Exactly five years ago I was crowned Miss Kalkaska 2010. This interesting tidbit about me usually comes as a surprise to people who have recently met me, and can be a fun conversation starter after someone stumbles across random Facebook pictures of me with a crown on my head. It's hard to imagine me strutting across the stage modeling a sun dress to Rihanna's "Please Don't Stop the Music," or doing the grace walk in an evening gown, or even wearing make up, because let's be real, that doesn't happen often.
But yes, I did. I did the pageants, the parades, the festivals, the benefit dinners, the community service, the smiles and the waves, all the obligations of the community's queen and more. I loved it and hated it, and now five years later, my feelings on pageantry are still.... complicated. As with any institution, there are positives and negatives, and I feel that I cannot tell anyone that pageants are more good or bad because everyone needs to decide for themselves and their little princesses. As I said, it's complicated.
Ultimately, the underlying idea of pageants is bad. You're pitting hormonal and emotionally vulnerable girls against each other in a contest over a crown and vanity. I remember the coordinators doing a good job reminding us that in the end, we are all winners and that we should support each other and be confident in ourselves. But there is only so much you can do to convince a bunch of girls to not judge themselves and others when there is so much pride on the line. How can we not judge since the whole point is that we are being judged from even before the moment we step out on the stage in our too-high high heels? How can we not compare when you know you are getting scores and they are getting scores, and your inner-being is being reduced to a number on a scale of one to ten? How can you tell someone that beauty comes from the inside, when the judge just sees the outside masked in smiles, grace, and confidence that could be coming from the most heartless and vicious girl in the pageant? Pageants award acts and masquerades, not true beauty, and you could argue that no one actually wins. And that's coming from someone who won.
The point is, we all know the very concept of pageants is limited in its ability to truly evaluate character and maturity. But that doesn't mean that there are not incredible benefits by putting yourself in this bloodbath and trying to swim for it. There are a lot of qualities I like in myself that I owe to that pageant.
Competing in the pageant and representing my town gave me life skills that I have used in the real world every day since. Because in the real world, it doesn't always matter what you are on the inside. What matters is how you conduct yourself in front of others. Some people call this class. Some people call this being fake. Some people call it professionalism. However you see it, it's a useful tool for navigating real situations with real people, where on the inside you want to tell them off, but on the outside you maintain a level of civility as to not burn bridges that don't need to be burned.
I've learned to be okay with being the center of attention. Maybe that doesn't sound like a good life skill, but it has proved useful. It is kind of bizarre to walk around with a sparkly crown on your head and a full-length gown, it tends to draw some attention. What better way to get over stage fright and practice public speaking then when you feel like you stick out like a sore thumb and everyone's looking at you, because probably everyone is? It's perfect for future presentations. Just don't worry about it, you're already there, you already look funny, so you can either hide or rock it.
When you are a pageant queen, you are put in a lot of situations on the spot that you are not prepared
for. Host this, do this interview, go to this or that event, fund raise for this. You need to be flexible and ready to problem solve (usually among some drama), and the problems always seem to be changing, just like real life. I learned how to handle things as they came and to not show that I was overwhelmed while I figured things out.
I've learned how to deal with disappointment. I lost before I won, and that was hard. But sometimes in life we lose, and you have to keep going. I've learned how to deal with politics. Girls are mean, and at some point you have to choose if you are going to play the game or ignore it, just like we do in our professional and personal adult lives. You sometimes have to work and coordinate with people you don't like, and that's okay, because that will happen for as long as you live. So be gracious about it, it makes it easier.
I've learned how to do interviews. Oh how I've learned to do interviews! You're applying to be a beauty queen, for goodness sake. In order to stand a chance, you have to be just as, if not more, poised than any professional position you will apply for in your career. How you enter the room, how you sit with perfect posture, how you cross your ankles just so, how you smile, how you make eye contact with every judge during each question, how you must reek of confidence that you are the best candidate to represent your town; it must all be perfect and prepares you for those tough interviews down the road.
These are great skills that I am very grateful to have, and I had a lot of fun with my court that summer going around Michigan visiting festivals. They were amazing girls! But I still struggle with myself if the pageant was the right choice for me. It led me to be very competitive in things that are not critical to my happiness, like if I can play piano better than someone can sing or dance, or if I can look better in a dress, or if I can smile more charmingly. Do people like me more than they like someone else? Why is that important? It also made me do things that were just downright stupid for the sake of my own vanity. Like my farewell portrait. I made that thing ridiculously big so it would be bigger than previous queens'. Like really? On the way to the pageant, it had its own seatbelt! Eyeroll aimed at my past self.
But since it is pageant season, and those competing and those who have daughters competing are already knee deep with no way out, I will say this. The important thing is to remind yourself (or your little princess) that no matter what happens, the judges' decision does not have any weight in the value of your life. If you win, it does not validate who you are, because they do not actually know you. If you lose, it does not mean that you are worth anything less than the winner, because they do not actually know you or her. Pageants are useful for many things, finding true beauty is not one of them. Maybe in how you interact with the other girls, maybe in how you handle your defeat or success down the road, but not on the score card. True beauty is not put on a scale of one to ten.
Side note: I really loved being automatically made Trout Queen after my year as Miss Kalkaska for the Trout Festival, because I think it's a really fun title. But, when is Kalkaska going to start nominating a real Trout Queen from the community? If we can nominate an outstanding male community member as Trout King every year, I think we can do the same for the women in our community. It seems kind of lazy and slightly disturbing that we pair a grown man with a girl under the age of twenty as the festival royalty, and don't recognize the amazing women in Kalkaska. So let's get on that.
But yes, I did. I did the pageants, the parades, the festivals, the benefit dinners, the community service, the smiles and the waves, all the obligations of the community's queen and more. I loved it and hated it, and now five years later, my feelings on pageantry are still.... complicated. As with any institution, there are positives and negatives, and I feel that I cannot tell anyone that pageants are more good or bad because everyone needs to decide for themselves and their little princesses. As I said, it's complicated.Ultimately, the underlying idea of pageants is bad. You're pitting hormonal and emotionally vulnerable girls against each other in a contest over a crown and vanity. I remember the coordinators doing a good job reminding us that in the end, we are all winners and that we should support each other and be confident in ourselves. But there is only so much you can do to convince a bunch of girls to not judge themselves and others when there is so much pride on the line. How can we not judge since the whole point is that we are being judged from even before the moment we step out on the stage in our too-high high heels? How can we not compare when you know you are getting scores and they are getting scores, and your inner-being is being reduced to a number on a scale of one to ten? How can you tell someone that beauty comes from the inside, when the judge just sees the outside masked in smiles, grace, and confidence that could be coming from the most heartless and vicious girl in the pageant? Pageants award acts and masquerades, not true beauty, and you could argue that no one actually wins. And that's coming from someone who won.
The point is, we all know the very concept of pageants is limited in its ability to truly evaluate character and maturity. But that doesn't mean that there are not incredible benefits by putting yourself in this bloodbath and trying to swim for it. There are a lot of qualities I like in myself that I owe to that pageant.
Competing in the pageant and representing my town gave me life skills that I have used in the real world every day since. Because in the real world, it doesn't always matter what you are on the inside. What matters is how you conduct yourself in front of others. Some people call this class. Some people call this being fake. Some people call it professionalism. However you see it, it's a useful tool for navigating real situations with real people, where on the inside you want to tell them off, but on the outside you maintain a level of civility as to not burn bridges that don't need to be burned.
I've learned to be okay with being the center of attention. Maybe that doesn't sound like a good life skill, but it has proved useful. It is kind of bizarre to walk around with a sparkly crown on your head and a full-length gown, it tends to draw some attention. What better way to get over stage fright and practice public speaking then when you feel like you stick out like a sore thumb and everyone's looking at you, because probably everyone is? It's perfect for future presentations. Just don't worry about it, you're already there, you already look funny, so you can either hide or rock it.When you are a pageant queen, you are put in a lot of situations on the spot that you are not prepared
for. Host this, do this interview, go to this or that event, fund raise for this. You need to be flexible and ready to problem solve (usually among some drama), and the problems always seem to be changing, just like real life. I learned how to handle things as they came and to not show that I was overwhelmed while I figured things out.
I've learned how to do interviews. Oh how I've learned to do interviews! You're applying to be a beauty queen, for goodness sake. In order to stand a chance, you have to be just as, if not more, poised than any professional position you will apply for in your career. How you enter the room, how you sit with perfect posture, how you cross your ankles just so, how you smile, how you make eye contact with every judge during each question, how you must reek of confidence that you are the best candidate to represent your town; it must all be perfect and prepares you for those tough interviews down the road.
These are great skills that I am very grateful to have, and I had a lot of fun with my court that summer going around Michigan visiting festivals. They were amazing girls! But I still struggle with myself if the pageant was the right choice for me. It led me to be very competitive in things that are not critical to my happiness, like if I can play piano better than someone can sing or dance, or if I can look better in a dress, or if I can smile more charmingly. Do people like me more than they like someone else? Why is that important? It also made me do things that were just downright stupid for the sake of my own vanity. Like my farewell portrait. I made that thing ridiculously big so it would be bigger than previous queens'. Like really? On the way to the pageant, it had its own seatbelt! Eyeroll aimed at my past self.But since it is pageant season, and those competing and those who have daughters competing are already knee deep with no way out, I will say this. The important thing is to remind yourself (or your little princess) that no matter what happens, the judges' decision does not have any weight in the value of your life. If you win, it does not validate who you are, because they do not actually know you. If you lose, it does not mean that you are worth anything less than the winner, because they do not actually know you or her. Pageants are useful for many things, finding true beauty is not one of them. Maybe in how you interact with the other girls, maybe in how you handle your defeat or success down the road, but not on the score card. True beauty is not put on a scale of one to ten.Side note: I really loved being automatically made Trout Queen after my year as Miss Kalkaska for the Trout Festival, because I think it's a really fun title. But, when is Kalkaska going to start nominating a real Trout Queen from the community? If we can nominate an outstanding male community member as Trout King every year, I think we can do the same for the women in our community. It seems kind of lazy and slightly disturbing that we pair a grown man with a girl under the age of twenty as the festival royalty, and don't recognize the amazing women in Kalkaska. So let's get on that.
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