I end this blog as I began 11 months ago. Although my title year representing the Northwest Region is not finished, I now begin a new phase of my journey as International LeatherSIR 2010.
My friends know that I am NOT a title type. At least, that WAS the popular belief. Now I realize that I make the title. There is no "type." Once I thought that titles meant little. Now, I see clearly what a title contest can do. It can help build community.
Eleven months ago I ran for the regional title and, as a result, grew closer to my brother, John. This week, I went on the ILSb ride and met amazing men and women from around the continent. Together we went on our journey. I represent these people as I begin my year. In short, titles can build brotherhood. ILSb's Mark Frazier emphasized this concept over and over again this week.
The experience is truly unique in our busy, Internet world. It is what might be termed a "slow" experience. Like the choice ingredients one uses in the culinary experience of "slow food," ILSb brings together potential family and then turns up the heat. As the process continues, one find himself/herself changed by the flame. It is not instant. And at times one feels quite jostled, much like liquid in a slow boil.
The result: An actual family is created. Not a virtual or rhetorical family. An actual group of brothers and sisters.
A great deal of thanks goes to my great producer and brother, Gene Romaine. My Leather family and my clan. And to my regional community.
Happy Dore Alley!
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Embracing the title -
Many years ago I sat next to Tony Deblase in an airport lounge after a Living in Leather Conference in Chicago, my sir by my side. Tony and my sir spoke for a while quietly in hushed tones. Suddenly, Tony turned to me and asked, "Have you ever thought of running for a Drummer title?"
"No, Sir," I replied. "I am not a titleholder type," I added in clarification.
His retort was simple and direct, "Think about it."
In the ensuing years, I thought about it. I thought about it while I was on the road touring with musical theatre. I thought about it while I was going from city to city teaching movement at colleges and dance studios. And I thought about it as I prepared to return to school for the third time near the end of the nineties.
Finally, I stopped thinking about it entirely. Over the years, people stopped asking me to run for a title. No one even suggested it. I had convinced everyone that I was a non-title type. Indeed, I was far too busy professionally to dedicate the time needed for such a task.
Two years ago, to the shock of my partner and to myself, I began thinking about running for Northwest LeatherSir. I saw things in the community that concerned me. I saw men donning leather and immediately claiming to be sirs. I saw boys putting themselves at risk. I witnessed political intrigues and gossip draining energy from the community that I loved. I decided that I could make the most difference if I stepped up and ran for a title.
During the last eleven months I believe that I have made a difference. My influence has been felt, not so much because of the things I say, but rather, because of the things I do from day to day. In short, the title has not been as much a spotlight as a follow spot. What I do matters whether shopping in casual clothes, in a suit at work, or in full Gear. People watch. They observe the protocols my boys keep 24/7 when they are with me. They know that I will go to great lengths for my boys, that I believe in them.
Today I travel to San Francisco to compete in International LeatherSIR. The road to this point has been interesting, not always the most direct one to the observer but quite direct from my vantage point.
In spite of the weeks of preparation, my head feels quite empty. But my heart is very much alive, the part of a sir that is foundational to all that we do in Leather.
Happy ILSb and Dore Alley Weekend!
"No, Sir," I replied. "I am not a titleholder type," I added in clarification.
His retort was simple and direct, "Think about it."
In the ensuing years, I thought about it. I thought about it while I was on the road touring with musical theatre. I thought about it while I was going from city to city teaching movement at colleges and dance studios. And I thought about it as I prepared to return to school for the third time near the end of the nineties.
Finally, I stopped thinking about it entirely. Over the years, people stopped asking me to run for a title. No one even suggested it. I had convinced everyone that I was a non-title type. Indeed, I was far too busy professionally to dedicate the time needed for such a task.
Two years ago, to the shock of my partner and to myself, I began thinking about running for Northwest LeatherSir. I saw things in the community that concerned me. I saw men donning leather and immediately claiming to be sirs. I saw boys putting themselves at risk. I witnessed political intrigues and gossip draining energy from the community that I loved. I decided that I could make the most difference if I stepped up and ran for a title.
During the last eleven months I believe that I have made a difference. My influence has been felt, not so much because of the things I say, but rather, because of the things I do from day to day. In short, the title has not been as much a spotlight as a follow spot. What I do matters whether shopping in casual clothes, in a suit at work, or in full Gear. People watch. They observe the protocols my boys keep 24/7 when they are with me. They know that I will go to great lengths for my boys, that I believe in them.
Today I travel to San Francisco to compete in International LeatherSIR. The road to this point has been interesting, not always the most direct one to the observer but quite direct from my vantage point.
In spite of the weeks of preparation, my head feels quite empty. But my heart is very much alive, the part of a sir that is foundational to all that we do in Leather.
Happy ILSb and Dore Alley Weekend!
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Fuck Titles!
A title does not make a leader. A leader makes a title.
I believe this is the problem that we face in the Leather Tribe relative to titles. That is, some believe that leadership comes from the sash.
Stage time does not make a leader. A loud voice does not make a leader. Outrageous behavior does not make a leader. Nor does a full wardrobe of purchased leather.
A Leader understands the opportunity that the title affords and uses it for the Tribe. A sashed Leader also understands that the most effective tool of leadership is the example he/she sets day to day. And that opportunities for true service only come through humility.
A few days ago I faced a firing squad of judges in preparation for ILSb. Not a pleasant experience. I stood steadfast and listened to feedback and thought, "Very important that I change the way I deliver my answers. I want to win."
At the end of the group interrogation a fellow sir approached me, someone who I hold in high regard. We are friends, with a mutual respect that most sirs possess, but not extremely close.
He expressed his concern about his boy and asked for my help. He went on to express his respect for me as a sir. I was touched deeply by his expression of respect.
Immediately after I was forced to contemplate what makes a leader. Was it the sash that persuaded this sir to ask for my help? No. Rather, it was the rapport that I enjoy with my own boys, the way that I live as a Sir.
I love parades. And I enjoy being on stage. By profession, I am a performer. But these things do not make me a Leader. Rather, it is my compassionate heart as a Sir; the fact that I care deeply about my boys. They are my family. And my community knows that I defend them like a Lion when they are in physical or emotional danger.
Titles are only relevant if titleholders understand that leadership originates from the heart, not from the sash. True leadership emanates from ones way of life.
Living in Leather!
I believe this is the problem that we face in the Leather Tribe relative to titles. That is, some believe that leadership comes from the sash.
Stage time does not make a leader. A loud voice does not make a leader. Outrageous behavior does not make a leader. Nor does a full wardrobe of purchased leather.
A Leader understands the opportunity that the title affords and uses it for the Tribe. A sashed Leader also understands that the most effective tool of leadership is the example he/she sets day to day. And that opportunities for true service only come through humility.
A few days ago I faced a firing squad of judges in preparation for ILSb. Not a pleasant experience. I stood steadfast and listened to feedback and thought, "Very important that I change the way I deliver my answers. I want to win."
At the end of the group interrogation a fellow sir approached me, someone who I hold in high regard. We are friends, with a mutual respect that most sirs possess, but not extremely close.
He expressed his concern about his boy and asked for my help. He went on to express his respect for me as a sir. I was touched deeply by his expression of respect.
Immediately after I was forced to contemplate what makes a leader. Was it the sash that persuaded this sir to ask for my help? No. Rather, it was the rapport that I enjoy with my own boys, the way that I live as a Sir.
I love parades. And I enjoy being on stage. By profession, I am a performer. But these things do not make me a Leader. Rather, it is my compassionate heart as a Sir; the fact that I care deeply about my boys. They are my family. And my community knows that I defend them like a Lion when they are in physical or emotional danger.
Titles are only relevant if titleholders understand that leadership originates from the heart, not from the sash. True leadership emanates from ones way of life.
Living in Leather!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
My community
What is community?
This weekend I enjoyed two plus days of non-stop play and comraderie at the Blood, Sweat, and Fear run. An event sponsored by the Dragon Clan, the run was designed to bring together Dragons, whelps, and Queer friends who enjoy heavy play.
The beauty of this run was its open nature. For more than 48 hours, about forty of us played and socialized as a Tribe. From the arrival of guests on Friday to the hour of departure on Sunday, people laughed, played, dined, and played some more. I did not think of the run as a collection of scenes. Rather, the play evolved seamlessly out of social interactions.
No terms exist to describe what we actually did, or to define the bonds that we created. We use words like "Tribe" and "community" to refer this collective. Often these words are co-opted by others, applied in hollow fashion to clubs and money-making endeavors.
To me, the community represents the cooperative that comprised this run. And it is the network of others who come together around the globe for similar runs. These are the people who feed my soul, the Tribe to which I belong together with my boys. This is my community.
This weekend I enjoyed two plus days of non-stop play and comraderie at the Blood, Sweat, and Fear run. An event sponsored by the Dragon Clan, the run was designed to bring together Dragons, whelps, and Queer friends who enjoy heavy play.
The beauty of this run was its open nature. For more than 48 hours, about forty of us played and socialized as a Tribe. From the arrival of guests on Friday to the hour of departure on Sunday, people laughed, played, dined, and played some more. I did not think of the run as a collection of scenes. Rather, the play evolved seamlessly out of social interactions.
No terms exist to describe what we actually did, or to define the bonds that we created. We use words like "Tribe" and "community" to refer this collective. Often these words are co-opted by others, applied in hollow fashion to clubs and money-making endeavors.
To me, the community represents the cooperative that comprised this run. And it is the network of others who come together around the globe for similar runs. These are the people who feed my soul, the Tribe to which I belong together with my boys. This is my community.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Portland Pride
Nothing better than a road trip with members of my Clan, especially when the purpose is to celebrate Pride!
Together with Gene Romaine, his boy Mitch, and my boy pj, we headed for Portland, Oregon on Saturday morning. Upon arrival we met Northwest Leatherboy dan who greeted us with hugs and a hearty laugh.
When we finally settled into our room at the Marriott, I decided to reward our trusty driver pj by binding him securely on the bed with three hanks of hemp rope. A happy boy who soon fell fast asleep for a well-deserved nap.
As if in counterpoint to pj's subservience, dan decided to tell jokes with his unique brand of irreverence and frivolity. After telling one joke too many, Gene and I gave him a time out in the corner. And to complete the "punishment" a trash can was placed on his head, in lieu of a dunce cap.
Hours later we joined more family and together enjoyed a hearty Thai meal.
To complete the evening, a trip to the Eagle for the Bear's monthly beer bust.
Next morning we confronted looming storm clouds and the promise of rain. And the weather did not disappoint. By the time we arrived at the parade holding area, the light rain started. It continued throughout the day.
Nothing stirs up a Pride crowd more than the crack of a whip. Gene and I spent the entire parade route cracking our whips in syncronicity, pausing only to face off in the occasion whip duel. As the parade moved on, the sweat began to run. Finally I shed my sash and shirt and let the cool rain wash over my torso. Freedom of movement at last.
Today I am sore, with the muscles in my back and right shoulder aching from the hundreds of throws.And I look forward to next weekend's Pride in Seattle, my home city.
Thank you, Blackout Leather Productions, for the opportunity to join you in celebration of Portland Pride.
Together with Gene Romaine, his boy Mitch, and my boy pj, we headed for Portland, Oregon on Saturday morning. Upon arrival we met Northwest Leatherboy dan who greeted us with hugs and a hearty laugh.
When we finally settled into our room at the Marriott, I decided to reward our trusty driver pj by binding him securely on the bed with three hanks of hemp rope. A happy boy who soon fell fast asleep for a well-deserved nap.
As if in counterpoint to pj's subservience, dan decided to tell jokes with his unique brand of irreverence and frivolity. After telling one joke too many, Gene and I gave him a time out in the corner. And to complete the "punishment" a trash can was placed on his head, in lieu of a dunce cap.Hours later we joined more family and together enjoyed a hearty Thai meal.
To complete the evening, a trip to the Eagle for the Bear's monthly beer bust.
Next morning we confronted looming storm clouds and the promise of rain. And the weather did not disappoint. By the time we arrived at the parade holding area, the light rain started. It continued throughout the day.
Nothing stirs up a Pride crowd more than the crack of a whip. Gene and I spent the entire parade route cracking our whips in syncronicity, pausing only to face off in the occasion whip duel. As the parade moved on, the sweat began to run. Finally I shed my sash and shirt and let the cool rain wash over my torso. Freedom of movement at last.
Today I am sore, with the muscles in my back and right shoulder aching from the hundreds of throws.And I look forward to next weekend's Pride in Seattle, my home city.
Thank you, Blackout Leather Productions, for the opportunity to join you in celebration of Portland Pride.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
The Butch Factor
The Butch Factor is a film that claims to examine the idea of masculinity in current Gay culture. During the course of the documentary, sports types, blue collar workers, rodeo cowboys, authors, drag queens, bears, and transmen are interviewed. However, in spite of the barage of images of Leathermen, the directors of this film chose to gag us. Rather than allowing a member of the Tribe to speak, Leather was used as a backdrop for the hypermasculine in Gay culture.
Recurring clips of men on Folsom Street wearing chaps and harnesses peppered the ninety minute film. And Tom of Finland's iconic images of muscled Leathermen were in abundance. Still more surprising was the fact that the entire history of Leather was appropriated to support the premise of the film without acknowledging to whom this history belongs. Even black and white images of early Gay motorcycle clubs complete with covers and jackets!
This film suggests that Leather has emerged from the shadows of Gay culture only to be placed within the darker context of the Other. An object of desire without voice. I believe this is necessary so as not to interfere with the prevalent drive by many Gay men for acceptance into society at large. Throughout the film, we are reminded that the men interviewed are just like heterosexual men. Except, of course, for the fact that they suck cock and fuck each other up the asshole.
As a Leatherman I do not want acceptance by either polite Gay society or the hegemonic group. Nor do I want the culture of my Tribe to be brought into the light and subsequently appropriated. I prefer to remain in the shadow together with my rebel Tribe.
Recurring clips of men on Folsom Street wearing chaps and harnesses peppered the ninety minute film. And Tom of Finland's iconic images of muscled Leathermen were in abundance. Still more surprising was the fact that the entire history of Leather was appropriated to support the premise of the film without acknowledging to whom this history belongs. Even black and white images of early Gay motorcycle clubs complete with covers and jackets!
This film suggests that Leather has emerged from the shadows of Gay culture only to be placed within the darker context of the Other. An object of desire without voice. I believe this is necessary so as not to interfere with the prevalent drive by many Gay men for acceptance into society at large. Throughout the film, we are reminded that the men interviewed are just like heterosexual men. Except, of course, for the fact that they suck cock and fuck each other up the asshole.
As a Leatherman I do not want acceptance by either polite Gay society or the hegemonic group. Nor do I want the culture of my Tribe to be brought into the light and subsequently appropriated. I prefer to remain in the shadow together with my rebel Tribe.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
