Waiting nervously in the sweltering Nebraska sun, all eyes were upon the judges who were carefully calculating the scores that would determine the winner of this year’s Little Miss John C. Fremont Pageant.
With more that two dozen girls participating, the competition was keen. I say this not because I know anything about judging small town beauty pageants but because several hundred spectators–I’m guessing mostly parents, grandparents, great grandparents, great great grandparents, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, distant cousins, and a few unfortunate next door neighbors–were vocal and animated when their favorites took the stage.
Competing in an “evening gown” event, these young girls represented themselves beautifully. And, when the winners were announced, contestants and adults alike were gracious and dignified.
Still at the end of the day, I had to wonder whether pageants do more harm than good. Sure, there are the fortunate few who shine brightly but there are also a lot of little girls who get very real feedback in terms of not measuring up. It makes me think about the lyrics of Janice Ian’s melancholic lament about the harsh realities of beauty:
To those of us who knew the pain
of valentines that never came
and those whose names were never called
when choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
The world was younger than today
when dreams were all they gave for free
to ugly duckling girls like me.
One can only hope that these young girls received a lot of love and support for making themselves vulnerable and taking a very big risk at such a young age.
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