I pass like night, from land to land;
Newer members, those who joined after the late '80s, have no idea of what Mensa was like in the early days. They do know that membership numbers are now rising, but few are aware that total membership was larger back then. Newer members know that we have a large hired staff in Texas, but they don't know that we once managed nicely with four or five people in Brooklyn, New York — and that was before the Internet and massive computer assistance. They may know that our local group newsletters face financial crises today. We had such problems back then, but to a lesser degree. Mailing and printing costs have risen faster than national remittances to local groups.
They may know that any member, reasonably well known locally, can run with a good chance for success for a regional position on the AMC. But, have they noticed that the core of AMC remains relatively unchanged from year to year as seated officers move up in the hierarchy, or just trade positions?
Worse, few members, older or newer, know what is happening internally in the organization. Only those who attend our Annual Gatherings or belong to our member-run, not Mensa-sponsored, websites, know that we've been expelling members from Mensa lately at an alarming rate (one per year for the last three years), violating our own Bylaws and Constitution in the process. That information never appears in our national publication, the Bulletin.
Those who manage the local groups, your local elected officers, are subject to increasingly inflexible rules regulating what they can do and how they must do it. AMC now mandates local bylaws, even telling us how we must structure our local Boards and the formats our Regional Gatherings must follow. The result, as any creative individual must realize, is stagnation and mediocrity.
It wasn't always like that.
Back in the early days (I believe it was in the late '60s, or possibly 1970), we in Los Angeles faced financial problems. An ambitious editor had run our treasury dry. A group of local members decided to hold a fundraiser.
We collaborated with a science fiction group and agreed to share the profits with them. We made arrangements with the local Elks Temple, a great barn of a place. We got the ticket receipts; they got the bar take. Elaborate science fiction sets were built, rockets included. Entertainment was an episode of "Side Track," a takeoff on the original TV series Star Trek. We had an all-Mensa cast and an all-Mensa stage crew (no curtain). An all-female crew was body-painted as Klingons. Diane Webber, America's finest belly dancer, performed (she'd been a body double for Marilyn Monroe in nude long shots). Someone arranged for the cast of Star Trek to attend the event and mingle. We publicized it in the local media as a Mensa event, open to the public. The event was a fantastic success. We — and the science fiction group — made a ton of money. Our treasury was back in business, and we had a huge local increase in applications for Mensa membership.
We never asked for AMC approval during the conception, planning or implementation of the event. To my best recollection, we never even notified them of what we were doing. Today, they would have been on our backs like thousand-pound gorillas.
The same freedom held true when we participated in the Renaissance Pleasure Faire with a castle set, which we used as our dressing room (donated by the Burbank Civic Light Opera and erected by the National Guard). The Mensa flag flew above the castle: A cracked yellow egg on a blue field. Mensans in mediaeval costumes hawked candied apples, prepared on the spot in an enormous, nineteenth-century copper cauldron. We made more money than any other concession at the Faire that year. We didn't check with AMC.
How long will it be before local activities to generate income or increase recruitment meet with the same fate as activities that deal with community welfare projects, such as Project Inkslinger? A motion on the September 2002 agenda for the AMC meeting addresses those projects already:
Moved PENDLEY, seconded RUDOLPH and BEATTY that ASIE 1997-072 be amended as follows:
We told the Vice Chair to get lost. We told the AMC that we could manage Victor's visit our way, like it or not. Of course, the visit was hugely successful. The publicity was great, and membership climbed.
Alas, little like these happenings could be done today. The managing authorities must now have their fingers in every pie, regulate every aspect of Mensa life. Imagination and creativity, at least regarding Mensa affairs, are now just words in the dictionary.
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Our members
in general aren't aware of the fact that Leadership Development Workshops,
mini-gatherings to promote leadership principles, must adhere to rigid
patterns newly imposed by our national council of control. Recently,
some members requested that certain local events be posted to the national
Mensa website so that members not in the immediate area and not receiving
the local group newsletter might attend if interested. Those making
the proposal were quickly told that everything had to be officially
approved and conform to specific patterns by the hierarchy before it
could be posted.
Back then,
our autonomy extended to almost anything the local group wanted to do,
even when AMC tried to impose its will on us. There was Victor Serebriakoff's
first visit to California. You may have heard of Victor. He's the man
who built Mensa. AMC did advise us of his visit. A bunch of us got together
and arranged an itinerary: radio and TV spots, parties, dinners, hosts,
the whole nine yards. Then we heard from AMC. The Regional Vice Chair
presented us with his planned itinerary for Victor, which was
a disaster. It included an appearance on the Joe Pine Show, which
specialized in shredding anyone stupid enough to volunteer for it. That
show plan also featured this same AMC officer as the real star.