Being Miss America: Behind the Rhinestone Curtain (Discovering America) (28 page)

Although she no longer spends 90 percent of her time engaged in activism, Miss America still travels quite a lot. The old reliable “20,000 miles a month” statistic, calculated by Debbye Turner (1990), is trotted out regularly in interviews. And the salary structure, implemented around the time of the move from Atlantic City, incentivizes the office even more intensely to keep her moving. Gone are the days when Miss America collected the bulk of her appearance fees (less a 15 to 20 percent agent-type commission). At thousands of dollars per appearance, she can literally pay off her $10,000-a-month salary in just a couple of days; the salary approach ultimately translates to far more income for the pageant. It should again be noted, however, that the pageant built a significant reserve under the platform-era pay structure. Even with more gross income from Miss America’s appearances, MAO has been barely covering its operating expenses for years.

In February 2013, a bombshell: Miss America was leaving Las Vegas and returning to her roots in Atlantic City. Convention Hall—now known as Boardwalk Hall—would once again host the pageant, and it would move back to mid-September, instead of the January crowning date familiar to pageant-in-Vegas fans. Mallory Hagan, the first Miss America from New York since Vanessa Williams, would serve for only eight months; as a result of savvy contract negotiations on her part (and the foresight to have her post-crowning contract reviewed by a corporate attorney), she would be paid her monthly salary for a full year.

Pageant fans, for the most part, were stoked. There was a sense of rightness about the relocation. The online message board communities responded by posting dozens of vintage photos: the long runway, the cavernous hall packed to the rafters, one weepy, moving crowning after another.

Even Art McMaster—who probably didn’t mean to throw shade on Las Vegas, but managed to do it anyway—was glowing: “It was always my dream that this would return here,” he said. “Sadly, this organization went west for a while. That sadness is over. We are back to the city where the Miss America pageant began, where the Miss America pageant was raised, and where the Miss America pageant belongs.” Tactless, yet heartfelt—which, frankly, could serve as an MAO mantra.

In the days to follow, it would become apparent that the move was something of a perfect circle. Hurricane Sandy had devastated the Jersey Shore in October 2012. This was a coordinated effort by government, the public, and yes, Atlantic City businesspeople to declare that the seaside resort was open for business beyond Labor Day. It would also come to light that the break in the case, as it were, was orchestrated by a longtime volunteer; Lieutenant Governor Kim Guadagno, acting on behalf of Governor Chris Chris
tie, had called up the pageant’s head of security to arrange a meeting with the MAO brass. Don Wadsworth, a former FBI agent whom Guadagno recalled from her days as a prosecutor, made it happen.

For those in the know, though, the deal carried a bittersweet tinge. Rumors had been circulating for months that both CEO Art McMaster and Vice President Sharon Pearce would be departing the pageant offices, and that Miss America’s central headquarters would be relocating to New York. The news of the Atlantic City return certainly had the potential to make this less likely. A Las Vegas pageant had no good reason to retain office space in Linwood, New Jersey; an Atlantic City pageant did. The possible overhaul of the staff—in the name of efficiency, transparency, and good faith—was less likely.

Two months later, the news broke that MAO would be getting $7.3 million in subsidies for bringing the annual event back to the shore. The funding, spread over the three years of the pageant’s new contract, is roughly triple the amount Miss America received in 2004, her last year on the Boardwalk. True to the promise from Governor Christie and Lieutenant Governor Guadagno, this money did not include taxpayer dollars; it was reported to be a joint effort between the Atlantic City Convention and Visitors Authority (ACCVA) and the Casino Reinvestment Development Authority (CRDA). And it came at a pivotal moment for Atlantic City’s economy. Despite significant citywide redevelopment efforts over the preceding decade, the casino industry had been struggling. Trump Plaza had just been sold for a reported $20 million, the lowest price ever for a casino property (shortly thereafter, the mortgage holder blocked the deal, asserting that the price was too low). And the high-end Revel resort—opened just a year earlier—was already involved in bankruptcy proceedings. Clearly, Atlantic City was looking for something
to spur tourism and spending, and estimated that the return of the pageant and its satellite events would attract “129,200 people to the resort. Those people are expected to spend more than $32 million in Atlantic City.” The CRDA authorized a $5 million investment, with the ACCVA topping it off with another $2.3 million, spread over a three-year contract.

Additionally, there was a ray of sunshine regarding the platform issue. Miss America 2013, Mallory Hagan, was the second consecutive winner to gain increased traction with her personal crusade. In late April, MAO issued a press release announcing a joint appearance between Hagan and Miss America 1958, Marilyn Van Derbur, both of whom work to stop child sexual abuse.

And finally, there were staff changes—both positive and questionable. Rumors abounded that Chairman of the Board Sam Haskell was no longer willing to do his work for MAO without compensation, although it would be surprising if he—as a onetime highly successful and effective L.A. talent agent—hadn’t been collecting fees for brokering sponsorship deals, or as a credited executive producer of the telecast. At the very least, he had utilized MAO’s national network to promote his memoir,
Promises I Made My Mother
, and provided incentives to those state franchises that hosted signings or sold copies of the book during their competition weeks.

Ultimately, Haskell took Art McMaster’s job. McMaster “retired” soon after the announcement of the pageant’s return to Atlantic City. In the wake of his departure, Sharon Pearce was promoted yet again. Despite a less-than-stellar record at essentially every aspect of her previous job (media relations, outreach, proofreading), Pearce would become the new president of the Miss America Organization.

For his part, Sam Haskell succeeded where Leon
ard Horn had not: he managed to position himself as both chairman of the board (employer) and CEO (employee), a move that Sandra Miniutti of the independent watchdog group Charity Navigator strongly criticized. “The whole point of a board of directors and with a chair is that the person who runs the organization has to be accountable to somebody. You can’t be accountable to yourself.” According to Miss America’s 2012 tax returns, the MAO board had also agreed to pay Haskell’s consulting firm $500,000 for his past services—in a year when the organization was $430,000 in the red.
The Press of Atlantic City
’s Jennifer Bogdan interviewed Haskell and Pearce, noting that no chairman of Miss America’s board had ever been compensated for that volunteer position.

Haskell shrugged it off, both in Bogdan’s article and in a subsequent letter to the state organizations. Both he and Pearce “blamed the deficit on the fact that the organization had not properly accounted for putting on two competitions in one year”—even though the two competitions in question actually occurred in 2013, not the 2012 tax year. As for the $500,000 ($400,000 of which was deferred indefinitely), Haskell asserted that the rest of the board members “felt I had been taken advantage of for seven years. I’ve got all the network negotiations and all the advertising negotiations . . . I have really good friends on the board who decided it’s time for me to get something, you know?” And he explained his CEO contract simply by saying that his salary was not a set number, but only what MAO could afford to pay him. Charity Navigator’s Miniutti, in what can only be described as an understatement, called the arrangement “problematic.” Unmentioned in the article are the rampant rumors that there was no board vote on whether Haskell would take the job of CEO while remaining chairman of the board—the very individual with the most power to decide what any organization “can afford”
to pay its executive. It was indeed a maneuver worthy of his Hollywood roots.

Where the Miss America Organization goes from here is anybody’s guess. A strong case could be made that the pageant will continue down the same path that it has been traveling for many years, one that is reactive and marked by mismanagement on both the staff and the board levels. Another argument is that the move back to Atlantic City, the infusion of funding, and the network television presence will spark a top-down reinvention of the brand. There is certainly plenty of goodwill at the moment with regard to Miss America, and her heartland appeal has never completely gone away.

The most likely scenario is probably somewhere in the middle. The board of directors has so far not demonstrated an overwhelming urge to fix what ails the pageant. And as long as its members hear of the daily goings-on through the filter of those with vested interests (i.e., the salaried staff) the board will be unable to get a comprehensive read on where the dysfunction—and, more to the point, the potential—of the Miss America Organization lies.

Throughout the pageant’s nearly century-long history, there have certainly been hard times. There have been autocratic leaders, transformational Miss Americas, and above all, the volunteers, contestants, and fans who believe in the possibility that this institution can help to make the world better. But that belief doesn’t mean it just happens.

History is littered with the remains of well-intentioned entities that, for one reason or another, just couldn’t get their act together. If Miss America is to avoid a permanent place among them—and the hope, certainly, is that she will—she’ll have to save herself.

Perhaps the greatest irony of Miss America’s compli
cated history is the lesson she now must learn, one that the second-wave feminist movement sought to teach all women: No matter who you are, you have choices. And you’d best take a good hard look in the mirror and identify the choices that will benefit you in the long run. Because no matter what you’ve learned to believe, there’s nobody riding in on a white horse to save you.

EPILOGUE

Trying to summarize the cultural legacy of the Miss America Organization—especially as it relates to the sweeping changes in women’s lives since 1921—is a challenging task. An attempt to predict what Miss America will look like over the coming decades, however, is even more difficult. The internal struggles of the institution, and its unpredictable, often illogical leadership decisions, do not indicate a sunshine-and-unicorns future.

Many, many “pageant people” like to blame MAO’s travails on external forces beyond its control. They point to the sheer number of available TV channels as the factor that degrades the ratings, while conveniently ignoring that plenty of quality shows attract viewers simply by being smart and well-crafted productions. Reality shows, scripted comedies and dramas, special events, documentaries—truly, it can be said that in 2014, American viewers can actually be counted on to actively seek out what they want to watch, as well as decide when they want to watch it.

Pageant people believe that the Big Bad Women’s Movement is to blame for the decline of Miss America. While it’s true that the kind of mom-and-pop innocence on which
Miss America capitalized for decades has become largely (and sadly) obsolete, the organization has had many years to create a powerful message framed by third-wave feminism and the rights of young women to advance their fortunes through all available marketable skills, including their sex appeal. But Miss America has always been reluctant to leverage that particular capital, even as the telecast’s visuals and commentary make a convincing case that sex sells. In truth, the messy third-wave debate as a whole—tied as it is to very un-Miss America commodities, like pornography—is a tough nut to crack, let alone control. The platform issue had Miss America knocking on the door of cultural relevance with more force than at any time since Betty Friedan wrote
The Feminine Mystique
, generating positive press coverage and a substantive body of work. Sure, it would always be tough going to make believers out of skeptics. But the journey down the toughest road can lead to the greatest rewards.

These days, the pageant simply doesn’t do much to brand itself except put young women in crowns on television. The abundance of competitors and reality shows that portray pageants as catty, demeaning, altogether unpleasant enterprises make it more important than ever for the pageant to project a strong message. Young women who see
Toddlers and Tiaras
or the
Miss Universe
skin show don’t understand what makes Miss America different . . . and for its part, the Miss America Organization does a pretty poor job of separating itself from the pack. In fact, MAO has become such a revolving door of sponsors and
their
pet projects that it’s hard to discern any mission or message at all. Miss America is here, there, and everywhere. She’s at Dairy Queen hustling Blizzards, she’s at Value City hawking furniture, she’s pushing a cosmetic line and a clothing line and STEM education for girls. She’s at a supermarket, gathering change that supposedly benefits sick kids, but a hefty portion of which actually pays the six-figure sala
ries of the company execs. She’s basically selling the familiarity of the Miss America name and celebrating her own Miss America-ness . . . but to anyone with a few minutes to think about it, there’s just not much “there” there. Meanwhile, the little girls who used to aspire to wear the crown are dreaming of becoming CEOs instead. Or PhDs. Or sitting behind their very own desk in the Oval Office.

The craziest part is that many, many, many great ideas have come along over the years. Frank Deford offered a gem in 1971, when he suggested dispensing with the nightly preliminary swimsuit and talent awards and just advancing the highest scorers directly to the Saturday-night finals. Even today, a change like that could amp up media attention throughout pageant week, and most of the preliminary winners make the cut anyway. His persuasive case for the move, however, went the way of most well-reasoned, strategic ideas—which is to say, nowhere at all. If the good ideas take the form of potential sponsorships, those sponsors eventually just get frustrated and stop offering their support. A common complaint is MAO’s habit of not responding to phone calls, faxes, and requests in a timely, professional manner, whether those overtures are coming from big corporations or local organizations seeking to bring Miss America to their events. In 2010, Caressa Cameron’s mother pulled enough strings to get her daughter invited to the White House; when she passed the opportunity along to the office staff, they exchanged e-mails among themselves making fun of her. And accidentally cc’d her on their mockery.