So I'm sitting here at work, minding my own business, and an attractive female wanders in front of the desk. At the same time, a older man, her senior by at least four years of age, walks in the opposite direction. As they pass, this gent literally turns his head as he continues strolling, staring directly at her lower half. It’s actions like these that give my gender the reputation we have.
I’ve been thinking a lot about sex/gender. Last semester I was called out by the faculty advisor for not writing about female artists enough. The article in question was a gauntlet of sorts on five different poetry books. It was thrown together last minute, filled with books I had recently perused or could speed through quickly, and no, none of the poets were female (though one was S√he by Saul Williams, a collection of female centered poetry, though written by a man). I was a bit upset, but the fact is that she had a point. I am lacking in female artistry works.
I have since started a weekly three musician review per week in the paper and I’ve made sure to include at least one female per week. This is actually becoming a difficult task for me, as I’m finding it harder (not hard, just harder) to pick out female artists from my library of music. I cross my fingers and hope that this has to due with the industry and the simple fact that there are more male musicians than female. I know there are a lot of females in the biz, and I would like to hear from more.
On that note, I’m not an Ani DiFranco fan. Just not really my style. “Untouchable Face” is a great song, mainly because of memories I have tied to it. Beyond that, I just can’t get into her stuff.
Also, the Vagina Monologues are coming up on campus. Now, I support the Monologues, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t find them to be especially powerful. It’s a mixture of comedic and absolutely tragic accounts of female struggles. Somehow, hearing this is supposed to further the feminist cause. I know that I’m a male and that I can’t understand what it’s like to be a woman, I just don’t see this as what it’s advertised as. I have a feeling one gets more out of being a part of the Monologues than merely seeing them. That makes sense to me.
The paper ran an article on this production as our lead story this week. I have major issues with some of the things that were said. One quote from a student here states, “The men who are most comfortable with themselves and their own sexuality really enjoy the show.” This seems to insinuate that any man who doesn’t enjoy the show doesn’t know themselves as may not have a grasp on their own sexuality. I went last year and enjoyed my time, I can’t lie. But as I said, it didn’t move me. I didn’t feel more empowered or that I needed to fight harder afterwards. I am also very comfortable with myself and my sexuality. Even if this quote doesn’t necessarily apply to me, I still have issues with it. It’s a blanket statement that takes little more than the feminist perspective into view.
I consider myself a feminist just as much as I consider myself an equal rights activist for race, sexual orientation, class, and any other issue. I promote and will gladly fight for equality amongst all people of this planet. It’s the strictness, the anger in some extreme feminists, as well as activists in other fields, that makes me step back and reevaluate the situation. These people (I wouldn’t consider the owner of the above mentioned quotes an extremist, for the record) seem to alienate anyone who isn’t fighting as passionately, loudly, and publicly as they are, regardless of the other’s beliefs.
I am a feminist, but I won’t fight any harder for feminist rights than I will for gay, minority, lower-class, immigrant, environmental, or animal rights. That doesn’t mean I won’t fight, because I will. I simply refuse to step beyond the line of rational movement into the realm of extremism. It’s proven in the past to be nothing by detrimental.
I miss fighting. My poetry class this week had a short conversation about how, back in the 60s, students were in the streets protesting and making their voices heard. This attitude seems to be lacking my generation, replaced by a glaze of apathy and disregard. I want to fight. I want to march down streets and scream for an end to war and genocide and classism and all other -isms. I don’t want to slip into the irrational radicalism I just spoke against, I just want to make my voice known. My generation seems to be missing a lens to focus us. We have more and more issues arising every day and I have a feeling we don’t know where to begin in speaking out against them. I get tempted to stop my studies and take a year to become an activist, hitting the illnesses I see in our society and finding ways to combat them. Realistically, I don’t see this happening for the same reasons that plague all of my generation. I want to fight, I just don’t see how to work it. The rebel, the screamer, the rioter in me wants out.
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3 comments:
Reading this got me thinking, which was the point, I'm sure. Here are my thoughts:
"The rebel, the screamer, the rioter" in me wants out too, but I'm coming to terms with the fact that I can't fight every fight. Which is why I've become increasingly aware of environmental issues. It's the battle I've chosen to fight. For those other battles, I leave my friends in charge.
Additionally, sometimes, as you hinted at, getting too extreme and riotous is a bad thing. I've been embracing subtle forms of subversive activities. In order for social change to happen, one must make it easier for the majority to change than for them to stay the same.
I agree! I didn't like Liz's statement, either. Also - don't tell anyone - I don't really like Ani DiFranco.
I feel like we get so involved in the Monologues that we forget that the connection (which is tenuous to begin with) isn't very clear.
As one KMangan said, he's just not that into the show, but it doesn't mean that he's anti-women or anything.
I'll fight alongside you.
Hm... apparently having gmail automatically means I have blogger too. Interesting.
I thought what you said about the V-logs not being especially powerful was right on track... that one gets more out of participating than watching. I felt that way as well. I've gone twice and the only powerful moment I felt really was as a freshman, and it came at the end when one of the actors asked members of the audience to stand up if they knew a woman who'd been abused or if they themselves had been abused. I remained firmly planted in my seat, mostly from denial and residual shame, but my boyfriend (at the time) stood up for me. I cried.
I guess, I don't know. People have always asked me why I don't get involved. I donate something to be auctioned every year and at present, that's all I feel comfortable doing. Because when I reached out and tried to get help, no one helped me. At the time when I looked into Waypoint, I was told that just feeling afraid wasn't proof enough of abuse, wasn't proof enough to get a no-contact order, that because there was no marks on me there was really nothing that could be done. I lived in fear for a long time, and I always want to ask feminists, where was my help? When I fell somewhere in the middle, where was my help? And by putting on a play, how are you really helping women like me? Women who feel afraid, who have been threatened with violence, who have been made to feel that she is guilty of uncontrollable circumstances, who have been stalked, who have been afraid to even go anywhere on campus because there was no protection and inadequate locks on doors. Maybe the V-logs makes the participants feel better, like they have a cause, but I know when it crops up every year, I can't help but feel a little twinge of resentment before I file away the memory entirely and resort to complete indifference.
So that's my honesty for today.
-meagan
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