Let me start by saying: I love our events. The pageants, the fiesta programs, the coronation nights, all of it. I’m there covering them because I genuinely enjoy the spectacle and the community that shows up for it. But after some time behind the lens, watching program after program from the pit, I’ve built up a little list. Nothing in here is meant to tear anyone down. Think of it as feedback from someone who keeps coming back.
So here are nine things I wish would change.
1. Start on time.
Waiting for the judges? Fair enough, the show can’t be scored without them. But waiting for the politicians? Ngek! The event is for the people. Why should the crowd sit through the boredom of waiting just because a guest with a title hasn’t arrived yet? The people showed up on time. The least we can do is respect that.
2. Less talk from the politicians.
I know why this happens. In pageants especially, the talking fills time while candidates change costumes backstage. I get it, somebody has to stretch the program. But let’s be honest with ourselves: nobody is sitting in that crowd waiting to be moved by a speech. Sometimes they even bill it as “words of inspiration” or an “inspirational message.” Inspirational to whom, exactly? Call a few, keep it short, and move on. Better yet, replace some of it with something the crowd can actually enjoy, like a quick audience game. A “bring me” segment. Anything that gets people laughing instead of checking the time.
3. The endless acknowledgments.
This is the politician problem’s cousin. Before a guest gets to whatever point they came to make, they first have to greet every known person in the room. To the honorable this, to our beloved that, to the ever-supportive so-and-so. I understand it’s a respect thing, and in our culture that matters. But it drags. A warm greeting to everyone, and then please, get to it.
4. Corporate awards by batch, not one by one.
When there are sponsors to thank, thank them. But calling them to the stage one at a time, sash by sash, photo op by photo op, especially when there’s a long list, turns into its own mini-program. Call them by batch. Contestant number one, then five sponsors come up together, pin the sashes, take the photo, done. Everyone still gets their moment. We just don’t spend half the night on it.
5. Lights and sound: clear, not loud.
Loud is not the same as good. We don’t want our ears ringing, we want sound that’s clean and clear enough to actually understand. Crank the volume all you want, if it’s muddy, it’s still bad.
And the lights, please. For us photographers this is a big one. Please don’t let green and magenta lights blink and blink randomly across the stage. When they land on a subject’s skin, the photos are ruined, and no amount of editing fully saves them. Give us a spotlight if you have one, or at least a neutral light on the people on stage. The colored mood lights are great, just keep them on the sides as accents, not splashed across the faces we’re trying to capture.
6. Easy on the haze. We’re not in a vape room.
A little fog sets a nice mood. A lot of it swallows the whole stage and everyone on it. When the smoke is so thick the subjects disappear into a cloud, the photos suffer and the front rows start coughing. We came for a show, not a smoke break.
7. Singers, please know your song.
During intermission numbers, I keep seeing performers reading the lyrics off their phones while they sing. Scrolling mid-verse. Here’s a genuine question: anyare??? Before smartphones, singers memorized their songs. The phone wasn’t there to lean on, so they learned the words. If you’re going up on that stage for a number, know your song. The crowd can tell.
8. Let the hosts read the criteria.
You don’t need to bring up another person just to read the criteria for judging. That’s one more introduction, one more transition, one more stretch of dead time. The emcees are already up there. Let them read it, quick and clean, and if there’s an LED screen, flash the criteria on it while they do. Everyone gets the information, nobody loses five minutes.
9. First runner-up is not first place.
This one I’ll end on because it actually matters. The winner usually gets the correct title. But then the next placer gets called the “first placer,” and sometimes the sash itself even says it, when that’s not what the title is. If someone already won, the one who places after them is the first runner-up, not the first placer. The FIRST PLACER is THE WINNER. It’s a matter of knowing what the words actually mean. And getting it wrong on the biggest night of someone’s life, printed on a sash for everyone to see, after all that preparation, is a real letdown. Say it right, print it right. The person on that stage earned the correct title.
So that’s my list. And before anyone says it, yes, I know I’m not perfect either. Even I have my blunders behind the lens. A missed shot, a frame that came out soft, a moment I didn’t catch in time. I’m always willing to hear constructive criticism about my own work, so it’s only fair that I put my own opinions out here too.
Because that’s all these are: my opinions. I’m not claiming to have the final word on how events should run. I’d genuinely love to hear the other side. Maybe there are reasons behind some of these things that I’m not seeing from the pit. None of this is to say our organizers aren’t working hard, because they are, and these events don’t come together by accident. I’m saying it because I want our events to keep getting better, the kind people remember for the right reasons.
What about you? What’s on your list? I know I’m not the only one with a few of these in my head. Drop yours in the comments.
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