had soured. I don't know if it did. but 10 years later, I don't think I've forgiven him truly. Pragmatically, I did. I let it go. But in my heart, soul, and mind? I still feel that contempt and it will probably never leave me. There aren't many things I won't forgive and forget. What he did is involuntarily one of them.
I don't think I have nerves. After all, I'm not competing. But I know what awaits me and it isn't what it used to be. The grandeur of the hotel, the nearly if not over 1,000 students in the giant hotel. Where a homeschool kid like me could truly find someone like me to befriend instead of the 10 or so kids I'd grown up with my entire life and was forced into relationship with. It's no wonder none of those friendships lasted when we weren't forced into proximity. Alex, Megan, Jodi, Tana, Noelle, yes these are all girls' names, Julia, Jocelyn, Allison.... I'm not sure if I was girl crazy or that's just who naturally gravitated towards me. I know Jodi and Tana was my doing. Jocelyn was a long-time friend from Scholarship Camp (I refuse to go down that Rabbit Trail.... or that subsequent "Rabbit Trail"). Allison, though that was actually Brian's doing because I had been talking to my aforementioned Olympic friends on the rood when he noticed and talked to them. I didn't even mention "the girl in the red dress" who I found out later through the AWANA forums (no, but really). Her name is Lauren and she and I had a thing even after Summit was over. She got married and actually moved to Austin. Small world. I have not seen her around though.
I'm going to go out on a very short branch and say that this time, Summit is going to be different. There won't be friends. There won't be memories. I'm not going with my best friend. I'm not meeting up with camp friends who I push into the pool only for them to hop back out glaring at me in faux anger, dripping in her tiny black bikini (it was time to drop the hypothetical plural. It was Jocelyn.) No running around the hotel, sneaking away, waiting in the lobby for a familiar passerby. Maybe I will see a face or two from the distant past. Maybe. doubtful it will be friendly.
I don't know why I'm going. I told myself it's to volunteer, to give back, to see what Summit is like half-my-lifetime later. I probably want those memories back. Want to relive even a moment of them one last time.
I won't.
But I wish I could.
You know what's insane? I was intending to write commentary on my commentary and I got side tracked in the Joycian stream of conscience that I cannot wait to read in another lifetime. I'll be 70 then. God, but that number looks terrifying so close to my pronoun.
Part of this stream has been distance. I had just read my account of what happened and was undoubtedly an unreliable narrator (what teenager isn't?) But I remember some things.
I remember the plans I had in place with Brian to put together a world-beating team.
I remember the disheartening I felt when the teammates I desired were not going to be such.
I remember losing my patience time and time again with the dregs going to AWANA Summit.
I remember reading the book by Andy Stanley that Everett got for me and for Arielle and for Shaney (who was quiz captain). I read that thing cover to cover. I highlighted. I made notes. I referenced it. And I think I took it to heart because everywhere I've gone since, I've been chosen as a leader. I think the book at something to do with that. I can't tell though because that copy of the book is lost to me. I gave it to the next leaders with a note in the front, advice on how to be a good leader. I don't remember what I said, but I do remember I instructed them to do the same and pass it on. A sort of legacy that would be left behind. I know it got passed down for at least three years and then I think someone forgot about it, didn't care, or lost it. No one I know would know what happened to the book. I wish I knew.
I remember my elation when "terrible" became "better" became "good enough" became "winning" became "we're the all-time greatest in this event".
I remember my heart beating too quickly on the bleachers of the Hays High School gymnasium after round 2 of locals. I remember the perfect set up of music I don't remember if it was something I chose (probably) or something that I read meaning into (probable) but "Like Toy Soldiers" by Eminem and "Darkest Nights" by As I Lay Dying set the perfect tone for me. Marshall Mathers thoughts on being a leader in a situation bigger than himself. Tim Lambesis pre-prison screaming about how quickly one forgets that certain things are meaningless.
Like having your name etched in a record book.
I remember the devastation of not having my name etched in a record book. I remember the devastation of my church not going to Gold Round because of a line judge's mistake. I remember none of the quiz questions. I remember few of the games events. I have mere snapshots of those things and stories surrounding them because my best friend's former favorite past time was outlandishly true stories about me.
I remember people. I remember them well. I miss them deeply. They are far-fewer-button-clicks-than-I-have-entered-here away from me catching up with some of them. I added two of them tonight.
No, it wasn't the evil one and it wasn't Andy.
What I don't remember is much about the fight with Andy. Thank God for the comment sections, but having re-read it, minus the redacted portions which only God himself knows now. But what is still visible is damning. Not for me, but for all the others who inserted themselves into the situation.
I was 17 years old and firmly believed I was in the right. I have chastised my former self for many things. I've apologized to people for my past more times than I can count, but here, in this venue, I realize that I did myself a disservice.
The truth of it was that a member of my team was told by his coach and his captain to play the event in the most efficient, effective way and he refused. He did it his way. It was terrifying and it worked the times it needed to. Until it didn't.
Who wants to take orders from the one casting such a long and darkened shadow?
The venue in which he chose to challenge authority, not just mine but his coach's as well, was the venue in which I responded. This is not the agora; it was effectively my personal blog that I allowed others to peek into to get a better idea of me and who I was. I take no issue with my former self giving the correction I gave.
Years of follow up leadership has shown me only that I was right and justified. What I expected to read as a humbling experience of youth misguided was a homecoming to a version of myself I had forgotten. It was easy to be attacked by someone I did not like. It was difficult to be attacked by people for whom I had so much respect. And to see that in those moments, yes, they meant well, but they erred in their correction of me and I withstood that storm, it makes me proud that, what times and seasons have changed, I am still unequivocally and forever me.
It is 3:18 in the morning. Today, I leave for Summit.
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