Size matters.

Perhaps that accounts for my disappointment that there wasn’t a larger leather contingent marching through town last month at Philly’s gay pride parade.  

Despite a healthy number of leather clubs and cliques in the Greater Philadelphia area, visible kinky folk at the 2009 parade were actually outnumbered by representatives of Repent America (who righteously told us that Jesus doesn’t approve of rimming).  

My boy and I enjoyed the event, even if we were flabbergasted by the Christian right’s attack on analingus. 

In the absence of a Bike Stop bar float, we walked with the Philadelphians MC (we’re associates of the leather club) and therefore were on ground level to volley back blasphemy at the religious zealots just a couple blocks from the judges stand.  We even shamelessly flirted with one of their sign-bearing, hot fundamentalist cubs, who didn’t dare look at us, lest he turn into a pillar of salt.  (There were quite a few of us looking for a salt lick.)

2008 MidAtlantic Leather Sir Andy Liu, a.k.a. Mama’s Chinese Gentleman, also walked with the Philadelphians MC.  In addition to promoting a Friday night play party at Philly’s professional dungeon space to kick off pride weekend, Andy proudly flagged his own particular tastes with hankies during the parade.  I think he had the right idea-- displaying symbols of sexual tastes not only promotes identity, but effectively advertises what pleasures might lay in store.  (And since I had no idea that he was into fisting, I also learned something new that day!)

Although some might argue that hanky codes are archaic (I personally find them as confusing as text messaging hieroglyphics), at least they are unlikely to generate the same kind of controversy or chuckles as a woman in pony get-up (complete with ears, horse tail and stirrups).  And to give her fair due, the whinnying noises certainly turned heads.

I suspect folks on the sidelines might have looked at us as a motley crew of sexual freaks, some of us perhaps more attractive than others, but probably none of us frightening.  Hopefully we looked approachable, accessible.  And I would REALLY hope that we looked fun (because if it’s not fun, we’re doing it wrong)! 

The goal of public displays should be to reach out to allies, prospective community members or potential tricks, not to offend or shock.  (Another good reason for me to personally stay clear of ass-less chaps on the streets of Philly… I’d scare both the horses and the play ponies!)

Of course, in the merriment that has become this annual tradition, I think what’s often lost is that “gay pride parades” have traditionally been viewed as political acts.  This is why most pride events have both a parade and a festival—the former is a political march, intended to make a powerful statement about empowerment through visibility, while the latter is a celebration of who we are, what drag we have to display, and what trinkets we have to sell (not to mention opportunities to meet up with friends and hook up with strangers).

More and more, however, Pride feels more like a hallow party.  Been there, done that, bought the tee-shirt.

While a drag queen with ripped fishnet stockings and an unflatteringly tight costume lip synched on the festival stage, later leaping down into the crowd to take money from children and shamefully promote alcohol consumption, I asked myself the same question as I had last year: why aren’t there more of us kinky folk represented?   

Is it that we don’t feel the need to politicize our (sex) lives any longer, or is it that we’re recognizing that Pride is more commercial than political?   Given the commercial nature of the Folsom fairs and the leather markets at major events like MAL and IML, it’s certainly not that leather folk are averse to being conspicuous consumers (but there was very little fetish commerce to be found, outside of the fabulous Passional Boutique vendor booth).  And we can’t assume kinksters feel alienated by queer events with Family Zones given that many kinky folks have families and children of their own.

Were the local leather men who hook up online too busy getting nasty in private up to come out to the festivities?  (This would not be an uncommon phenomenon in the leather community—consider that the majority of men who go to DC for MAL or to Chicago for IML attend smaller parties and skip the contests altogether.)  And perhaps that’s not a bad thing—contests don’t bond men (unless you’re one of the competitors), but cruising in the lobbies and getting together for workshops and play parties can.

In previous posts, I’ve suggested some steps that we may need to take to help build up our local kink community.   Public outreach and visibility is critical, which is why I think attending Pride events is one good way of reminding people of what options may be out there—we are present without the usual trappings that often make us seem unapproachable or intimidating.  After all, even if we’re decked out in leather, we’re hardly a visual threat when we’re holding hands on the city streets and singing “Delta Dawn” with a country twang thicker than Tanya Tucker.

But perhaps we need to stand back and ask ourselves some difficult questions:

1.) What barriers exist between us and potential members of our kink community?

2.) Are we clear on what it is we have to offer?

3.) Is what we’re offering valuable (or perceived as valuable) to someone not yet within the community, but who may be interested in exploring?  

Without having answers to all three questions, I don’t think we’ll be successful.  After all, if we can’t identify the barriers, we can’t break past them.  And if we can successfully overcome obstacles, we need to have a clear message to share about the joys of kink play and leather community to entice folks to take their next step.  And (perhaps most difficult of all), if we want to build community we will need to balance the needs of others with our own self interests… and in order to do so, we need to better understand what others want.  That means (in many cases) that we have work to do!

I will focus next month’s column trying to address these questions.  If you have answers to any of these questions, ideas that you would like to share, or even other questions that you think I’ve missed, I would love to hear them. 

For leather- or kink-curious folks who aren’t actively seeking community, I’m particularly interested in hearing from you!  What would it take to bring you out?  Personal guides or mentors?  A more welcoming atmosphere?  More sexually-charged meeting spaces… or completely non-threatening, non-sexually charged meeting spaces?  A hot kidnapping scene to move you out of your comfort zone? 

I welcome feedback and responses to this and my other writings at sir@scottdaddy.com.

This coming holiday weekend, my partner eryc and I will celebrate our relationship with a commitment ceremony at The Woods campground in Lehighton, PA.  

This will be a completely casual ceremony (shorts and shirts are fine-- less is more!) at 1pm on Sunday afternoon, under the white tent at the clubhouse.

So if you'll be around next Sunday afternoon, we invite you to join us for our special moment in a space that so much of us love so much.

We'll have some cake and champagne for toasting our new lives as legally recognized partners, but this will be an otherwise informal affair.  No gifts are expected or desired (unless you want to bring additional alcohol to keep the party going)!

I hope to see you there… after all, I want witnesses when eryc promises to love, honor and OBEY! 

 

President Obama has taken a step no US President has taken before him (including Clinton)... he's officially proclaimed this month to be Pride month for LGBT community!   (It's not the repeal of DADT, DOMA and other life-changing and discriminatory practices, but it's a start!)

http://www.whitehouse.gov/the_press_office/Presidential-Proclamation-LGBT-Pride-Month/

 

It’s not surprising that lots of leather folk enjoy gay pride month.  After all, like Halloween, it’s one of those few occasions where we can put on our gear in public spaces and be applauded for it (instead of getting funny looks or threatening gestures). 

 

Pride events celebrate the adage that more is more… and what’s the leather scene about, if not for taking archetypes and play to excess?  If it’s not fun, it’s not worth doing.

 

For the past few years I’ve taken the easy way down the gay pride parade route – on the float sponsored by the local leather bar, The Bike Stop (which was also the sponsor of my title contest).   Imagine no walking in the crowded streets AND getting free booze… all while people on the sidelines applaud you for doing absolutely nothing except for remaining standing despite the occasional bumps in the road.  If only life could be like that every day!  (Well, it is on weekends at The Woods campground, but that’s another matter.)

 

At any rate, I genuinely look forward to this year’s celebrations.  After all, I feel like a different man today than I was last year.   No longer in a relationship that constrains me or makes me feel like a “less than,” I’ve been learning to feel good about who I am and what I’ve accomplished, and to accept failures or missteps as a part of being human.  In short, to be proud of myself and of those around me for all the beautiful and messy things that we are.

 

These days I’m astounded by how much baggage I had been wallowing in, not even aware of it until words flooded my computer screen while writing this column.  Despite being a proud dom top, I’m surprised nobody slapped me. 

 

When I felt like my life was out of control, my body image was critical and a central focus.  I talked about it a lot.  No doubt, too much.

 

I was not able to control whether my husband said “I love you,” and I was not able to coerce a hug out of him without feeling even worse about myself (after all, I would question what kind of person has to ask his partner for affection or beg for an occasional compliment or even an acknowledgement of appreciation).  But I knew I could at least empower myself to change my own shape—to alter the contours of my figure.   

 

Without putting it into words, I was operating under the mantra: If you can’t change your life, you can at least change your waistline.  And so I did.

 

Pathetic priorities, I suppose, but hindsight is often closer to 20/20 than what we can see in the present. 

 

The most amazing thing, I think, that happened as I shared my story was receiving feedback from others who could relate in their own ways.  As personal as my story has been (obviously), I knew I wasn’t in this alone.  I knew I had support, and simply telling my truth was supporting others, who shared their first steps toward personal empowerment.

 

In my last column, I questioned whether there was such a thing as a gay community any longer and argued that there is a far more likelihood of a leather community.  Certainly there is a more defined leather culture than overarching gay culture. 

 

And for some time now, as I felt myself getting stronger and having a healthier sense of self, I could recognize others reaching out to comfort and offer support, even when I wasn’t strong enough to accept it.  I thank them all, deeply and sincerely.

 

In doing my public outreach and sharing my insights and weaknesses, successes and failures, and offering a few hot demos in the process, I discovered time and again that I have the ability to entertain, to educate, to arouse and perhaps even to inspire.  I’m getting much more comfortable with the spotlight.

 

I’ve been told in the past that I was oblivious to people flirting with me.  I’m probably still a little daft when it comes to that, but I think I’m getting better.  At least I’m more open to the possibility, even if I’m not altogether comfortable (or competent) with “cruising.”   

 

I’ve gone from feeling isolated (along with my loving boy, eryc) to feeling connected; from feeling vulnerable and unworthy to feeling like a leader.  There has been a symbiotic healing, a collective sense of values and ideals and support that I never imagined that I would feel a part of.  And isn’t this the very essence of community?

 

Occasionally I still hear from my IML classmates.  Our time together on the title circuit allowed us to bond like victims of natural disaster, or at least a fraternity hazing.  One leather brother recently asked me about how my new house was coming along and how I was doing maintaining my body.  What a marvel to admit that my butt is a size or two bigger than it was this time last year, but that I’m not freaking out about it!

 

Last weekend at camp I actually went out drinking shirtless (harness only) and attended a party in a wrestling singlet.  True, I still had a little anxiety about it, but these are things I never would have done before (at least, not without a Xanax or bottles of vodka!).

 

I also ran into a fellow IML classmate at camp, someone who I’d once considered a friend but who I felt alienated by during the title circuit, and he made a comment about how he was no longer in shape to do circuit parties, a year after IML.  I was blown away.  In truth, he looked so much better to me now than he had then.  He looks healthier, sexier, and happier.  And when I told him so, it was his turn to be blown away.

 

His disbelief in his handsome good looks made me want to weep for year of brotherhood lost (mostly because this was a man who seemed to have it all, and I just couldn’t get past my own garbage for a year to not resent his good fortunes).  And now it just felt so good to speak again, to pay a truthful compliment, to wish him well and (most importantly) to mean it.

 

He’s a good man; any resentments that I’d felt melted away seeing his insecurities exposed.  I used to think of him as having it all—and I certainly hope having it all includes my friendship, as we continue to move forward.

 

A year has past, and lots of things have changed besides me.  

 

The local leather club, Philadelphians MC, will be having their pre-pride social at a new venue on Saturday, June 13. The new location,

200 S. 12th Street

(this is the same club that hosts the popular WOOF! Sundays), is where a new weekly leather party will be kicking off on Saturday nights.  The “Get Laid” parties will be hosted by Philadelphian member Steve “boy shark” Mercer, and replaces the Get Out and Get Laid parties that he hosted at the Bike Stop along with 2008 Mid-Atlantic Leather SIR Andy Liu. 

 

I don’t know the details behind these changes, but it really doesn’t matter.  The local leather scene is changing.  It’s growing in some ways, morphing in others.  I suspect it’s for the best, and also that it’s inevitable. 

 

Will leather folk going to another venue have an impact on the Bike Stop Bar?  Maybe. 

 

I argued in an earlier column that leather folk have a responsibility to patronize and support leather-friendly businesses, and not simply to expect them to make donations and offer handouts without supplying their business with funds to do so.  I stand by that.

 

Sometimes, however, businesses need to show their respect and gratitude for their patrons.  A good business knows its market, understands what its customers want, and offers it to them at a valuable price.  Perhaps a little competition for our community’s dollars will stimulate both the new venue as well as our long-established leather bar, which has been home to our community for so long and which, hopefully, will continue to offer home to leather men and women and bears (oh my).

 

Time will sort these things out.  All I know is that on Saturday, June 13, I’ll be with my brothers at their new party location.  And if the Bike Stop follows their tradition for the parade, I’ll be up on that raised platform truck, listening to their rock tunes, waving to the appreciative crowd, drinking cheap (but free) liquor, and celebrating more pride than ever. 

I was recently asked by a human sexuality student to provide a kind of assessment on current health and state of the local leather/kink community (in general) and how I felt I was doing (personally) integrating being a leather man within the gay community at large.

 

The first part was easy.

 

I felt pretty comfortable talking at a high level about the current state of the leather (predominantly gay male) and D/s or kink (pansexual) communities in Philadelphia.  Although our collective ranks were arguably larger and more organized in the past (unless nostalgic tales of Philly’s seedy history are also tall tales), I certainly see our future in very positive terms.

 

As I’ve noted before, I’ve been heartened to see numbers of groups and clubs in the area growing, and attendance at local events growing, even within just the past couple of years… to say nothing of increased cooperation among clubs over the past few years.   The dark days when clubs or organizations fought for territory and market share seem to be in the past.

 

Back during my title year, I noted that my kinky carnival fundraiser for The Attic Youth would not have happened—certainly not as successfully as it was—had I not received tremendous support from our pansexual allies.  And that spirit of cooperation continues to grow.

 

In late March, an inaugural “town hall” meeting was organized, inviting leather and kink community leaders to work together to correct the tarnished image that Philadelphia has earned (rightfully or otherwise) for bickering and backstabbing.  

 

It’s worth noting that the proposed series of town hall meetings was inspired by the ongoing leather town hall meetings that have been taking place in the New York City area for years (which, in full disclosure, haven’t been without their own controversies).  It’s also worth noting that the initial Philadelphia town hall meeting was organized by local pan community leaders who proactively made a point of saying that they wanted to be more supportive of the gay and lesbian leather community.

 

In short, this town hall was being formed to recognize and celebrate our diversity, and to find ways of strengthening and building our communities with our collective talents and backgrounds and interests.  I thought it was a great idea, and certainly a welcome one.

 

In the invitation that went out for the town hall meeting (which I unfortunately had to miss, as it was held the weekend prior to my move and therefore my time was spent packing up the house and preparing to close on my new home), the organizers rightfully noted, “Different groups meet different needs. No one group is better than any other and if one split off from another, it was to expand on another unique aspect of the lifestyle.” 

 

Participants were asked, politely, to check their emotional baggage and checkered histories at the door.  And from all accounts that I’ve heard, they did.

Mark Twain famously said that reports of his death were greatly exaggerated after hearing that his obituary had been published in the New York Journal.  Similarly, our local community is alive and well, and getting healthier all the time.  Reports of our infighting are also greatly exaggerated.

 

Of course, there will always be gossip spread by trouble-stirrers inclined to share stories of discontent and community sabotage, promoting a notion of the Philadelphia kink community as fractured and divisive while simultaneously promoting themselves as leaders above the fray.   

 

But the folks who are in the trenches here, organizing workshops and play shops, munches and bar nights, know the truth, and we’re all the better for their efforts (whether we attend their events or not). 

 

Real strength and leadership sometimes means not allowing oneself to get bogged down in other people’s bull; sometimes it means ignoring bad behavior, because to acknowledge and respond to outrageous claims simply feeds the egos and needs of those who do us the most harm.  We’ve come a long way, baby.

 

All of which then brought me to the second part of the question—how I perceived my place at the table of the gay community at large.  And I stumbled with my answer.

 

For nearly a decade I worked in the gay press.  For years I was a writer, then editor and eventually (at age 22, although I have a hard time believing that I was ever so young) publisher of the defunct Au Courant Newsmagazine.  During that time I also freelanced for many local and regional publications, and even for some national magazines like The Advocate and Instinct. 

 

As just about anyone who has worked in the gay press will tell you, the hours (and the pay) are horrendous.  There were certainly some perks (free tickets to shows, opportunities to meet celebrities, etc.), but they are often outweighed by politics. 

 

To put it bluntly, it was challenging sometimes to tell who was our greatest enemy—the religious and conservative right or ourselves.  Gay non-profits, businesses and clubs battled for supremacy, visibility and dollars.  And it got ugly fast.

 

So when I was eventually laid off by the paper, I had had my fill of the gay community.  I was disillusioned by the juxtaposition of inspiring messages of hope and solidarity at marches and rallies, while watching a success stream of backstabbing.  The disco anthem of “We are Family” was our soundtrack, but we lived Sordid Lives of a dysfunctional extended family.  Believe me, it was a relief to flee Queer Nation and to no longer ACT UP.   

 

Truth be told, I only started going back to pride parades when I found a community among the leather folk and started joining the folks on the Bike Stop float for the trip through the gayborhood down to the festival at Penn’s Landing festival (while enjoying a potent brew of cheap vodka flavored with Gatorade mix).  Apparently nothing spells pride (or gets my butt dancing) like that messy combination of sun, electrolytes and grain alcohol.

 

At this point, I don’t really know if I feel like a part of the gay community, and to some extent, that saddens me.  It saddens me more that I’m not sure that I even believe in a gay community—just a collection of individual sexual minorities. 

 

Looking at the program of parties, seminars, presentations, etc., at Equality Forum 2009, which started late April and runs through the first weekend of May, you will be hard pressed to find anything kinky (once again).  How well are they representing my needs and values as a leatherman?

 

And does the omission of overtly sex positive programming (excepting for safe-sex programs) reflect the tastes of Equality Forum organizers or the general gay community at large?  Once upon a time, I blamed Equality Forum organizers for exclusion (and certainly they could be more open)… but it’s possible they also reflect a larger truth about the gay community.

 

Ever since AIDS, we in the gay community appear to be sex negative in our politics (but not our media, since sex still sells).   I was one of millions who marched by conservative churches, pointing fingers and crying “Shame!” about their policies towards gays and people living with HIV/AIDS, yet we seem to have adopted that shame anyway.   While publicly discounting claims that we were dying for our sins, oh so many years ago, I think many of us accepted blame on some level—after all, illness was being passed through sexual contact.  It was hard to view that as liberating.

 

Consequently the gay movement has grown increasingly more conservative, failing to acknowledge that we are sexual creatures unless there were opportunities to promote safe(r) sex.   To grow public support for our causes, we neutered ourselves.  We became as a class of people something akin to the asexual best friends and witty sidekicks that were presented in the mainstream media. 

 

We shifted from promoting sexual liberation in the 1970s and early ‘80s to promoting safe sex in the ‘80s and ‘90s (and in the leather/kink world, “safe sane and consensual”)… but these days, we’re mostly focused on same-sex marriages.    

 

If we define community as a group of people with a shared set of common values, I’m not sure that same-sex marriage is an issue that will ever bind us together and build our communities as the HIV/AIDS pandemic once did (although it’s certainly good public relations for building heterosexual allies, and therefore probably a good strategic move).

 

In fact, if it weren’t for growing support with our non-queer allies, same-sex marriage would seem like a bad investment of energy, time and money.  After all, it’s based on a relationship model that fails 52% of heterosexual relationships!

 

Don’t get me wrong—I’m not anti-marriage, and I don’t think the majority of the leather and kink community is either.  I know several leather folk who have married, and now that I’m living in New Jersey, I’m expecting to have a civil union with my partner (my boy, eryc). There’s talk that New Jersey may soon join the ranks of states that will recognize same-sex marriages, and undoubtedly we’ll take advantage of that if it happens.

 

But is there a place at the table for a sexually-identified subset of a larger community, when that larger community is largely asexual?  Can leather men and women have a place in their community, but not in their politics? 

 

Or will we just continue to be used as graphic visuals (like drag queens) to depict the gay community, while never being fully embraced by the community at large (again, like drag queens)?

 

In short, what would it take to bring us all together?   It actually seems like the leather and kink communities have a better chance of achieving true community than gay leather folk do within the larger gay community.

 

In the past when I’ve written about community challenges like event planning, I’ve shared some ideas and techniques that I’ve used in my professional life, based on workflow, organizational understanding, and team building that I’ve acquired over time through training, education and hands-on project management.

 

So if we can equate building community with how we build functional project teams (and to some extent, I believe we can), there are arguably five stages that we can expect to go through: forming, storming, norming, performing and transforming.

 

In the forming stage, we’re strangers.  We may be excited to come together, but there’s ambiguity about our relationships to one another and our respective roles (and the roles others are to assume).  With all this uncertainty going on, we tend to be polite and friendly while we try to determine where we fit in and what’s in it for us to be involved.  You know you’re in this stage when everyone is smiling and wants to be friends… wink wink.

 

In the storming stage, we start to get to know one another—personalities and egos become more known, as do individual agendas.  Insecurities (and voices) are often raised during this stage—often making it unpleasant in the short-term, but also providing us with valuable information that we can use to build genuine alliances because real communication begins to take place.

 

In the norming stage, a project team leader defines how the team is to function, assigning roles and responsibilities to team members.  By clearly defining the vision and project goal, team members not only see “the big picture” but how they fit as a piece of the larger puzzle and how they are dependent upon one another.  In a leather or kink community that’s loaded with alpha-types, perhaps our greatest challenge is accepting our dependence on others and that we are, in fact, just a small component of something that is far greater than us.  We have to let go of our egos a bit. 

 

In the performing stage, a group of people transforms themselves from a collection of independent individuals (perhaps strangers, perhaps not) with their own respective agendas to a functional team working toward a common purpose or goal, supporting one another as needed as it ultimately serves their own common needs.   Until now, local community groups have each had their own leaders and agendas; the challenge here would be to find an overarching individual or a team of leaders that we can trust to lead us to our common vision.  In that regard, the proposed series of town hall meetings may very well lead us to a stronger, truer kink community in Philadelphia area than ever before… I don’t believe the gay community at large (in Philly or beyond) is seriously pursuing such community building.

 

In the transforming stage, the final stage of a project team, the goals of the team have been met.  When this common challenge has been achieved, the team is brought together to celebrate their success and to document lessons learned.  By this point, individual members have come to trust and appreciate one another; friendships have been built; respect and affection have been earned and reciprocated.  Where once there was mistrust or misgivings, there is now perhaps a sense of loss as the team members come to understand that it’s time to part ways.

 

Can this stage be relevant to communities?

 

I remember when I was a student at Rutgers University attending a gay intercollegiate summit at the College of William and Mary, where OutWeek Magazine founder Gabriel Rotello (a hero of mine at the time) spoke about the gay civil rights movement being one of those movements whose very nature was to destroy itself.  His premise: if you come together as a community to achieve a common purpose (say, achieving equal rights for all persons, regardless of sexual orientation), and that goal is achieved, then ultimately there is no reason to continue to come together as a class of people.

 

His speech came at a time for me when, for the first time, I was finally reaching out to peers and finding a sense of community.  I was floored and devastated by what Rotello had to say because it seemed to make complete sense and because it suggested to me that the great bonds that I thought I was forging were, perhaps, illusory.   And in hindsight, of course they were… even in the absence of meeting our common goals and vision.

 

But it was the first time I remember questioning whether there is such a thing as a gay community or whether there was only a gay movement.  Do sexual minorities share enough common values to consider ourselves community and to keep us coming together if the system of oppression that currently makes us second class citizens is corrected?

 

The same could be asked for leather/kink, and the sexual liberation and freedom of expression that they seek.  Arguably, there is more in common among the leather/kink crowd than sexual minorities to keep us coming together, even if sexual freedoms were achieved… if nothing else, we still have common interests in play parties, unusual hookups and fetish fashions.

 

At any rate, around the same time that I heard Rotello speak, I was also a great fan of the writer and lecturer, M. Scott Peck, whose book The Road Less Travelled provided me (and many others) with an initial blue print for self-actualization and happiness.   Peck was a devout Christian, and his religion very much influenced his writings, but books nonetheless offered great insight to me for personal growth and connection to others.

 

In The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace he wrote: "There can be no vulnerability without risk; there can be no community without vulnerability; there can be no peace, and ultimately no life, without community."   

 

Under his definition of community, members accept each other, celebrating each others’ uniqueness while finding commonalities, and making decisions for the common good based on consensus.  Individual differences are appreciated for providing broader perspectives to discussion and debates, and because individual differences are appreciated, an environment is created where members are encouraged to be reflective about themselves and the world around them and how they interact.  Members of such a community are safe to be themselves, to express themselves honestly, and are therefore more open to embracing others with equal respect and compassion.

 

Peck’s book identified a four-stage process of community building that in many ways echoed organizational theory for team building.  His “pseudocommunity” corresponds to the forming stage—where politeness and suspicions prevent us from genuine communication and real agreement.  His “chaos” corresponds with the storming stage, where genuine communication, even unpleasant exchanges, can ultimately lead to true understanding. His “emptiness” corresponds to norming stage, where individuals divorce themselves from their egos and agendas that prevent them from otherwise becoming a part of a community.  (Unlike in organizational theory where this is facilitated by a project or team leader who lays out rules and guidelines for the team to follow, Peck’s theory holds that for this to occur in the forming a community, individuals in this stage must voluntarily open their minds and hearts and allow themselves to resist the individual impulses that serve our own distinct needs.  In the absence of strong leadership in our respective communities, and impeded by strong ego and individual needs that are both real and valid, this is undoubtedly the hardest hurdle for us to clear.)  Finally, Peck’s “true community” has a parallel in the performing stage, where individuals work together with empathy toward one another, where there is a level of understanding, trust and respect for each member.

 

Sounding perhaps more Utopian than practical, Peck’s community is functional not because there is a single leader (as in organizational theory), but because community members in their ability to openly communicate and respectfully debate and disagree can lead to decisions and actions as a group. 

 

Can that really work?  Hopefully our leather town hall meetings will provide some answers in the future.

 

In looking back at my not-so-distant past, when I was circumnavigating a triad relationship, I realize now that I very much followed Peck’s example in building community.  In defining rules for how to make our relationship work, we put the family before individual egos and needs, putting the triad relationship before individual relationships within the family.  The spirit of the family was most important—love, affection, respect—and that drove us forward successfully for many years.  But not forever. 

 

Although the relationship didn’t work out, I don’t blame the framework.  After all, there’s a big difference between a community and an intimate relationship.  Unless you’re a total slut.   At any rate, I still believe in triads, and I still try to believe in community.

 

So what can I conclude about the state of our gay community and where we as a leather community fit in?  I suppose I could identify in which stage I believe we are falling in organizational theory or Peck’s community building framework… I certainly don’t think we’ve achieved what we want to, but I do believe we’re probably on a good course.

 

But instead of asking ourselves how we’re doing, perhaps it’s more important to ask ourselves where do we want to be, what is our vision for the future, and what are we prepared to do to get there? 

In the past few months, I’ve heard the word “balance” thrown into many conversations. 

Most often, it’s friends and colleagues speaking about their desire to find balance at work, juggling multiple responsibilities and sometimes multiple jobs.  Sometimes it’s about finding the right balance between personal life and professional life. 

Life, for many of us, and for many different reasons, seems to be swirling out of control.

In leather circles where the foundation of leather relationships and play is power exchange, when we speak about finding balance we often mean finding a balance of power in our lives.   (That might mean balance with our partners, our friends and acquaintances, or even within our selves.)

It’s a common perception that a good proportion of submissives in the kink and leather scenes are typically men with high powered, high paying, high responsibility careers.   They may be doctors, lawyers, investors or financial advisors—men who earn their living saving lives and livelihoods.  Consequently in their down time, they often want to relinquish responsibility.  For these submissives, subjugating their will to others liberates them from their day-to-day roles and burdens.  But it’s even more than that, I think.

For a dominant/alpha in the “real world” setting, submission in your personal life does more than simply free you from the consequences of your actions (assuming you only do as you are told as a submissive).  It also allows you an opportunity to explore other interests and desires; it allows you to pursue profoundly personal wants and needs that might directly contradict your everyday wants and needs.   

Conversely, in the fetish and kink world, we often associate power with “lower” social hierarchy archetypes—the “thug,” the blue collar mechanic, or a jock (no matter that any of those types may or may not be earning substantially more than the white collar worker).   In a society where beauty is translated into a commodity, the porn star or bodybuilder may have more power and ranking than a millionaire, and a skinny twink with traditional good looks might dominate a muscleman (if you don’t think that’s a common fantasy—check out the latest Diesel ad in “Out” magazine for a hot sneaker licking scene).

The bottom line is simple: we seek to feel whole.   Those of us who generally do not feel powerful in our daily lives seek it where we can; those who feel the weight of responsibility most of the time seek release from it when we can.

And this is why it’s so important for us to remain in touch with ourselves as people, and not be constrained by the roles we identify with.   You cannot have balance if you define yourself by a generic stereotype, no matter how exciting that stereotype is, and no matter how good of a fit it seems to be at first glance.

Constant self-evalation—not self questioning—keeps us open to our erotic potential and possibilities.

The internet has been particularly helpful to many, in that regard.  Many of us experienced our first exposure to kink play online, where cyber kinksters can share fantasies of power exchange that get their juices flowing before they’re prepared to actually go through the real deal in person.  I know I had my fair share of that play.

And, of course, for some, fantasy is all there is to pursue—trapped by life responsibilities or roles or emotional baggage, some people are prevented from actualizing their dreams.  I occasionally wonder if I fall into that category… but more on that later.

To me, it seems healthier to live and share the fantasy, whether in the real world or in cyberspace, than to deny it at all.  Recognizing our desires is healthy and healing, regardless of whether we act on it.  Knowing ourselves and sharing ourselves with others, this is what makes us feel fully developed and connected to others around us.

The beauty of finding balance in power is that it allows us to grow, to evolve, to change—or to just change our minds.  Finding balance means recognizing that we are not necessarily the same person this very moment than we were a day ago, a year ago, a decade ago...  or even an hour ago.   

We need not be enslaved by our past.  What we wished for once upon a time may not necessarily be desirable now.  To quote a very wise television commercial from my childhood: Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t.

Human beings are complex creatures, even if they play the part of a pony named Sparkles.   Perhaps especially when they are a pony named Sparkles.

Although I know it’s dangerous to speak in generalizations, as sexually-identified people who are acutely aware of what makes our dicks hard and our pussies wet, leather folk seem particularly more self-aware of our complexities than many of our vanilla counterparts. 

Although we recognize the obvious contradictions in our interests, we can nonetheless consider ourselves rational, mature adults while acknowledging enjoyment from sucking on a pacifier and wearing a diaper.   We can appreciate our own disinterest in sports, but fascination with sports figures or simply sports gear.

By looking at ourselves as full human beings, with varied and sometimes conflicting interests, we are better prepared to define and navigate a serpentine life path that allows us to explore our rich potential.   We are less likely to find ourselves emotionally paralyzed when finding ourselves at a fork in the road, because life is not either/or decision for us. 

Computer code may be binary, but our lives must not be. 

And it’s worth noting that balance does not necessarily mean equal parts.   It simply means recognizing the many facets of ourselves and giving ourselves the permission and freedom to recognize and celebrate them.

There are many leather men, for example, who identify as tops but who have at least one Master or Sir.  Are they delusional in their identification?  Trying to pass themselves off as something they are not?  I don’t think so. 

To me, these are men who recognize that their primary erotic drivers are control and taking power.  That there are other aspects to their lives and fantasies doesn’t make them any less of a top than believing in birth control or the fallibility of a pope makes a person less Catholic.

From my vantage point, a man doesn’t lose strength or power when he submits to another man.   Power is like energy, and I’m often reminded of a law of science that states that energy is neither created nor destroyed; it merely transforms itself into different forms.

When a leather top bottoms, it doesn’t make him any less powerful or strong as a man.  It strikes me that it takes a great deal of strength and courage to take command and responsibility of a scene or another person, and it also takes a great deal of strength and courage to relinquish control and trust another human being with your physical safety, your emotional well being, and your sexual satisfaction (not necessarily in that order).  In bottoming, a top doesn’t lose his power; instead, he transforms himself into another kind of partner, and perhaps even a better lover in the process.

I have often remarked – and with great sincerity—that I love the concept of versatility and this is as true for sex as it is for power.   I’m a big advocate for versatility even if I don’t subscribe to that particular skill set.  At least not right now.

I sometimes wonder whether my not getting fucked is because I still have too much emotional baggage to (literally) let someone in, or whether physically I’m just one of those guys who doesn’t like it up the ass because it does feel good to them.  It’s a fine line, sometimes, in differentiating the physical with the emotional, especially when they are tied together.

And while I’m completely happy in the top role, it would be disingenuous to suggest that I’m not curious and a bit disappointed that I don’t quite “get” the thrill that so many men experience by getting fucked or by bottoming in power exchange… although the idea of relinquishing control sometimes feels like it would be a vacation, because I generally take the reigns on just about anything that I do, I just don’t feel comfortable with letting go.

It’s not my priority to do so right now, but I’m open to that possibility in the future.

By being open to that possibility, does it make me less of a dom top now?  I don’t think so.

Although there’s no kink industry standard to define what it means to be a true Dom or a true sub, it seems to me that if you spend 90 percent of your time fucking guys or taking control of them, or even 75 percent of your time in that role, you’re a real top.   

Unless you’re living in some weird social experiment that defines your role for you, it stands to reason that you are doing the things you do because it suits your most prioritized needs (and therefore can be considered your primary role).

There’s a certain amount of misogyny and homophobia, I think, when we talk in such glowing and reverential terms of “total tops” as if they have achieved a pinnacle of masculine distinction.    (Consequently many leather tops will only bottom to these “total tops,” reinforcing that artificial social hierarchy.)

For some of us, being a total top might simply be based on what feels good to us physically (which certainly doesn’t make us superior).  For others, being a total top may be based on fear—that is, we need to control everything because we don’t have the strength to trust others.  That doesn’t make us superior… and it doesn’t make us inferior… it just makes us human.

Ironically despite the social construct that often places a premium on men who don’t take dick up their butt and who don’t take orders from anyone, it’s also widely argued that tops that occasionally bottom actually make the best tops.  That is to say, by intimately exploring the role of the bottom on occasion, a leather top is better prepared to understand the logistics of certain play and better positioned to empathize with his partners.

I think this debate boils down to what is ideologically most exciting to a person—unbalanced power in its rawest form, conquered and relinquished, or a real-life sense of balance, where we recognize the joys and benefits of being fully realized human beings.

It seems to me the former is definitely better for a play scene, the latter a healthier outlook for a lifestyle.

Despite some heavy emotional stuff taking place in recent months, I’ve found myself smiling and laughing a lot more lately.  I’ve packed on some extra weight from less healthy eating while staging the house for potential buyers and trying to leave the kitchen clean, but I’m not sweating the results (I’ve lost the weight before, and I can lose it again). 

I realize now that in delaying the inevitable demise of my relationship, trying to let fate prove to me that I was making the right decision to end it, or delaying a decision long enough to force someone else to be miserable enough to end it for me; I was putting myself in a position of powerlessness.  I made myself a victim in a situation that I had some control over.

As a result of my own inaction, I felt helpless, weak, and uncertain of myself.  Certainly not powerful, certainly not a dom top, and certainly not sexy.

In definitively choosing to end the triad relationship that was making us all so unhappy, I was able to once again find my strength.  I was able to feel good about taking the lead in putting things right, in making a better future for all three of us, even if all three of us wouldn’t be together.

I felt like someone in a 12-step group, learning to accept that I didn’t have power over absolutely everything, and that I couldn’t take on that responsibility and blame.  I had to accept that there were things that I couldn’t control or fix… and what liberation that was!  And freedom from that guilt and blame allowed me to once again focus my time and attention on what I could control.

Not surprisingly as my boy and I hunted for a new house, we once again imagined the possibilities of a new-and-improved and expanded playroom, and I began to feel sexy again.

Of course I still occasionally look back at what’s happened with regret and sadness.  It is sad when a relationship ends, and a 16-year relationship is worth grieving over.  It is a loss.

And at the office, we’ve had layoffs and reorganizations, additional responsibilities and changes in management.  I’ve had to say goodbye to a number of friends at work.  More loss, more changes taking place far outside of my realm of my control.

And yet I’m smiling these days, accepting that which I cannot change and cannot control.

In truth, it’s a tremendous comfort not to feel like I need to, or even need to try, to control everything, to fix everything, to be the constant rock. 

There’s emotional release in just being in the moment.  There’s a strange comfort in experiencing both loss and hope, sadness and joy, and embracing it for all that it is. 

In early April I’ll be moving into my new home.  My boy is ready to greet me in our new Leave-It-To-Beaver suburban home, complete with big fenced yard for our bulldog.  He’ll be greeting me by removing my shoes and fetching me a drink, and sitting on the floor at my side while I unwind.

Call me old fashioned, but South Jersey sounds like paradise.

Surrounded by soccer moms and manicured lawns I’m now planning a play space complete with a medical office, including a medical exam table and toys; a gym locker room, complete with steam unit, actual gym lockers and benches; and even a dungeon area where I don’t have to store half of my toys in hidden places because there’s not enough room for them all!

Balance is restored. 

After having spent over a decade as a prominent personal trainer in San Francisco's gayest gyms, and serving as a fitness columnist for San Diego’s Rocket magazine, last year Erick Alvarez released his first full length book, “Muscles Boys: Gay Gym Culture” (Haworth Press, $19.95).

In this international bestseller for gay nonfiction, Erick looks at the gym as more than a place for health and fitness, but as a social institution.  He looks at the history of the male athletic ideal, exploring 2,500 years of gay influence and the evolution of modern bodybuilding, male body image, and muscle media— and how the influence of gay culture has helped create the ideal image of man, straight or gay.

In our interview, we speak about:

 

What gay gym culture is and why it’s important to discuss

The role masculinity plays in the gay gym culture

How surveys of members of bigmuscle.com and bigmusclebear.com helped identify categories of men who fall into gay gym culture, and what unique needs and motivations drive them there

The myth of the dumb jock 

The ancient Greek ideal and how influences the gay gym culture today

How the gay gym has in some ways taken the place of the gay bars and happy hours of the 1970s and 1980s

Different ideals of masculine strength-- the strongman versus the classically beautiful man 

How Charles Atlas in his marketing appeal successfully played into stereotypes of gay men as weaklings to promote himself (and gay panic)

Early muscle media as gay soft porn (launching careers of models and artists alike, including leather icon Tom of Finland) 

Internet sites as the next wave of muscle media

Gay men's attraction and ambivalence towards locker rooms 

The biggest surprises in putting the book together

The future of the gay gym and gay body image

 

For more information about Erick Alvarez and his book, check out:

http://www.gaygymculture.com/

 

 

Just a little ad that I created to promote my electro play workshop at Passional Toys, 620 S. 5th Street, Philadelphia, on 3/20/09 from 7-9pm.

For more information, drop me a line or call Passional at 1-877-U-CORSET or to order tickets, check out www.fantasyworkshops.com.

Hope to see you there!

S

 

Twice last month I spoke at a local university, presenting a beginner’s guide to BDSM and the leather community and offering live demonstrations of the violet wand and fire play.   So while I may not get out to the bars nearly enough and am a lousy poster child for the Bike Stop Bar, the sponsor of my Mr. Philadelphia Leather title, I’m still making an effort at public outreach when it comes to raising awareness of leather community issues and education efforts around kink play. 

(Incidentally, due to business travel commitments, my hands-on workshop on electro stimulation toys at Passional Boutique also needed to be moved this month, from the original March 6 date to March 20… and it’s not too late to sign up!)

Although I suspect there would have been students in each college class who would have been willing subjects for the demonstrations, I brought “demo bottoms” to play it safe (my thanks to Eddie, Ed and Phil for their support and contributions, as well as thanks to my boy eryc for his input, assistance, love and constant support). 

I recorded the classes on video, which I figured would make a nice souvenir if desired for my volunteers, and maybe even make a good video podcast for a later date (to subscribe to my podcast on iTunes, just visit the iTunes store and search for “Scott Daddy” or “Leather Bound” and click the subscribe button).

After burning a DVD of the first presentation, and just to confirm that the video and audio were working as expected, I watched a minute or two of my opening remarks.  It was an interesting reality check.

In the past, when I found myself going back and forth on diets, I knew that I could not trust my perception of what I saw in the mirror.  When I looked at myself in the mirror, somehow what I saw was an image conjured in my mind more than what was physically in front of me. 

Snapshots, on the other hand, helped me to see myself as I truly was (or, at least, closer to how I really looked).  Luckily photographs were often far more kind than my own body image.

Needless to say, I’ve seen many photographs taken of me since winning my title back in late 2007, and I realize now that I’ve come to use these images to form a new (but still distorted) self concept: not thin, but certainly thinner than I used to be; confident, but not arrogant; masculine, maybe even a bit butch, although certainly short of the hyper-masculine look that some guys have that makes my jaw drop and salivary glands go into overdrive.  

In short, my self-concept changed from being an overweight, middle-aged Jew with excessive emotional baggage to someone who is quite average in appearance and temperament, reasonably well adjusted, and ordinary in most ways excepting sexual appetites.

And, I admit, as I continue to grow more comfortable in my skin and feel less of an outsider, there is a certain pleasure I take in being average and ordinary.

It hadn’t occurred to me until watching the video that since most people I know are straight, my concept of average is “straight acting/ appearing.”   Of course, for straights, it’s not “acting/appearing,” it simply is.

In fact, usually I cringe at that phrase, because it seems to me inherently hetero- and homophobic, based on stereotypes of how straights act and stereotypes about how gay people act in contrast to others.

So it was a bit surprising to watch my body language on the video and think, “hey, I’m pretty gay acting!”  Apparently there’s more gayness to me than my love of musical theater and sexual orientation.

A key element of my leather identity is a celebration of masculinity.  It’s important to me to look and feel masculine.  It is part of my core identity.

So you can imagine it was a small shock to watch myself give a presentation about leather while displacing weight on a hip, which can look rather womanly, or having my hand fall at an unflattering angle from my arm in a traditional “limp wrist” gesture.  As I watched myself engage in dialogue with the class, I was also reminded that my voice is nowhere as deep as I’d like it.

This epiphany wasn’t so much upsetting as it was revelatory.  There was no trauma, just heightened awareness.   After spending years crafting an image for online profiles and community service, I began to believe my own marketing. 

I successfully bought my own brand identity as a leather Daddy, or whatever that meant in my head.   What I observed on video, however, made me smirk and think to myself, “OMG, I’m sooooo gay.”  No wonder I didn’t intimidate anyone!

At least I didn’t call any of the students “Mary.”  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

In truth, watching the video, even for a few moments, I actually had a newfound appreciation for myself.  There was direct eye contact, honest communication, challenging thoughts exchanged, and lots of humor.   This would have been completely inconceivable for me just a few short years ago.  Talk about personal growth!

As I watched, I noted that the traits that I viewed as “gay acting”—whether the tone of voice, physical posturing, etc.—were honest representations of who I am.  I genuinely put myself out there.

I’ve often said—and still believe it’s true—that when we find ourselves in role play, that we’re tapping into a facet of ourselves that we want to explore.  It’s not necessarily false, but it’s also not necessarily true to our full character.

Sometimes when we’re in a play scene, particularly gay men into power exchange, our voices deepen, our backs straighten and our chests balloon outward.  We make ourselves as close to the fantasy men as we can be… the drill sergeant, the Master, the coach, etc.  Commanding figures of authority that ease the submissive psyche into relinquishing control. 

In a classroom setting, however, you’re not trying to intimidate or control… you’re trying to connect and to educate.  At least that’s my take on it.

When I’m in front of a class, I am not “butching it up” for an audience.  I am being true to myself.  I speak freely and honestly about what it means to me to be a dominant partner, a Daddy.  I speak about what gives me a charge when I’m interacting with subs.  And I am not above admitting the truth we all know but rarely speak—as much as doms like to be in control, it’s the submissives that set the scene constraints and limits.

Perhaps my biggest surprise in watching the video was that despite some of the less-than-butch displays, I found myself thinking, “Hey, I’m kind of hot.”  I was pleased that I carried myself well with an understanding of my power and my limitations.  I was delighted that I wasn’t putting on an act at all.  “Wow,” I thought to myself, “I really am a kinky teddy bear!  Isn’t that nice?”

And, heck, isn’t confidence one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs ever?

As I started to revel in the positive feelings about myself, a rarity in recent months, I recalled a phrase that I used to say quite a bit: I think I’m a nice person, but I’m not sure if I qualify as a good person.

And I found myself flashing back to community services I’ve provided over the past 20 years, from founding gay student groups, running a gay newspaper that gave voice to the disenfranchised, fighting to have my marriage announcement in the local daily paper, volunteering for a crisis hotline, volunteering as an AIDS buddy, participating or organizing fundraisers, engaging in public outreach and education.  

As my thoughts strayed from past works to the present moment, I realized that I was smiling while tears were rolling down my face.  Amazing grace, how sweet the sound! 

I’ve been wrong about myself.  For years I’ve been in denial.  Indeed, I am a good person (who just happens to enjoy naughty things).  I am a masculine person (who is not afraid to be gay acting).  I am an attractive person (whose body does not need to be perfect to be attractive).  I am a smart person (who is not afraid to feel or question or to not have all the answers).

Although I hope my personal journey of finding my self, finding comfort in my deeds and actions and body, continues to evolve, it feels like I’ve reached a milestone.

I once was lost, but now I’m found.

In a sense, I feel like I’ve come full circle.

When I first came out into leather, the gear helped me to hide behind a persona.  My interactions with subs began to help me identify my strengths and, sometimes, my weaknesses.  The more I interacted with others, the more I came to understand myself.

For years I struggled with the little strains of sadism that may run through my blood, questioning how a nice Jewish boy could inflict pain on others bound to a St. Andrews and still consider himself nice (or a Jew)!  I struggled with body image and weight—asking how I could justify being Master to another man when I couldn’t master my own body?  I struggled with going to the gym because I didn’t feel like I could belong there as a chub or someone less than hyper-masculine (which was my distorted view of jocks).  I didn’t even feel like I could fit into the bear community because my triad relationship seemed to freak many of them out. 

Although I certainly had some fun along the way, the last few years were filled with so many questions, so many struggles, so many tears, and so many lessons to learn.  And today I find myself tear stained again, but proud and joyous and unapologetic for the man I’ve been and the man I’ve become.

Like Dorothy’s slippers, which always had the power to transport her back to her black-and-white Kansas home, I suspect the answers to bring me peace and comfort were also within me all the time. 

Although I had a mentor coming out in to the gay community, I didn’t really have one coming out into the leather community.   I don’t know, maybe that’s one of my motivations for teaching classes and public outreach.  Would it have made a difference if Scott Daddy had had a Daddy of his own?  Perhaps.  And perhaps not.

Lessons that we learn for ourselves (versus lessons taught to us) are perhaps the sweetest.  And perhaps like Dorothy, I just needed to learn them for myself.

Was bound, but now I’m free.

Now online is the first half of an interview I recently participated in with national sex advice columnist, sex doctor, body worker, adult film purveyor and all-around nice guy Dr. Richard Wagner (or Dr. Dick to his fans... not to be confused with Christine Baranski's ex on 'Cybil').

http://www.drdicksexadvice.com/2009/02/25/podcast-103/

This interview is a part of  a series called Sex Edge-U-Cation, a look at the world of fetish sex, kink and alternative sexual lifestyles in which Dr. Dick will be chatting with prominent educators, practitioners and advocates of unconventional sexual expressions and lifestyles from all over the world.

Topics in this interview include:

The meaning of Power Play.

Kink — behavior outside the social norm.  But what's the norm?

Cathartic and recreational aspects of BDSM.

Working definitions for: Negotiation, Safeword, Scene and Aftercare.

I hope you'll check it out and, as always, I welcome your feedback!

Regards,

S