Youth Activity Permission Slip & Release Form Page 1: Fill & Download for Free

Based on the details provided, it’s hard to give you a better answer than this:The BSA does not require “permission slips” for most activities like a weekend campout. They require health forms, Youth Protection training for registered leaders, and have the Guide to Safe Scouting as a reference for how to safely provide an outdoor experience like a campout. They do not require permission slips just to participate as a registered scout for most activities.Thus, in general, there are few instances where I can see not having the permission slip at a campsite being a problem. If the scouts are doing a particular activity where an outside service provider requires a permission slip, like going on a campout that includes going rock climbing at a privately run rock climbing facility that requires permission slips, then in all likelihood the scout without such a permission slip could not participate in the activity. Of course they could still be on the campout in general, just no climbing for them. That’s the climbing facility’s call, based on their rules.If the Troop has decided that they want a permission slip from the parents for the scout to participate in a particular event, that is within their rights, but the BSA has no guidelines for units that add such extra paperwork and how it is to be enforced. Without being glib, the BSA has their very specific rules and guidelines for how to safely participate in a wide variety of activities, and as long long as those are followed the BSA will never give you grief. They will provide insurance for those participating in BSA activities that comply with all of their requirements, but permission slips are not usually one of those requirements unless you are talking about SPECIFIC activities that are more arduous and/or more dangerous, such as going Backpacking at one of their High Adventure Bases like Philmont or going to the National Jamboree.To not totally side step your question, most troops have a fairly detailed policy on what happens if a scout is not compliant with the safety requirements for any event, which includes leaving contact numbers for contacting the parents. I would be on the phone right away if a scout was on an activity without the required equipment or paperwork. If the parent decides to be unreachable, we, as the responsible leaders would have to ensure the scout was safe, and go from there. There are too many unknowns to provide a more detailed answer. Lastly, yes, that has sometimes meant in extreme circumstances that we have had to have two adults drive the scout home, or wait with the scout until the parents arrived to take them home.Like all good scouts, the parents should “be prepared” as well.

I'm from “The Wooden Spoon Generation.” The spoon with the holes in it hurt the most. It had the least air resistance. The spoon with the holes in it left big round welts; The “Holey Wooden Spoon” raised circular polka-dots and temporary red blisters and green bruises on my skin- a sad Christmas tree ornament. I was lucky when the spoon either broke over my hard head or The Parent's rage exhausted and ran out of steam, wilting during the beating.I found out later as I grew older, that a good strategy to employ would be to scream as loudly as I could when I took the beatings. The louder I screamed, the lighter the thrashings would become. It worked.The last beating I got from The Parent was when I was eleven years old. I had swiped the loose change off The Parent's dressing table and bought bubblegum with it. I was a “little crook.” The Parent asked me if I took the money and I told Them I hadn't. I was also a “little liar.” My twitchy eyebrow gave me away. Damn my twitchy little eyebrow! Out came the “Holey Wooden Spoon." The Parent started flailing that spoon, and I started screaming (Academy Award level performance) except at the end it grew so comical that I blew it and started laughing. The jig was up.From then on The Parent employed a new, far worse strategy to punish me- They took away my privileges. From then on, whenever I was naughty I'd find myself grounded (nooo!) stuck inside, housebound with chores. I had no television, no music and no phone. I received no visits from friends. I wasn't having any fun. Loneliness was the worst punishment to inflict, afterall. The “Holey Spoon" was starting to look really good to me then. A few whacks and it was over, at least. This grounding punishment was tortuous. It lasted for days, weeks, months. YEARS.Overall, I'd say the beatings didn't in any way ruin me at all growing up. I turned out okay. I was a very well-adjusted individual.At almost 12, and still in roller skates, I was sneaking off during class to the coat room during school for a beer, and likewise into the restroom for a smoke. I got into a fight that year and had to sit in the library by myself with a concussion and neck collar reading books for a few days while class was in session. Seriously? Reading books is a punishment!?! Bring it on! Fuck you, Thomasina Rose. You can kick my ass any day of the week. I'd rather read than go to class. Western punishments rule!Growing up, we had to bring permission slips home to our parents which needed to be signed by them and returned to the school and placed in our individual files. They asked permission to use corporal punishment (i.e. spanking) to discipline the students. The Parent happily agreed and signed on the dotted line. I reluctantly handed in the stupid paper. They filed it under my name.I was in class one day when the intercom phone rang. Why was it every time that phone beeped all eyes turned on me? “Wendi, to the principal's office” said the teacher, followed by a classroom full of “uhhhhhmmmms.”The wall in the principal's office in high school was decorated with spanking paddles. They were painted green and gold, our school colors. There were made by students of Woodshop 101 (very funny.) “Do you know why you're here?” The principal looked at me over his glasses and I ran down the list of twenty reasons why I might be and decided to lie. In my most innocent voice I said, “No Sir, I do not. It must be a case of mistaken identity." Damn twitchy eyebrow chose that moment to spaz out and gave me away. I'd been caught smoking in the bathroom.The principal let me choose his “weapon”. I certainly didn't choose the one with holes. I got whacked three times but they were really easy pats, really. Not even enough pressure to crack a peanut. Please Sir, may I have another?I got to choose between suspension or the “spanking” and since a class trip was coming up I chose the latter. I stood at the desk and the poor guy was really embarrassed. He didn't want to do it. He liked me. I was a mischievous but good student. He counted onetwothree and barely touched me. I don't even think he opened his eyes. He was a decent guy. Big deal. I went on the trip with my entire class. Good times. I felt bad for him. I went back to class and of course being the liar I was in high school blew the whole story up out of proportion to make myself look like a hero in the school. In reality, those immature prevarications in my youth not only hurt my self-esteem but saw a good man's reputation suffer in a small town. The shame I live with for not telling the truth. I'm very sorry.I was “grounded” a lot. I skipped school. I cheated on my French test and was booted from the class (c'est dommage) and was arrested underage at a drunken teenage alcohol party which I helped plan, my Step-Parent having to come and bail me out of the Pokey, teary eyed and frightened (and I'd not even gotten my fair share of the 12-pack that night.)Western culture. I know about that. You guys have read some of my twisted answers, right? I've been transparent and honest with you. I've opened my life to you and been judged sometimes harshly (such is social media and I expect it.) You can't hurt me as much as the “Holey Spoon.” Seriously. That shit left imprints in my heart. I think Western Culture finally started to get it because look, there are damaged people such as myself running around spilling their guts on Quora. The aftermath of a literally “beaten generation.”I never raised a hand to my little kids, the ones I helped raise. I don't want them to be like me. Thankfully, they are not. They are beautiful in every way. Sticking them in a corner for a few minutes was all the punishment they needed. A slap to the soul was unnecessary.Somewhere in the past couple decades Western culture started to realize that the damage inflicted by the brutality of our youths and the scars we carried upon our souls were not worth passing on to our precious children. We put an end to the beatings for the most part.Today, in most schools in the USA if you lay a hand on your kid they are educated and encouraged to report you to the school authorities which they attend. Your kids are being taught to rat on you! Keep your hands to yourselves and stick them in a corner as any civilized person would do.As for me, I packed a suitcase and moved out literally 16 HOURS after accepting my high school diploma. It was that bad. still is. I haven't seen my folks in probably a decade. I'm messed up. Beating your kids into submission isn't the answer. What you're essentially doing (no matter what culture you're from) is beating the trust out of them. Trust me on this._________________________________________In Western culture corporal punishment is unnecessary. Sadly, those “permission slips” are still in schools in our culture today (1).The aftermath of corporal punishment may haunt a person for a lifetime (2)todayMother Upset After She Denied School Permission to Spank Her Son, But They Did It Anyway (1)Research on Spanking: It’s Bad For ALL Kids (2)

Your parent probably doesn’t want to pay for a gym membership for you. If you pay for your own membership, your parent may let you go. You may also be permitted to smooch freebie gym time (such as church youth group gym, or going with someone else as a guest to their membership), especially if you have your own transportation or bumming ride off of your friend. Unwillingness or inability to pay for a gym membership (and possibly drive you) is the most probable scenario.If your mom is just paranoid, try to get into school sports. Though your paranoid mom may not permit sports participation as permission slip is required and possibly also liability waiver. Some high school sports teams include gym time in their practices. Football especially (some high school even have a higher-end gym that is exclusively for varsity football player use only). Some soccer teams do gym time in preseason. Shot put / discus / hammer in track & field will also have gym time in practices both preseason and in-season.Some high school PE classes involve choosable sports / activities (by grading period or by semester), which could include weightlifting. Even a paranoid mom cannot prevent this. Even less preventable by paranoid moms is if you don’t have choosable activities in your high school PE and you just do a little bit of everything. This may include 2–4 weeks of weight training.