I have been asked by my SCA friends why I don’t write about the SCA more often. 

I don’t, I know, and I really can’t put my finger on why I just don’t feel inspired to wax eloquent about the hobby that has occupied a huge chunk of my non-working hours for well over half my life.  I think it has just become a fact of my existence, like breathing or waking up in the morning.  And sometimes I think I take for granted the profound changes it has made in my life.  I think every object lesson I have had in self-discipline, sacrifice, and commonwealth has been learned while wearing  a medieval dress.   My experiences learning how to be an armored fighter in an overwhelmingly male-dominated world transformed a socially inept, non-athletic, asthmatic bookworm of a girl to a woman who routinely steps on the field with men twice her size without blinking and expects to outhink and outfight them.  Furthermore, my experiences in the byzantine world of non-profit volunteer administration were invaluable lessons in how to manage, motivate, and organize people.  

It is a culture that is hard to explain to outsiders, most of whom think we are either misfits or simply batshit crazy.  So, when I do talk about it, I focus on those things that can be understood, even without the veneer of the complex underpinnings of the Society (with a capital S).  Unfortunately, the SCA-related things that I do ruminate on are not things easily explained even within the SCA.  Ironically, they some of the most important lessons the SCA experience has to offer.

One of those things is the institution of the Peerage.  For the sake of simplification, when I refer to Peer from here onward, I am referring to the “bestowed” Peerages (a misnomer, because ALL Peerages are technically bestowed) as opposed to “Royal” Peerages.  The latter are derived from warming a very large piece of ornamental furniture with your behind for six months or less.  Don’t get me wrong, I EARNED all my Royal Peerages (I have three), but I didn’t have to.  The path to getting one is pretty clear.

It’s the pursuit of the former, the “Big Three” (being Chivalry for fighting, Laurel for the Arts and Pelican for service), that seems to cause the most consternation, confusion and bitterness in the SCA because the paths to achieving those are not as circumscribed.  And, because we divide them by “superpower”, so to speak, people often miss that fact that the skill is only the thing that defines what kind of Peer you are.  They do not, alone, make you a Peer.

You can want the Recognition.  And you can want a Peerage.  But the two should not be confused.

An award is recognition for what you did.

A Peerage is a statement of what you learned while you were doing what you did.  It is the person you have become. 

I have had some conversations in the past few days that pivot around this very concept that I am borrowing heavily from as I think about this. It is not easy to enunciate the intangible that I look for when I sit in the Peerage circle (in my case, the Pelican), and I weigh my future Peers.  But for those who have asked in these last few days, here is a glimpse of the internal conversation:

Are they joyful in their service?

The reward for a job well done, should be the satisfaction of a job well done.  The act of serving, fighting, creating must stand as the payoff in and of itself.  It should be something that is done with a joyful heart, that is shared abundantly and happily.  We all need “attaboys” every now and then, but if recognition becomes the overriding motivation, if the need for it dominates, and the withholding of it embitters, it becomes as situation antithetical to a Peerage.  Even if the person is granted the accolade, their hungry need for recognition continues, and they will find that their new role will not fill that need. 

I cannot read minds.  I can only derive motivations from actions.  Is a person abundant in their praise of others?  Enthusiasm is something that naturally spills over, we pull people in instead of shut them out.  Do they talk about their day in terms of what was accomplished as a whole, rather than their part in it?

Or, do they feel it necessary to reiterate their own role loudly and publicly? Do they feel a need to list their own accomplishments every time another person is praised?  Worse, are they backhanded in compliments or scathing in criticism? Do they act like they are engaged in some form of cosmic competition?

 (Psst – a secret.  They don’t run out of white belts, laurel wreaths, and Pelican medallions when it is your turn. We’ll make more.)

Do they own their mistakes?

There a saying that says “share your successes, but own your mistakes”.   There is as much wisdom (or even more) in pain and embarrassment as there is in elation.  A person worthy of a Peerage isn’t afraid to admit they screwed up.  In fact, they will generally follow it with “and this is how I will make amends, and this is what I will do to be sure it never, ever happens again.”  Take responsibility.  Take it immediately and completely and make no excuses even when there are excuses to be made.  Explain, when necessary, but do not equivocate.

Can they differentiate the candid from the merely crass?  Conciliation from conformation?

Some people use honesty as a guise to be rude and cruel.  A Peer is constructive in criticism.  He knows when to speak, and what is better left unspoken.  She tells the truth gently.  And knows when the truth is truth, and not self-deception.

Some people are so wrapped up in glorifying their “differentness” that they fail to realize that they have allowed others to dictate what they are and what they do simply by being contrary.  “I won’t do it because that’s what they want” is just as narrow a stance as doing something solely to conform.  They are no more “authentic” or “real” or “free” for the rejection.  They lack the introspection to evaluate the difference between real conviction and personally constructed dogma.  They can’t grow.

A hint?  If ten people tell you the same thing?  There is a chance, just a chance, that it may be true.  As painful as self-inspection is, it is a necessary component to self-realization.   Compromise isn’t always conformity.  Rebellion isn’t always noble.  Learn when to tell the difference.

Do they have ownership in the Society?

During the course of the my first reign, I made the startling realization that even after the six months of exhaustion and glory was over, that my experience in the Society was changed forever.  This was drilled home when I sat my vigil for the bestowal of my Pelican.  I no longer had the luxury (and I do mean luxury) of being “Bri, just Bri” anymore.  Every action I performed, every word uttered in public was now the word of a Royal Peer and a Pelican.  They would be taken with more weight, be seen as an example, be circulated and be emulated.  Try being the parent of a toddler that utters his first “f**k” and you understand the mortification when you realize that he is only copying YOU.  He is not thinking that you are just a person with flaws best not copied – he is thinking that you are THE model of what a person should be.

Every time I walk out of a cabin door, I have to be conscious that I am being watched, heard and judged because of what, not who, I am.  You have a choice of how people use that judgement.  The choice is this – you can be either the Peer “that people want to be when they grow up”, or you can be the Peer that people point to and say “Oh-my-god, they made HER a Peer, why not ME?!”  For better or worse, your actions reflect upon your entire Order, and to some extent on the Society as a whole.  You ARE a yardstick.  There is a sense of responsibility, of ownership, of stewardship, that must be present in order to wake every morning and pick up that heavy filter.  Which leads me to the last bit…

Humility.

People in a modern age have a very hard time understanding the concept of humility.  The confuse it with being “humble” about one’s accomplishments, a mild form of self-deprecation, but that manifestation only scratches the surface of what the medieval concept of humility encompassed.  One of the key concepts of humility revolved around the subjugation of the will to a higher power.  And by higher power, I don’t mean that Higher Power (although, medievally, it was part of the equation).

As I have said before I am not one of these people who believes that Peerage is not bestowed, but recognized.  The reason I no longer believe this is because of the power and necessity of the virtue of humility.  I will quote something I said earlier in this blog:

You can have every Knightly virtue in the book, but until the accolade is bestowed, you are still a squire.   Believing otherwise, even in your heart, too often leads to a sense of entitlement and bitterness that has no place in a struggle for virtue.

And the path to Peerage is a struggle for virtue.  At its very best, it makes you a better person, not just one with a longer resume.

So, what’s the deal with the humility, other than not to be too proud of yourself?  Nothing.   It is exactly that.  But you have to extend the ramifications.  If you adopt the attitude of “I am a Peer, I am just not recognized yet”, what you are saying is that your judgement is better than your Crown, and better than – not equal to, but better than –  the very Order you want to be a member of.   You have denied that Order and that Crown both trust and respect. 

Why would you want to be a member of something you don’t trust and respect?

Bit of a conundrum, isn’t it?  Humility in its purest form is, like any other virtue, a subjugation of the will.  It is the guard against hubris.  It is abandoning a portion of your fate to another power, one that you have to learn to trust, at least on an institutional basis.   It is recognizing that you don’t know everything and your judgement – even about yourself – can sometimes be faulty.  And most of all, it is recognizing that not everything is within your power to compel.  A Peer serves the Crown.  They subjugate their will to that authority.   Service, in both its basest and most exalted forms does not stop with the accolade.  And we cannot always choose what form that service takes.

So, concentrate on what is within your power.  You cannot necessarily always control what is done around you, or even done TO you.  You can only control your response to it.  You will use it to make yourself a better person.  Or you won’t.   And you will be recognized for it.  Or you won’t.  Want a surefire path to Peerage?  You’ve tapped the wrong Peer for that answer.

But even if you never get to wear the jewelry, and you are still the better person for it, who wins?