Becoming a Peer

Articles and comments concerning the process of becoming a peer.

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A "keeper" posting from the An Tir all-peers list, 26 May XLI/2006:

Greetings from E.B.

Anne-Marie Rousseau <[address deleted to preserve privacy]> wrote on 25/05/2006 02:24:13 PM:
[...]
> so who are these unrecognized masses? where are they, and how, with
> everything that
> we're doing, are they being missed?
[...]
> --Anne-Marie

I suspect that the unrecognized masses aren't really as unrecognized as some folks might think.

Here's what I think may be happening:

Lady Jane sees Lord Joe DoesCoolStuff autocrating events, holding offices, and generally being a good service mavin. She recommends Lord Joe for a Pelican because he has a Goutte already. And nothing happens...

At least nothing happens from her point of view.

What's really happened is that her recommendation went to the principality/regional Pelican circle. They already had Lord Joe on their radar and added Lady Jane's recommendation to his file. They discuss Lord Joe and reach essentially the same conclusion that they reached six months ago when they discussed him last (just after he got his Goutte) -- he's well on his way on the Pelican track, but he's only been in the Society for four years, he hasn't autocratted anything but very small local events or held any but local shire offices, he hasn't learned how to delegate yet, and he's hardly known by anyone outside of his local branch.

But now the regional Pelicans know his name. And the next time one of them runs into Lord Joe around the campfire, Joe ends up in a conversation with them about the tips and tricks of running a larger event. And someone makes sure that he hears about a opening in a principality office that he might be suited for. Or his branch is solicited to host a principality event next summer with him as autocrat. Heck, the Pel from NextShireOver might even be making protege overtures in his direction.

Has Lord Joe gone unrecognized? Not at all. No, he hasn't gotten any awards based on Lady Jane's recommendation, but we're cultivating him like crazy.

Yes, I'm playing with the two meanings of "recognition". But just because they haven't received the recognition of a Peerage (or any other award), doesn't mean that they have been entirely missed, overlooked, ignored, or unrecognized.

Mistress Elizabeth "E.B." Braidwood

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A "keeper" posting from the Steps, 24 Feb XL/2006:

Shalimariah wrote on 24/02/2006 03:44:00 PM:

Ok.. so let me get this straight because I am not the brightest candle in the keep and I want to make sure I understand what I have been reading up to this point... ;)

_IF_ I start working my butt off, now in 20+ years I could maybe get a Laurel or a Pelican for work that I had already done up to that point. Then it would be expected by the masses that I continue to work my butt off at that same level after recieving said peerage. In addition to that I would be expected to take on apprentices/proteges and teach them and teach lots of Ithra Classes and spend almost all my time at events in meetings or judging (if a Laurel) and then for added fun I could have the general masses taking pop shots at me if for some reason I were to at any point sit down in the shade to have some iced tea because now that I am a peer all I do is sit on my butt???

Cairbre replied:

In short, 'No.'

Let's pick a newbie out of the crowd. Over there... no, not you... the lady next to you... YOU!!! Yes, thank you.

To protect the identities of everyone involved, we're going to call you... Newbie. Here follows some years in the SCA.

Newbie will go to her first event and somewhere inside her, in that same place that makes her stop and look at the colors of a sunset and go, "WHOA! That is so cool!", she sees all of the people in all of the clothes from all of the times and places doing all of the stuff that's done and her inner child sticks its head out and says, "WHOA! That is so cool!." Unlike most, Newbie listens to her inner child and decides to come back to another event. Newbie's Inner Child is pleased.

Now the years begin to pass. You, Newbie, start out as a woman from Generia sometime during the Generian Year of the Can-of-Spaghetti'Os-and-warm-Pepsi. You see the Elizabethan and the Russ. Somewhere in there, your inner child sticks its head out again and when it sees that couple wearing the matched garb, Inner Child says, "WHOA! That is so cool!"

So, giving in to Inner Child's excitement, you grit your teeth, squint your eyes, toss of a quick prayer and work up the nerve to speak with one of the matched garb wearing folks. Much to your surprise, they offer to show you how they made it. You visit them with the pile of fabric they suggested and several hours later, POOF!, you've got similar garb. You and your inner child are thoroughly grooving on this now. You look at references they suggested, contact some other folks who are interested in similar things and time passes.

Now you're at your umpty-leventh event, wearing your new garb, similar to the first bits you made but now that you know more about the era from which it hails, you've made some changes; added a bit more amber and traded that humongous copal broach for one made of carved granite. You're wandering about doing what it is you do and someone wearing a bedsheet T-tunic comes up to you and says, "WHOA! That is so cool!" You, blush, mumble and then realize they're sincere and not just schmoozing because you're wearing spiffy clothes. You tell them that it's just field garb but hey, if they're interested, come by our camp by the big tree after evening court, they can take a look at some of the patterns and stuff...( of course you've got the patterns and stuff in your tourney chest, you've been trading patterns, fabric and whatever else for a couple of years now and you'd no more forget them than you'd forget food.)

They show up at your camp after evening court and they're honestly interested. You show them that it's not terribly complicated but when you looked at the book that someone else recommended to you, it showed how to cut some corners on the trim, just like they did in the time and place from whence your garb hails. The T-tunic wearer blushes, mumbles, hems and haws... then they say, "ummm... could you show me how to make one for myself?" You don't even think about it and you say, "sure, swing by my place next Thursday and we'll get you sorted out. Hancock's has it's whatever on sale and you'll need about three yards of it in whatever colors you like."

Next Thursday arrives and the T-tunic wearer knocks at your door. You let them and their significant other in, as well as somebody who hangs out with them and it's off to the sewing room. You show them patterns, you show them scissors and your sewing machine. Fabric is cut, bad jokes are told (some even laughed at) and you invite them back next Thursday to finish sewing it together. Next Thursday arrives and in short order, they've gone from T-tunic to mumble-teenth century whatever. The following Saturday, you show up at another event and there they are, wearing the whatcha-ma-callit you showed them how to make. Your inner child says, "WHOA! That is so cool!"

This happens many more times. By then you realize you're spending an awful lot of your Thursdays helping people make their garb so you go to that first T-tunic wearer and say, "hey, you've made a bunch of these and you're pretty good. At September Crown, I'm going to give an informal class on this style and if you can make it, I'd like you to help me out. Their inner child says, "WHOA! That is so cool!"

Crown comes and goes and the person who helped you is now spending some of their own Thursdays passing on what you taught them. You and they exchange desperately overdue library books and print-outs from the internet. Pretty soon someone wearing a pretty spiffy circlet comes to you and says, "ummmm... errrrr... At July Coronation, the College of Ithra is doing a day of garb making classes. Would you be willing to bring some of your documentation and teach a class on mumble-teenth century whatcha-ma-callits?"

You gasp... Your eyes cross... You mutter... Your inner child says, "HOLY SH...!!!" You gasp out, "Sure, I can do that."

So, you show up at Coronation with your stuff. You call the first T-tunic wearer and they've agreed to bring some of their stuff. Pretty soon you're standing in front of a bunch of people who are all honestly interested in listening to what you've got to say about the whatcha-ma-callits. Your inner child is still hiding, not a big fan of public speaking it seems. The class goes pretty well and pretty soon, you're getting email and phone calls asking you to clarify whatever it is they need clarified.

This happens several more times. This goes on for a While(tm). Years pass, sometimes a few, sometimes more than a few. Each passing year has you showing up at events seeing more people who spent their Thursdays learning whatcha-ma-callit making. You see more and more people who spent other days learning about whatcha-ma-callits from people who spent their Thursdays at your house. You've got piles of books and print-outs that run from floor to ceiling, you're on your seventh sewing machine and own enough fabric to effectively cover the mundane state of Minnesota. You overhear people saying, "Could you ask Lady Newbie about the way this particular thingy was sewn when they made whatcha-ma-callits?" You smile when the person is scooted over to you with a quiet, "Oh good god, ask her yourself, she doesn't bite." You see another person wearing a pretty-damn-good whatcha-ma-callit and you tell them, "Fabricioni used this widget in the 1500s but it was too expensive so eventually someone in France discovered how to do it with the other kind of widget. Let me post you with some references and if you can swing by on Thursday, I can show you the illustrations in my own books. Also, Master whazizname is making absolutely fantastic late period French style widgets and he's selling them cheap. I'll loan you mine for a couple of weeks and if it works, I'll put you in touch with him and we can get one for you." Their inner child says, "WHOA! That is so cool!"

Finally, that first T-tunic wearer is getting their long overdue Award of Arms at 12th Night and you want to be there. You're off to that event. Pretty soon you realize you're at an awful lot of events. You think you may be burning out but every time you see someone you know getting recognized, an awful lot of that burnout disappears.

You go to 12th Night and see them get their award and now you can stop sending letters of recommendation for them. You talk with friends and discuss whatcha-ma-callits and everything else. You skip out for a quick snack and a beleaguered Herald runs up and says, "I'm sorry, Lady Newbie, Their Majesties have asked to see you in court, something about the people you've been helping with the whatcha-ma-callits."

Your inner child says, "OH SH...!!!!"

But you go. Damnit anyway, they've been making good whatcha-ma-callits and they deserve the recognition you've been trying to get for them. (Your inner child is still pretty iffy about all of this, Courts are BIG crowds...)

You come into court and there are a bazillion people staring at you. The King says, "Will Her Ladyship Newbie, come before us, there's a matter of great importance to our Kingdom and we have to have her help Us resolve it." (Your inner child is playing 'This 'ittle piggy' and ignoring you by this point, you're on your own)

You go before Their Majesties, your knees are shaking, your voice is long since gone past 'quivering' and well into 'incoherent babbling.' You have NO idea what's what. (OH BLOODY HELL!!! Is this about Her Majesty's best friend's sewing machine? You told her... YOU TOLD HER that it wouldn't handle that many layers of wool and silk... ARGH!!!)

You kneel and the King says, "Knowing well the mastery of the arts and science of making Whatcha-ma-callits and knowing full well your long standing efforts to learn from those who can teach and teach those who will learn. Seeing the fruits of your labors and the gleaming results of your teachings as We gaze upon Our subjects, We Big-Dude, King by Right of Arms; and We Scary-Good-Costumer, Queen by Right of Inspiration having been approached by persons of quality and standing of our Kingdom, We do recognize you as a Peer of our Realm and ask you to accept membership in the Order of the Laurel."

You honestly can't believe you just heard what you just heard... I mean, you've got five or six people you've taught to make whatcha-ma-callits and they all do it better than you... and that guy from the south of the Kingdom, the guy who annoys the hell out of you, he's got a better library and his job with the University gives him access to resources you can't even imagine... and... and... and...

"Their Majesties require the presence of the members of the Order of the Laurel attend them that they might witness Lady Newbie being admitted to their Order."

Mistress Whazername, the person who invited you over that very first event, is standing there with tears in her eyes, Master whose-merwhatz who's wearing that broach you made years ago stands there with tears in his eyes. You keep saying to yourself, "OH SH... There's gotta be a mistake... I mean... um... these guys are all Laurels... they're so incredibly good at what they do... Their Majesties have got the wrong person... I wasn't there that night..."

You are presented with a medallion of a Laurel wreath and exhorted by the Crown to basically keep on keeping on. Your eyes go all fuzzy when you stand up and the members of the Order of the Laurel all offer you a hug or a word of kindness as you pass among them. The Court leaps to its feet and if you weren't so shocked by everything going on, you'd hear them cheering your name. You spend the next several hours floating above the ground.

As you're headed back to where ever you're headed, someone passes by and sees the garb you're wearing. If you listen very closely, you'll hear their inner child say, "WHOA! That is so cool."

With adjustments for service and skill at arms, this my friends, is where Peers come from.

Cairbre

[This feels almost like grafiti...but, Cairbre, thanks - you made my eyes water remembering what that process felt like for me --Guerin]

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The Difference Between A Squire Saying "I Wanna Be a Knight Someday" and Anybody Saying "I'm Gonna Be a Laurel/Pelican Someday"

by Mistress Elizabeth Braidwood, OP (Aug 1996)

The question is: "How come it's okay for squires to say they want to be a knight, but it's not okay for me to say I want to be a Laurel or a Pelican?"

The difference is "Wanna" vs. "Gonna", and not Knight vs. Laurel/Pelican, as many people seem to think.

Peers as a group do not mind hearing "I want to be a peer someday." When we hear it, we know we are listening to someone who aspires to a goal; someone who is willing to work on both projects and self; someone who is committed to the ideals of the Society and is willing to dedicate significant effort in its upkeep and development. In our mind we hear them saying "I want to fight as well as a knight or master does. I want to make things at the same level of quality that a Laurel does. I want to work and make things happen the way a Pelican does." Wanting to be a peer is a fine and worthy goal to go a-questing for.

But when we hear "I'm going to be a Peer someday.", we hear someone who thinks they have the game figured out; someone who thinks they know the rules and knows exactly how much effort it will take to become a peer; we hear someone who thinks that all it takes is doing the Right Thing at the Right Place with the Right People. In our minds we hear them saying "I want the respect that peerage regalia gets. I want to hang around with important people. I want to sit in secret meetings. But I'm willing to do only just enough to get me there." Expecting to become a peer and telling people about it will delay a peerage indefinitely.

At some level, we resent non-peers telling us that they should be one of us. We, and only we, choose who we invite to join our orders. But it's a lot more than that. Someone who is expecting a peerage before it is offered is missing the point of what it means to be a peer.

A peerage doesn't come with a certificate that says "Master Joe is now entitled to three measures of Respect, 12 minutes per reign of private audience with either the King or the Queen, and the Right to correct anyone breaking the rules." Each of those, and many other 'rights' that go with peerage, must be Learned and Earned before peerage is offered. It's tough to earn a peerage, but in many ways it's tougher to be a Peer.

When we hear someone say "I'm going to be a Peer some day." we hear someone who wants the regalia and the glory, but hasn't figured out that saying "I'm going to be a Peer some day." is not a peer-like think to say.

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See also In case of peerage for a document to prepare just in case.