Every year, the Miss America pageant captures the attention of millions, its shimmering gowns and heartfelt performances painting a picture of aspirational beauty. This year, my friend Diana was covering the story of Miss Massachusetts for her town magazine and invited me to attend the finale of the pageant with her. It’s not something that I would’ve ever attended otherwise so I was curious enough to tag along.
Since its beginnings in 1921, the Miss America pageant has served as a stage for what American society often defines as “ideal” womanhood. Though framed as a celebration of talent, intelligence, and ambition, there has always been the pressure to conform to an aesthetic and behavioral standard. And if the theme of the movie, Miss Congeniality, is anything to go by, conforming to societal expectations is the whole point of the pageant. But I’d heard that the competition has evolved in some ways, including the removal of the swimsuit segment, so being the eternal optimist that I am, I wondered if the new version of the pageant would be more empowering and inclusive.
Once the show began, I realized that their evolution is in line with their purpose – to offer the public an illusion of perfection – that has resulted in the height of performative actions. For example, the swimsuit segment has been replaced by the “fitness competition”. I’d imagined that this would be an actual competition of physical fitness in some way, but as the final 11 contestants paraded out on stage, I realized that I’d been sorely mistaken. Yes, there were no swimsuits. Instead, the finalists wore shorts and sports bras and modeled these one by one against a backdrop of each contestant demonstrating their fitness prowess on the big screen. Some were filmed doing yoga or pilates, some played tennis or danced or skied. So no swimsuits, but the competition was still based on how one looks in a skimpy outfit and nothing to do with fitness.
Of course, this all got me thinking about how these microcosms of society influence, and are influenced by, society at large and the difference between performative measures and authentic organizational change. Declaring that you have changed and actually implementing the changes to follow through with the desired effects are two different things. Saying that you are diverse and inclusive as an organization while offering zero representation of inclusion is performative at best. When marginalized folks mistakenly enter what they believe to be an inclusive space based on these performative measures, then it becomes downright harmful. Whether you call it a fitness competition or a swimsuit competition makes no difference if there is no representation of diverse body shapes. This was driven home even more when Diana informed me that one of the preliminary finalists for the fitness competition had openly talked about her battle with anorexia during the pageant. And don’t even get me started on the lack of diversity in all other categories of intersectionality!
In this age of social media, illusionary perfection and performative evolution is the trading currency. The Miss America organization needs to do better. The pageant may intend to inspire, but the unintended consequence can be the reinforcement of the internalization of inadequacy. The message to these impressionable young women, both contestants and viewers, may be even more insidious. The focus on presenting a flawless image often leaves little room for vulnerability or genuine self-expression, and the exposure to these idealized images can distort perceptions of worth, leading to struggles with self-esteem, identity, and mental health.
There is, however, an opportunity to reimagine what Miss America represents. By embracing diversity—in body types, cultural backgrounds, physical (dis)abilities, neurodiversity, and other marginalized intersectionalities—the pageant could serve as a platform for authentic empowerment. True confidence is not born from perfection but from the acceptance of lived reality rather than illusions. This shift would not only humanize contestants but also resonate more deeply with audiences seeking connection rather than comparison. To evolve, it must move beyond performative actions and the illusion of perfection. Instead highlight the richness of individuality. When we prioritize authenticity over artifice, we can create space for more inclusive society.
Of course, this applies to all organizations, and in the context of our microcosm of the equine assisted services world, it’s important to ask ourselves what illusions are being portrayed through performative measures in lieu of actual progress? I’m curious to hear your thoughts.
With curiosity and warmth,
Veronica
Executive Director