When Did We Lose Our Decorum?
We have a real problem in our industry.
Somewhere along the way, we have lost much of the decorum and etiquette that once came with presenting a show horse. And increasingly, instead of correcting ourselves, we wait until our behavior becomes so excessive—or so dangerous—that somebody has to write another rule.
Take the new “ride past the cone” rule.
Why was it necessary? Because riders began coming through the entry gate and stopping, creating a roadblock for everyone behind them.
So now we have a rule requiring riders to ride past the cone.
And what do we do?
Ride past the cone and stop there.
Same problem. Different location.
We see it throughout the class. When exhibitors enter and the class is called to order, some sit and wait while other horses make nearly an entire round of the arena, apparently looking to manufacture just the right amount of space. We see the same thing on the reverse—holding back rather than reversing and moving forward with the flow of the class.
There used to be an understanding of how you conducted yourself in a show ring.
You entered and moved on. You maintained the flow of traffic. You reversed and moved on. You were aware of the horses around you. You found your space without expecting the entire ring to create it for you.
You presented your horse while respecting everyone else’s opportunity to present theirs.
That’s ring etiquette.
It shouldn’t require a rule.
And then there are the other things we seem to have stopped teaching—or stopped correcting.
Saddle hunching that in some cases has become downright inappropriate. Riders slumped and contorted over their horses until they resemble sacks of potatoes instead of horsemen presenting show horses. Riders who aren’t taught something as basic as which hand should carry the whip—which, by the way, is the inside.
Individually, these may seem like little things.
Collectively, they tell a bigger story.
We have lowered the standard for how a horse and rider should be presented in the show ring.
And perhaps nothing demonstrates that better than what has become known as the “Billy Gray pass.”
What may have started as an exciting way to present a great horse has evolved into something entirely different.
This isn’t new to this year’s show. It has become progressively more excessive year after year and show after show, and now we see it in seemingly every class—even with our youngest youth riders.
When a class is called to the lineup, judging is over. Exhibitors should make their way to the lineup and wait for the placings.
Instead, getting to the lineup has become a performance of its own.
Riders stop wherever they are and begin positioning themselves for their pass. Horses travel in every direction as exhibitors maneuver toward the opposite end of the arena to set themselves up for that big trip toward the lineup.
Some ride past the entire lineup to get to the far end and come back again.
And in some of our professional classes—where this behavior has become most excessive—it just keeps going.
Make a pass. Ride past the lineup. Circle all the way around. Set up another one.
Meanwhile, someone else is waiting at the opposite end for his opportunity.
Another pass. Another trip around. Another person determined to have the last one.
At some point, this stops being showmanship and becomes a contest for attention.
Sure, a great horse making a great pass can be exciting. It’s a horse show. Entertainment is part of it, and nobody wants to take that away.
But there is a difference between presenting your horse and making yourself the center of the ring.
And remember: the class has already been called.
None of this is being judged.
There is no ribbon to be won with that pass. There is no placing to be changed.
Yet we are creating unnecessary confusion in a ring full of horses for something that has absolutely no bearing on the outcome of the class.
This week, we saw why that matters.
Two riders, each attempting to make their final pass into the lineup, collided. One rider was ejected from her horse.
We should all be incredibly thankful that she was able to walk out of that ring.
It could have ended very differently.
And now I suspect we all know what comes next.
Another rule.
Maybe it will dictate where riders can go once a class is called. Maybe it will tell them which direction they can travel.
Maybe someone will have to draw us a diagram.
But when are we going to stop requiring rules to save us from ourselves?
Because much of the responsibility for this belongs with the professionals.
Our trainers didn’t learn this behavior from the youth riders. The youth riders learned it from them.
So did the amateurs.
When professional trainers make multiple passes, circle through traffic, ride past the lineup and wait for the opportunity to make one more trip down the rail, what exactly do we expect the next generation watching from the rail to believe good showmanship looks like?
We can’t create the behavior and then shake our heads when everyone else copies it.
Being a professional horse trainer comes with more responsibility than getting a horse ready to show and winning ribbons.
Professionals set the standard.
Customers are watching. Amateurs are watching. Kids are watching.
The habits established in our professional classes eventually become the habits we see throughout the show ring.
That means our professionals have a responsibility not just for the horses they put into the ring, but for the culture they create inside it.
And maybe that’s the larger point in all of this.
We spend an enormous amount of time talking about how the outside equine world sees the Tennessee Walking Horse industry. Sometimes our complaints about that perception are completely justified.
But we also have to be willing to look at ourselves.
Not every problem facing this industry comes from Washington.
Not every problem comes from an animal-rights organization.
Not every problem comes from someone who doesn’t understand our breed.
Some of them are ours.
And some of them shouldn’t require a new rule to fix.
We shouldn’t need a rule to teach ring etiquette.
We shouldn’t need an accident to remind us that horses traveling in multiple directions through a crowded arena can be dangerous.
And we shouldn’t have to watch our youngest riders copy our worst habits before we decide it’s time to set a better example.
We know better.
Especially those of us who make our living in this industry.
Maybe it’s time we start acting like it.
Because if we want the rest of the equine world to respect us, perhaps the best place to start is by holding ourselves to a standard worthy of that respect.
~ Carrie Benedict
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