What I Am Learning About Community From Hosting Kink Events.

Five years ago, if you told me that I would be teaching kink-and-sex ed classes, hosting workshops and social events, I would have wondered what was going to happen to me in the future that would make me lose all of my principles. I don’t mean that hosting events means you have no principles, I mean that I had always been extremely adamant that I wouldn’t be an educator or an event host. I had a few reasons and some of them still stand as continuing apprehensions. They’re not all just personal apprehensions, they’re also conventions of the kink community, kink events and how “leadership” of this kind tends to play out. 

There are unspoken, unnecessary politics at play. I don’t believe any organiser ever instituted an event with the active *thought* that it would be the only one, I believe most of them started because there was a need to create the space and the joy of taking initiative, but then certain events become establishment and when newer ones come up, they are decidedly viewed as competition (or an ideological affront) and sometimes as attempts to step on someone’s toes instead of just being viewed as more spaces, alternate spaces or more esoteric/niche spaces. In some cities, I have heard of munches that are organised by different groups being referred to as “rival munches,” I have heard event organisers bash newer event-attempts as laughable, I have seen the “*if you attend their event, you cannot attend ours*” thing at play, I have seen personal issues play out as exclusion and honestly, it gives me the ick. If I host an event, my motivation is not that I want it to be *better* than another event, the measure of success isn’t relative, it's not whether we have more people or more glory than another event, my motivation has to do with why I hosted the event in the first place and the "success" is measured by factors that are relevant to the comfort, value, knowledge, space derived by the individual. 

But it's about more than motivation. One of the undeniable truths of organising events is that no good deed goes unpunished. It's true, people make a lot of effort (and often without remuneration, which also, is not my style, I'll be honest), and it is a position in which you are constantly scrutinized, I don't mind scrutiny (and truly, I'd be impressed if an external party was applying more scrutiny to me than I am) but I do mind being misunderstood or explained as a function of what I am doing (in the community). I also worry about ideology. I find, ideology is at the centre of a lot of events and a lot of the goals people have for community, and personally, i fear ideology that is stronger than action (which is often the case), but the truth also is that when it comes to doing things like this there is a(n) (eternal) learning curve for the organiser as well. I learn out loud. For instance, if I write a book, i will probably also write an essay about the experiment of writing the book and what I learnt from the process, I will spend some time delving into the mistakes i made, the things I think worked and the stuff that I could avoid in the future. So it is with events as well. Ideologically, I want to create spaces that are safe, inclusive, accessible to all kinds of people, educationally dense, empowering and not centralised in terms of power (much more on that later) but in actuality, I have to do a few events to get closer to the idealised state, to figure out a system that works well and to see what doesn't work. I have to do some shit even to discover that it doesn't work or that I don't like it. I am not sure the space to take that time exists because it seems like there are always daggers drawn on all sides of you. 

Though, I have come to decide that I must do what I do, be open about it through the process and ignore the rest. I feel, already, from the few classes and other events I have hosted, I have learnt some things. I have learnt that I am easily and heavily engaging in person, but I can be dull and somewhat un-fun as an online teacher, because I am not enjoying the process and I am constantly thinking why I didn't just write this down as an essay instead, I haven't found my online-teaching groove, so I am not sure if that is something I will be able to continue doing (even though it has the potential to be quite lucrative). I have learnt that when you host a social event in a large, heavily frequented location, just telling people who the reservation is in the name of, may still lead to people getting here and feeling lost about who to approach. People appreciate nametags, especially for pronouns. Little things. I have learnt that when people come to social events, they sometimes worry that no one will talk to them and people who already know each other well will break off into groups and only speak with one another, but that can be circumvented by a little extra effort on the part of the organisers and some strategic introductions. Bigger things. I have learnt that I cannot 100% guarantee that no one will misbehave/be inappropriate at my events, no matter how rigorously I vet, but people respond well to immediate, decisive action on the part of the organiser and responsibility when that happens, and transparency of the process. Most of time, the approach is big talk, long discussions and then fizzling out of the issue, instead, it seems better received when you act immediately  and decisively (and in keeping with what the person who has been victimized wants on a personal level). That doesn't mean that the person who was. It's reassuring to keep learning from the process and it makes me feel more comfortable to be open about that. 

Because, you know how it often is with community leaders and organizers, right? You go from idealist, driven and determined to "holier than thou," defensive and overly self-pleased so, so quickly sometimes. A lot of times. And even when you don't, because you aren't actively discussing how you are changing or what is happening, you may just have that image projected onto you. Like, okay, can we just admit that there is some inherent power we ascribe to event hosts/community leaders (and please, i am not sure exactly how we decide who qualifies as a leader, so don't like, ask me)? The power to control access to spaces, the power to have your word hold more "merit" and maybe value than another's, the power to be more easily trustworthy especially because you may the first point of contact for a lot of people who "join" the community, even the power of being a little awe-inspiring to people who have always wanted to do some things and they are meeting someone who has been, the power to being a heavy influence on how someone views or understands the conventions of kink. However, understanding this power is a tricky process for the person who may hold it, taking cognizance of it seems important to making better decisions (especially because it's so easy to take advantage of this position) and taking too much cognizance of it seems self-important and egoistic. This is the main reason I have been eager to avoid teaching and hosting and why I have loudly proclaimed, repeatedly, that I wouldn't do it. I have different concerns about both things and obviously, I will address them one by one. 

Teaching is a responsibility and it implies a level of expertise. Writing is inherently perspective in nature and even if I claim authority over something as a writer, ultimately, I have the authority of a person who is words on a screen/page and ideally any trust my readers develop in me will be cultivated over time and on the basis of actually consuming my work and resonating with it or finding it useful/entertaining. Teaching implies some credibility and expertise as part of the role and I don't know if I have that. I don't think kink-expertise is a real thing, except when it is skill-based (and tbh, I got no skills), so then why do I feel like I am qualified to teach anything? I have some quantifiable qualifications, in that, i may have more expertise and/or credibility in the fields of writing, communication and reporting (because of education and work experience) than some other people but those aren't kink things. I don't have more *expertise* as a slave or masochist. I have some experience. Is it okay to teach experience even though experience is heavily-coloured by who one is as a person? I don't actually think so. In teaching, I have come to realise, experience is good for data and examples, but all I am really comfortable teaching is frameworks. I cannot tell anyone what makes a good dominant or the *right* way to CNC but I am good at deconstruction, analysis and synthesis, so I can tell you about the things that you may not have thought to consider and how you can use certain structures to determine and maybe achieve who you want to be as a kinkster/sexual person/maybe person. That's what I like as a teacher, it's not controlling knowledge nor disseminating my perspective as fact or as superior, it's breaking things down into comprehensible functions that I love (and I am good at it, I am good at the process of setting up frameworks that make discovery, communication and self-awareness more accessible and adaptable) and so long as I am proactive about presenting not as an expert but as a person with some experience, some knowledge, some skill and something to say, I feel more comfortable. I would like to continue doing that despite the fact that I do still have some reservations about presenting as an "authority". 

I would not like to continue hosting social events. I think social events are very valuable but I don't think I am the right person to create sustainable social spaces because I know that I will tire of it and no longer be interested because I am barely interested as it is. I also don't enjoy social events so much so I don't think I will have the best ideas for them. I don't want to be a community leader in this way, I swear I don't say that to look good or seem "humble" I just don't think communities should have leaders. Not like *that*. Not in the way that I have experienced in kink, queer and other communities I have been a part of. I have no interest in building a social brand, in making little insta reels of relevance, I don't want to be *known* for this, I have no desire for access-control. However, of late, I have been thinking that perhaps approaching it as building a brand or a group is the problem, because I could be interested in building a platform, instead, not for myself, but for other people who have great ideas. There are lots of people who are brilliant, driven, interested and want to create social spaces/events but may not have the reach, the know-how, the platform, the space, the support that they need and I am totally into doing that.

I like this idea where there isn't really a core group of people running things, there is definitely no individual "leader" whose ideology on running things is paramount, there is no *running* things, but if there are people who want to do things, and you know how to do them, you help them set them up and then you let them carry them on as they wish. I like how decentralised it is. There is shit I am good at — logistics, meeting deadlines, process development and management, production, financial management and I have enough reach to be able to really use it — and there is shit other people are great at and passionate about but pulling it together may be too daunting or come with a learning curve and taking that step alone is kinda scary. Why don't we use our tools to equip other people? I tried that recently and I have to say, it was amazing, not only is it amazing to watch someone realise their idea and be part of helping them with it, it's amazing to find that you can create community space in which retaining power and control are not primary or even, important. In that capacity, I like the idea of being involved as a "get it off the ground" person, and then stepping away. It's the same approach as raising my sisters, you help equip them to realise the version of themselves they love, and then you watch them flourish without remaining invested in management of them. I really hate the "it/they will always be my child to me" approach in things. I don't like it as a parental approach or an organisational one, and I have been involved in enough activist, advocacy etc groups to know that handing them off is a problem for the "founders," as is relinquishing control in the form of welcoming new ideas, ideology and leaders.  

But you gotta do it if the cause is more important than how it makes you feel. It won't always go well. Sometimes you'll hand off something to another person who does it terribly or completely differently that you would have, but that's gotta be okay, unless the plan is to hold onto everything you have ever created or conceived in a mirepot of powerplay forever. I can't do that, it doesn't feel good, but this does. This feels great. Even in terms of the massaging of my own ego, the fact that there are people who truly believe I could help them achieve their ideas is very flattering, I'm not so virtuous that it doesn't feel good. It does, but it's the kind of good-feeling that exists only to experience, not tout. I'm into it. I'm also into active, open, rumination about the things I am doing or helping with, I feel like that is absent when we talk about events we talk about them in the form of criticism as attendees, praise or fawning, or as hosts about how difficult and/or gratifying it is, but it's so much more? 

There are ethical aspects to actively consider. There are things that are ongoing that I would like to talk about out loud, whether that is the unspoken politics, the logistical challenges, the safety protocols, the culturally-specific elements and the weird competition. There are personal things at play. There is stuff you learn and things you could do better with feedback. There are funny and weird experiences along the way. There are mistakes that you realise, want to talk about, admit and not just in the format where it's a prepared PR version of a statement. I guess what I am saying is, when it comes to events and teaching, I have writing to do. Score.