What Do We Expect Of Titleholders?
June 26, 2003
Robert Davlot
It is quite a milestone this year when the first man from the United Kingdom was selected as International Mr. Leather. For many years, the concept of leather titles and leather contests have been a somewhat difficult sell to folks in the UK. After all, my English friends would point out, they have had a 1,200-year head start with aristocracy to discover that titles often come with little in the way of solid job description or actual purpose.
When talking about leather titleholders outside of that exclusive little circle itself, the most common question is, "Well, what do they do?" Out of a few thousand titleholders that have come and gone in the leather community, only a relative handful evoke the dimmest light of recognition, let alone are perceived as having made lasting contributions to leatherdom (or life) as a whole.
Even those who are the greatest supporters and producers of contests occasionally wonder among themselves. One such international contest producer voiced suspicion that this is what passes for mental health screening in our community: Identify the truly dangerous ones and mark them with a sash so we can keep an eye on them. Rather like tagging killer sharks, rouge bears or mad dogs.
Several very prominent contest veterans have opined that to run for a title, one must have a very fragile or damaged self-esteem to begin with and therefore titleholders must be treated with great care, lest they break. I strongly disagree. If we are to continue to elevate people to these sorts of positions, if we continue to perpetuate the myth that these are somehow "leaders," we insult them by coddling and patronizing them. From those to whom much is given, much is expected.
People's expectations of titleholders can be unreasonable, unrealistic, contradictory and frustrating. That is an excellent excuse for many to not even try. For those who wish to be more than merely a name in a chronological listing of those who have held your title in the past, may I present some suggestions?
Dog Shows And Dilettantes
Many folks figure a titleholder should just get through their year without being arrested or ending up in a front-page scandal. That's fine for some. Some just try to show up to most local events, supermarket openings and fundraisers. That's great- better than many. Some go beyond to show up at IML, IMsL, MAL, ABW and the rest of the alphabet soup- ask them what they did their year and they will give you their travel schedule.
Let's face it: Any prize Pekingese manages to show up to all the right dog shows. Just spending your travel fund (should you be so lucky to get one) is not a note-worthy accomplishment.
So, what DO people expect? If you wish to make an impact, what do people look for? What makes the sort of titleholders that folks look back on and say, "Oh, so THAT'S what titleholders do..."?
Money.
The bottom line: Money talks and bullshit walks. If you raised a ton of money for community causes, that counts for something. Many times, the leather community has won initial grudging respect from mainstream gay or local charities because we kept their lights on or their doors open. It may not seem like the most fair or noble sentiment, but cash speaks very loudly and makes friends very quickly.
Solutions.
Even if fundraising is not your forte, do what you can do. See a need and fill it. Write a book, create a community resource, revive a local title or event, start a police-community liaison program. Create a new community business or service. Make sure that leather elders in your community get to their doctor's appointments, assemble a manual for fundraising, start a dinner or in-person discussion group. A big idea like the "Leather Day of Caring" will be remembered (particularly if it becomes an annual event). Even if your grand projects and great ideas are unsuccessful, keep going, keep trying and keep putting yourself out there. And remember, ideas are a dime a dozen. Everyone has ideas. The payoff is in the execution, the translation between concept and reality.
Travel.
It's not just being there, but what did you do when you were there? Did you give a workshop? An inspiring speech? Did you mediate a local dispute? Talk to the local media? Did folks feel better about themselves and their community after you left?
Response.
It doesn't have to be extravagant, but people do expect more response from a titleholder than what they would get from any magazine centerfold, a store mannequin or a waxworks. A warm smile, a handshake and a greeting (even though you might find the person unattractive). A few lines in answer to a letter or an email, even just thanking them for taking the time to write. If you need to set aside a couple quiet, exclusive hours each week to deal with correspondence, do so.
Scale.
It may not be your destiny to take on the entire world. Even international titleholders find they sometimes need to step back, make their contribution on a local level and on a manageable scale. There is a difference, however, between downsizing and disappearing. It requires balance and we expect you to work out those issues. Remain accessible, but not overwhelmed. Those global contacts you have made still deserve the courtesy of an occasional note or correspondence even though you are focused on work in your own backyard.
Longevity.
That primary common trait of all titleholders who have made a lasting impact? The title year was only the beginning. Most people in the community expect you to be a one-year wonder and then disappear, but a few ex-titleholders, thankfully, run counter to that stereotype. They are committed to this community and continue to work day after day, year after year long after the titles and the certificates of appreciation and the nominations for Man of the Year run out.
Stability.
Viewing things in the long haul also gives you a healthy stability and perspective to work through temporary situations and minor annoyances. You are expected to be somewhat stable. It is your right to try out a new personality, a new name, a new public image every week, if you want to- but that behavior does not inspire trust or confidence. "Stability" means folks know what to expect from you. They know where you stand. When you give your word, you are expected to keep it. When you make a commitment, you are expected to follow-through. Treat people and issues evenly, if not consistently.
Archive.
This could also be called "publicity." Either way, you need to tell people what you are doing. If you are a bit shy about putting out press releases or writing newsletters, get someone else to do it for you. We expect to hear about you. This is important. It may seem a bit self-promotional. It also may seem a bit scary. I suspect that the reason that many people don't like to talk about their accomplishments is not modesty, but that it opens their deeds up to criticism and scrutiny. But it is worth that minor risk.
We do not have a long history. For many reasons, it has not been very well recorded or preserved. The record of your accomplishments (even your mistakes) is a vital contribution to the collective pool of experience that is our leather tradition.
You might say that what a titleholder does to make a contribution to his community is pretty well what any other person would do. You also might say that you don't care what people think about your performance as a titleholder-- to which I might reply, "That sounds like a healthy attitude." But neither yours nor my healthy attitude will stop people from evaluating and judging titleholders (or leaders)- and I can guarantee that many will use one or more of the above criteria. You can bet your sash on it.
