Women and Theatre

Here are the Holidays. These days we are constantly being reminded to be thankful for what we have and for our close friends and families, and to be aware and thoughtful of those less fortunate than us. Well, I’d like to use this, my last blog posting for the semester, to discuss what I’m thankful for in terms of women and theatre. The course of this semester has brought me to a greater understanding of how women in the business of show (that is, theatre) act and react to one another. I have read and thought about arguments between women theatre artists, playwrights, actresses, and historians, and have come to a rather simple conclusion: we’re all in theatre to say something. My final question of all that I’ve raised this semester is this: what are we trying to say?

I really think that what women in the theatre are trying to say that we count, too. Whether the woman in question is a playwright, theorist, or standard spectator, we’ve had a lot of firsts already, and it’s high time that we be included in the masses. Of course, I’m not advocating for complete submergence into the theatre culture to where we become mere atoms in the theatre universe. Rather, being counted means to be accepted as equals, just as in the rest of the world. As women, we are fully capable of holding arguments with one another that don’t necessarily result in bitchy catfights (an example of an exception would be the lovely words exchanged between Sue-Ellen Case and Holly Hughes) and unnoticed work. The women who have come before us have demonstrated their enormous talent, but it, for some reason, has to have its validity questioned by the men of the canon in order to be considered good, even mediocre. It’s unnecessary proverbial red tape that is blocking women from being counted, and should be discarded.

I’m thankful for the fact that I get to be among this changing of the guard in terms of theatre. I am seeing further advances being made, as well as learning the pasts of the women who have come before me. I am extraordinarily grateful that I am more aware of women writers, because I know that there is something to be said for them, and that is this: despite what the established canon thinks, these women, to me, have a kind of creative genius in them that millennia of men have only been able to dream of and it scares them. These women know themselves and their peers; they probably write men better than men can. An unidentifiable number of men have been trying to write women for at least as long as there have been cave drawings, and they can barely get it right, bless their hearts. I’m thankful that I have a place in the theatre, and that today I am accepted based upon my merit and only a little bit by my gender. To the women whom we have studied this semester: Thank you for helping me to understand that I, too, can be counted among theatre artists. Thank you for writing and performing; for debating over what is right, universal, and canonical; for not giving a damn about what your male peers will say and writing for and about women; for being an agent of change; and for teaching me that I do not belong to the hegemonic ideal of theatre. I’m a woman, I’m different, and sometimes everyone around me should really just accept that, and maybe listen to what I have to say; because what I have to say is damn important.
Cheers,
Patsy

Sex Segregation and Porn Stars: A Two-Part Blog

My blog this week is a two-parter: the first is about sex segregation, and the second is about an interview on Oprah I saw this week.

Part One:
“The basic premise is that boys and girls learn in different ways. Separating classes by sex provides an environment in which boys and girls can be taught in the way which best suits their gender.” I found this statement in the opinion section of The Daily Reveille on Monday, November 23rd, and found so many things disturbing about the article entitled “Is sex segregation actually progress for our schools?” The article explains that the American Civil Liberties Union has filed a lawsuit against the Vermillion Parish School Board. Apparently, the parish has deemed that the segregation of sexes in the classroom is actually a good thing, and that it encourages this practice amongst its students, despite the fact that the students have the option of choosing to be segregated based on their sex. When did public schools go backward in their teaching methods? I can remember being in middle school and wanting to do better than everyone, no matter their gender, but I certainly didn’t want to be separated from the boys to advance myself.

From what I can gather from the Reveille article, the argument in favor of sex segregation is thus: because boys and girls learn differently, separating them based on their sex, not their educational merit, will help them to learn better and at their own pace. I fear that this argument only encourages the “boys versus girls” mentality that we’ve all been engaged in since preschool, and which we’ve striven to eliminate for years. Isn’t it mentally healthy for male and female students to learn in the same environments, as each gender can gain something from the other? I can’t seem to understand why a public school system would actually want to separate the genders in the classroom. The cynical part of me would say that the school board believes that boys learn faster than girls, and separating the two genders allows for the boys classes to be taught at a faster pace, leaving the girls in the dust and thinking that they are actually less-than competitive in a man’s world. I am not consoled by the article’s statement that the advocation for sex segregation is “based on a set of stereotypes of what an average boy or girl is interested in and how he or she should best be taught.” Can Vermillion Parish please go back and look at the immense progress women have made in being taught the same subjects as men?

Part Two:
I was watching Oprah this week and her guest was ex-porn star Jenna Jameson. Oprah had Jenna on the show to talk about her career in the adult entertainment industry and how she is now retired, and living as a wife and mother. Jameson’s articulate answers to Oprah’s questions gave me a new light on which to look at her. Jameson explained that while she was in the industry, she wanted to beautify the content and make it more real for the viewer, giving them a more visceral experience. When asked how many partners she’d been with, Jenna explained that she never wanted to be intimate with more than 5 men in her entire career, and I found that absolutely shocking considering the amount of films that she had made. She’s the world’s most recognizable “porn star,” and she stated, very matter-of-factly, that her partner in the majority of her films was her husband.

Now that Jenna is retired, she is a mother to two boys, both of a younger than toddler age. Oprah addressed the fact that one day Jenna will have to answer her boys’ questions regarding their mommy’s old job as a sex symbol. Teary-eyed, Jameson stated that she only wants her boys to look at her as a loving mother who made a career for herself, being very in-control of her status. She doesn’t want her boys to think of her as a slut or a whore, but rather as an unconventional businesswoman. I found this to be completely admirable. For a woman to be in such a position of power in the adult industry, Jameson was, and is, certainly at the top of her game.

Cheers,
Patsy

Rape Warfare and "Ruined"

I have studied the issues surrounding warfare in the Democratic Republic of Congo for some time now. Going into the reading of Nottage’s play, Ruined, I was not unaware of the concept of “ruined women” and “genetically mutilated” women. I dare say that many of us in the class are aware, or have heard of this phenomenon that is sweeping war-stricken Africa, and I also will venture to say that those of who are aware of this assault against women have something to say about it. My questions of late are these: when did women’s bodies become the battlegrounds on which men fight their wars? How many women will these monstrous assailants attack and mutilate until they are satisfied?

“Rape as an instrument of warfare.” These are scary words for anyone to hear, and it’s even scarier for those women who are directly affected by it; the raped women, the ruined women. In combination with my fear for these women and for their future, I am also deeply saddened. I am overcome with sadness and despair, despite the notion that Nottage’s Ruined gave me something to smile about; the final scene gives hope. (While I was reading the play, I couldn’t help but remember the portions of Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues which deal with female mutilation and rape warfare. However, Ensler’s input comes mainly from what she calls a “Vagina Fact,” a segment in The Vagina Monologues giving facts about genital mutilation. ) However, the entire play leading up to the final scene is full of sadness, which lets you know that it’s real. This stuff is really happening, and we only remember it when we read about it or when it’s in the news. How is this not a concept that is forever in our minds as women? Do we even know if mutilation and “female circumcision” is a phenomenon occurring in America right now? I, for one, have no clue if its happening in our own backyard, and I’m worried. Frankly, I think that our minimal fund of knowledge about these women in Africa, or lack of publicizing it at the very least, is a bit irresponsible. There are those around me who say that publicizing these acts would only be representative of Americans trying to put our nose into everything anyone else is doing (similar to other situations into which we have gotten ourselves), and that we should just stay out of it and focus on what’s at hand. These are women who are telling me to keep quiet and to mind my own business! Excuse me, but no!

It’s a scary thought to carry around with someone. To think that there are current generations of women and girls waiting to be raped and then to be used, abused, and then thrown away to die is horrifying. The idea of spreading information about these crimes against women is not lost on me, nor is it put to the side by other women who have come before me. Plays like Ruined need to be produced en masse for further education, in my opinion. It’s not the only way that this education can be spread, but it’s a damn good start. The ones most likely to take action are those who are actively pursuing attending artistic functions, like the theatre, and these activists are the ones who get things done. I thoroughly hope and believe that there will be a point in my life where the “ruined” women will be safe once again, and not have to worry about when her next predator is going to walk through the door.

Cheers,
Patsy

Histories and Herstories

I was particularly nervous about writing my history piece; mostly because I had no idea where to begin the story. My first drafts were about my family, and while they serve their purposes in regards to my history, they weren’t the ones living it, and so I had to rewrite the entire piece to be about myself. This is where the hard thinking came in. How do I write about my past, when I can’t remember some of it, or it wasn’t that significant to perform, and how, then, do I incorporate elements of gender and sexuality? The answer came to me as I was walking through CVS. In thinking about how I have varied my views on gender and sexuality, I remembered our class talking about stereotypes, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Softball has to be the most sexually-stereotyped sport for females, followed only by basketball. I’ve played both, often during the same year but in each other’s off season, and I am quite familiar with the stereotypes associated with each. Softball seemed to hold more weight for me, though.

So I began thinking during our presentations what it must have been like for each of us to define our own sexuality and gender. Watching Alex give his presentation was interesting, as he had to come up with his own view without any assistance growing up. It struck a chord with me. I was fortunate enough to grow up with a mom and a sister telling me how to act like a lady, but I also had a dad to teach me how to be different with it; how to be a different kind of woman. Nichole’s slide show had a different tune to it, though. When she began with the slides of pinup women in “womanly” professions, I was a little put-off, thinking that it really used to be like this. Women really did have to submit to being either a teacher, a housewife, or a secretary and be at the whim of the man in control. I think that the choice to “teach” us that her own theatre teacher was different was a good segue. I don’t remember having many male teachers growing up, and that influenced me a little into thinking that teaching was, in fact, a woman’s profession. How, then, was it to change, and who was to do so? Nichole’s teacher obviously proved to her that teachers come of any gender, and that we, ourselves can be teachers, even without a classroom.

Returning to theatre, though, makes me think of Rebecca’s reading of her diary to us. Frankly, keeping a diary has always been a personal interest of mine, and listening to Rebecca read aloud from hers was a delight. I particularly enjoyed watching her tell her story of how theatre got her through one of the worst times in her life, and to have that written down is even more extraordinary. What stands out to me, though, is the fact that she played Lady Macbeth, a notoriously bitchy role, and it was fun to think of her playing that character. I wonder what that meant to her and her own definition of gender. Did playing “Lady Macbitch” aide her in re-defining her concept of the powerful woman and how that woman can get through her own particular tragedy? And then there’s Rosa; Rosa with her wooden statues marking her progression through her dance years. At first, I was a little scared by the statues. Listening to her defense of them however, made more sense than them just being creepy wooden dolls. She became the woman that she is through her dance training, and that, to me is significant. She played the dancing girl role well, and I was the ball player, which brought me to the conclusion that we are all products of our environment, as we are all rather aware, and it is that which shapes us into the people we are today.

Cheers,
Patsy

My Mom is Obsessed

I want to talk about my mother and the fact that she has become completely obsessed with her body image. First, in order to fully explain this phenomenon, I have to give a little backstory: My parents have been married for 23 years, albeit sometimes unhappily, and my mother had three kids. In that time span, she has constantly had a struggle with her weight, and countless doctors have told her to lose the extra poundage she’d gained.

This past March, my father had hip surgery, and my mother’s nervous system went into shock. Constantly fretting over dear ole dad, she didn’t eat, drank as much Raspberry Ice-flavored Crystal Light as she could get her hands on, and was running up and down two flights of stairs tending to my dad dozens of times a day. Now, how do you think this kind of activity affects a 55 year-old woman’s body? Exactly; she dropped her extra weight like it was no big deal. First it was a few pounds here and there, then she couldn’t fit into her old jeans anymore, and then, the best part of this story, is that her diabetes even started to show signs of backing off. She called me about a week ago to tell me that she now fits into a size 6 in Old Navy skinny jeans. Skinny Jeans on a 55 year-old mother of three!! How does this happen?

My father has since recovered quite nicely from his hip surgery, but mom has finally learned how to dramatically change her lifestyle in order to keep up with dad, who began to change the status of his health many years ago, about when he hit 50. Mom and dad then showed me that they achieved the impossible: they went on a two-week trip for their anniversary-didn’t want to kill each other- and managed to not take two naps in one day. Because they changed their health patterns, they were able to see and do more during the day.

I have a point, I promise, and it is this: Instead of surgically altering her body, my mother has managed to look youthful just by having the day-to-day stress of taking care of my father after surgery. Most people would say that the stress would cause her to look more haggard and aged, but somehow, the woman has, once again, defied convention and improved her appearance. She managed to achieve a youthful appearance without Botox injections, pilates, or extreme fasting. I commend her on her improvement in physical appearance and inner feelings on life now, as she seems happy with herself, to say nothing of the fact that she’s proud of accomplishing that which has burdened her for years.

How, then, can we learn from my mother? I really don’t think it would be wise to allow ourselves to get to the extreme that my mother was, then have a significant other go under the knife and stress us out, no. Rather, let’s start taking care of ourselves now while we still have the wherewithal to do so. Let’s fight Breast Cancer, obesity, heart disease, and diabetes-all conditions that so readily affect women more often than men. Let’s prevent our bones from depleting and dissolving away. Let’s obsess about our body image, not from the outside, but from within. The outside appearance will come in time, but we have to work from the inside out first. We have to know and be aware of what’s happening inside us in order to fully understand how the outside is going to change. From that, we can be like my mom: happy with who we are.

Cheers,
Patsy

Behind-The-Scenes Antigone

As the stage manager for Antigone, I was fortunate enough to see what happens behind the scenes. From the whole process, I feel as if I’ve managed to collect enough opinion, fact, and speculation to put together my own conjecture of the play from a purely textual context, as well as one from the hour and fifteen minute production itself. Michael Tick, our most esteemed director, put together the concept of placing Antigone in a punk world based upon the notion that the punk mentality could easily translate to any era where there is dissention and secession from those in authority. I believe that Tick has a point to be made here. Throughout the world, even today, we can see evidence of unjust punishment of individuals who stand up for what they believe in, despite laws set forth by the ruling party. It begs the question: what, then, is “just”? How do we define justice as it applies to an entire population, and how is it to be enforced?

In the case of Antigone, Creon punishes his own niece for burying her brother whom Creon said should be left unburied due to his traitorous acts. If we are to conjecture an answer to the question of what is just based on a punk mentality, the answer is that Antigone did exactly what a punk would do, which is, to defy authority, consequences be damned. Now the case of Creon as a punk creeps upon us. Tick felt, and justified, that in any society, specifically punk, there is a group of anti-establishment individuals. Within that group, however, is always a hierarchy and Creon represents that social standing within the stratification in our punk world. In my opinion, the choice to make Creon a punk is validated by the history within the play. Those familiar with Oedipus Rex know that Creon helped to save the city from destruction by discovering that Oedipus was the cause of the sweeping ailment. If we are to suppose that Thebes has always been punk, then it only makes sense that Creon would maintain his punk sense of style, in the very least, in his ascension to the throne as ruler. It is logical that his newly acquired status would have him change his mind about anarchy and dissention from the law. He understands that if he allows such behavior from his people, then his throne could be taken away the same way that Creon usurped Oedipus. From this knowledge, he then strives to ensure that his kingdom is under his thumb.

To what limits, then are we subjected when our own family defies our wishes? In Creon’s case, he not only had Antigone, his niece, marching to a different drum, but his own son, Haemon, was siding with Antigone. There have been many discussions, at least in rehearsal, about how Creon is to treat Haemon’s disloyalty towards his father and loyalty towards his fiancée. A ruler’s own flesh and blood, traditionally sides with his own, but for Creon to have to deal with his son, who isn’t as defiant at first, then becomes more outspoken and threatening, was a huge hurdle to jump. I believe that our production was successful in showing Haemon’s attempts at undermining Creon’s decree by siding with him at first, then switching sides. I think that it shows an interesting dynamic that parlays easily into the punk mentality. The audience sees an enraged son trying to maintain calm in the face of authority (especially since it’s his father), yet is waiting for the moment onstage where Haemon would reach his breaking point and we would finally see the inner anarchist emerge.

With the chorus’ help, I believe that Antigone in the punk world works and translates well. A disclaimer, however- for those who haven’t seen the production yet- is that it’s not punk rock, it’s just punk. There is a difference, in that the production isn’t about the music, which will become quite evident. Rather, it’s about the mentality of the punks itself, and the mentality is the masks that they wear to portray what’s happening. Audiences shouldn’t go into the show expecting it to be filled with 70’s/80’s punk music. Instead, they should go in armed with the mentality that this is a Greek tragedy, and sometimes it’s all about the masks.

Cheers,
Patsy

Will & Jack or Ellen & Rosie?

How does the media displace our attention in identifying who qualifies as “gay” or “lesbian?” My answer to this question lies in television shows like “Will & Grace” and “The Ellen DeGeneres Show.” We’ve all fallen victim, myself included, to the wonderfully crafted idea that characters like Will and Jack and people such as Ellen are the common, everyday gay man or lesbian, when we actually know that this is false. Thanks to sitcoms like “Will & Grace,” our common idea of what it means to be gay is presented by the two extremes of Will and Jack. Will, being the rather subdued extreme, almost conservative in his actions, and Jack holds the title of “flaming queen.” Here is the arc, gay men of the world; now conform to one of the two. I feel that this is what sitcom creators are trying to say to us that watch the show, and, frankly, it’s a little uncomfortable to watch these stereotypes played out on cable television. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy the Jack’s jazz hands and Will’s perfect ironic timing as much as the next girl, but I also know for a fact that Jack and Will can’t possibly represent the be all and end all image of gay men in the world.

Now I’d like to move on to my favorite talk show host, Ellen DeGeneres. I love her. I love what she does and represents, I think that all of her philanthropic causes are just, and I even think that she’s better than Oprah in terms of her mass appeal. With Ellen, though, I find there to be some confusion about her presentation to the public. Let’s take a step back and compare her to another lesbian talk show host, Rosie O’Donnell. If Rosie were to represent a certain type of lesbian image, I’d say that she was more on the “butch” side. Ellen, in comparison, seems to be taking the same route in her personal imagery, mostly by the way she dresses. What I find confusing here, is that I don’t know exactly what Ellen is representing. Is she attempting to appeal to lesbians of the world by being the “everylesbian?” If this is, in fact, her ultimate goal, then all confusion, for me, has just been cleared. If, however, Ellen is going for a different kind of appeal, then I’m going to have to do some more watching (as if I don’t watch it enough-almost religiously) and figure her out more.

My point here is that those of us who identify as “straight” unfortunately have a lot of our ideas about gay men and lesbians shaped by the media; specifically, by television. I have fallen victim to this ploy of TV writers and have gone on the hunt for my “Will” or my “Ellen,” and have found that the gays and lesbians that I meet, love, and adore, fall nowhere under the umbrella that has been cast by ABC, NBC, or CBS. In fact, the “Wills” and “Ellens” in my life have turned out to be equal parts “Will” and Jack” or “Rosie” and “Ellen” (I understand that happy mediums can sometimes be detrimental, but my life is full of such happy mediums). Here is what I propose should be done to fix this situation: challenge what is and has always been done! It has occurred to me that TV writers are sticking to this molded idea of what qualifies as TV-appropriate gay men and lesbians, and thus the rest of us are shielded once more from what exists outside the world of the studio audience, unless we attempt to find our own version of what’s on TV, and find that there is more to know and love.

Cheers,
Patsy

Breast Cancer and Larry Kramer

October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Okay, let’s talk about that and its relation to AIDS in Larry Kramer’s The Normal Heart. Breast Cancer is striking women and men constantly, and there’s so much media attention telling them to go get checked annually, do self breast exams at home, and always be aware of the symptoms of this horrifying condition. Thinking about this kind of attention that Breast Cancer is getting, I can’t help but wonder what America would be like if Breast Cancer got no more attention than AIDS did in the early years. What if women today were ignored and mistreated just because they had Breast Cancer? Imagine The Normal Heart but with Breast Cancer instead of AIDS. It’s a little hard for me to comprehend due to the fact that Breast Cancer has so much attention surrounding it. I like to think that if this were the case, that Breast Cancer got almost no attention and was ignored in the public eye, there would be uprisings and demonstrations and radical groups fighting the American Medical Association for more research to be done. The groups would be marching on Washington for federal funding to find a cure, or to at least find ways to prevent it from happening to innocent people.

While I was reading The Normal Heart, I couldn’t stop being outraged at the characters like the Mayor and Hiram, figures in power, that were doing next to nothing to help members of their community, whether or not they were gay themselves. On top of this surface anger, I was also astounded by Bruce’s character who, to me, wanted to pretend that if he ignored this disease affecting the men in his life, it would all go away. It’s absurd. I found Bruce to be arrogant and unappreciative of the work that Ned and the rest of the group were doing to try and help, potentially save, the men in their lives. I wonder how Kramer could stand it. It had to be painful to watch his closest friends not care as much as he did about getting attention.

Put Breast Cancer in the same situation, and think about the amount of public outcry there would have been if there wasn’t the funding, knowledge, and awareness that we have now. Breast Cancer seems almost less preventable than AIDS, yet there is more awareness and media attention than AIDS ever got. The general public is knowledgeable of Breast Cancer and its symptoms, whereas AIDS is trickier. Where Breast Cancer is easily detectable and curable, AIDS can lurk in the body for years before ever making an appearance if it goes unchecked by a physician. What if Breast Cancer worked the same way? Imagine Breast Cancer in its early days: women dying left and right due to some unknown and virtually undetectable disease, and by the time it is detected, the clock has already started ticking, and there isn’t much time left. How did Breast Cancer get the attention it has now, and AIDS had to go through so much trial and error? My speculation is that Breast Cancer seems to mostly affect women, despite their sexuality, and AIDS at its onset was mostly affecting gay men. Here’s my next question: how can the American Medical Association, the Center for Disease Control, and the Federal Government pick and choose which ailments to advocate for more when both AIDS and Breast Cancer affect men and women of any sexuality? This is where they went wrong. I’ve come to the conclusion that it shouldn’t have mattered what sexuality these patients leaned towards, but that both types of patients were dying at an alarming rate, and AIDS got the short end of the stick. Today we see hundreds of advertisements about Breast Cancer awareness, especially during October. During December, which is AIDS awareness month, however, I fail to see much advocacy. Somehow this needs to change, and awareness needs to be equal.

Cheers,
Patsy

Daytime Talk Shows

My Issue with Daytime Talk Shows.
I like daytime talk-shows purely for the entertainment value that they provide so that I’m not reduced to watching overdone soap operas with recycled actors. That’s another story. With daytime talk shows, however, I get all the juicy celebrity gossip I need plus fifteen different recipes that can be made ahead of time that feed a family of five. But, wait. The rest of my family of five lives in another state. Can I still make these recipes? What about the family-fun arts and crafts specifically designed to get your kids ready for Halloween? I don’t have any kids, but can I still make the masks out of Popsicle sticks?

I’ve begun to recognize that the segments in these shows are becoming more and more oriented towards women with families who watch these programs. My latest talk-show craze, Rachael Ray, has, for the past two days, had on actresses with at least two kids apiece. The question inevitably comes up “How do you manage to have time for your family?” or the comment “And at the end of the day you go home to your family and kids.” What? Where is the juicy gossip that feeds my superficial need, Rachael? I realize that Rachael is a delight amongst many housewives and moms thanks to her 30-minute meals, but why is it necessary to always have a guest on the show who proudly wears her “mom hat?” I can remember growing up, before I started school, and watching daytime talk-shows with my mother, a stay-at-home mom. The shows we watched, like Rosie O’Donnell, Christopher Lowell, and Access Hollywood all contained what is now referred to as “mindless drivel,” were specifically targeted at viewers who weren’t necessarily family-motivated, and I loved it. Now the same type of shows are focused on keeping the family together and they seem to be forgetting that a large part of their demographic are single, unattached women, like myself. I don’t have a family, and I don’t often cook for five people, so how about focusing more on women like that, talk-shows?

Once concession, though. There was a show on, years ago, called “The Modern Girl’s Guide to Life.” It featured five women, three of whom were single and without families, and consisted of all kinds of information that a modern girl (read: single, unattached) should know in order to survive. This was a great show, and in my early to mid-teens I soaked up all kinds of information from that program, which has fortunately carried through to my early adult life. My next question is this, then: where are those kinds of programs now? I’ve already said that Rachael Ray has “fallen by the wayside” and targets her shows to the demographic of moms and housewives, but I’ve noticed that “The View” has gotten worse about it. (“The View” has always been a beef of mine, mostly because a few of the hosts are very close-minded, and somehow direct every conversation into politics.) Now one particular host, Elizabeth Hasselbeck, has gone so family-crazy it seems that she’s completely forgotten about the fact that some of her co-hosts are still not married or with kids. Hasselbeck disregards the single women in the audience and appears to me totally cloistered in her new role as mother, alienating all those whom she used to regard as equals. She’s not the only host to do this. Hosts who also happen to be moms cater their material to moms and families, as if what they’re presenting at 10:00am, be it ways to de-stress kids or money management, will be remembered at 3pm when the kids come home. All I’m asking for is just a little more attention to the single women out in daytime tv land. Remember, moms: you were once single, too.

Cheers,
Patsy

Feminism is NOT a Four-Letter Word.

Feminism as the F-word.

Tell me why the word “feminism” has such a bad connotation? Is it because when the average person thinks of “feminism,” said person almost automatically responds with the reaction that the “feminist” they are talking to is more than likely a ball-busting-man-hating-she-dog who burns her bras and doesn’t practice personal hygiene? This is a question that has bothered me for about as long as I’ve been advocating for my rights as a woman in my own, personal life. I don’t know why men (I say “men” because this is typically the demographic that reacts in the above fashion) respond to my feminism in a similar way that they would if I was a leper.
When did feminism become a four-letter word? Did it happen at the turn of the 20th century circa women’s suffrage? Maybe it came to pass that feminism was an evil conspiracy against men during the second wave, when women were breaking out from under the patriarchal thumb of society and leaving the kitchen to go out into the world. Acceptance is the first step to understanding, and in the case of women’s rights or feminism or whatever term you choose to employ, understanding is key.

I am a feminist, and have been for several years. I read feminist literature by Elizabeth Wurtzel, Richards and Baumgardner’s collection of essays from Bitch magazine in a book titled Bitchfest, and I wholeheartedly agree and try to live by the manifesta. Does this make me a man-hating-she-dog? No. It means that I feel like I’m educated enough to understand where the animosity towards feminists comes from. In my experience, the negative vibe towards feminists comes from men, who, unfortunately, still feel that men are on top of the chain of command, and are reluctant to share, equally, their power in society. Those of whom I speak like the patriarchal society in which this country predominantly lives, and are fearful of losing their place. The status that men in power in this society enjoy likens back to the playground, singing “I’m the king of the castle and you’re the dirty rascal.” This translates back to today and refers to the feeling of empowerment that men share at the top, because they worked hard to get where they are. But what happens when a woman works just as hard, and manages to get her foot in the door of the castle at the top of the playground? An inquiry as to her abilities and judgment goes into session, makes national news for a few weeks, only to come to the conclusion that was known all along: that the woman in question is just as qualified as the man.

It is a brilliant work of liberal feminism here. A woman strives for equality with men, but finds resistance from the opposition, and only after much determination on the part of the woman does she gain access to the boys’ club. It’s not too much to ask for a bit of equality, especially when it comes to politics, is it? Feminists of all degrees can work as hard as we can to gain so little; and for men to provide only resistance, the goal of equality is further out of reach. It takes an understanding of where women are coming from and a disposal of the negative connotation of the word “feminist” in order for us, as women, as people, to gain what we truly desire. I feel that feminism should be a positive thing in the eyes of society, and that it is up to both sexes to maintain whatever equality we manage to achieve.

Cheers,
Patsy

'Night, Mother and Dysfunctional Relationships

I’d like to make a few comments on the play ‘Night, Mother.

I first began to notice that the relationship between Jessie and Mama was strangely unhealthy when the following exchange occurred:
Mama: “You don’t have to take care of me, Jessie.”
Jessie: “I know that. You’ve just been letting me do it so I’ll have something to do, haven’t you?”
Mama: “I don’t do it as well as you. I just meant if it tires you out or makes you feel used…” (1316)
We have, once again, an example of what appears to be a symbiotic relationship between mother and daughter up until this point. However, when I put Mainardi’s tools to work here, there is the key phrase of “I don’t do it as well as you” put into play, making Mama the parasite. She, much like Mainardi’s fictional husband-type, has been sucking away at Jessie’s hard work, and Jessie knows exactly what is happening. In her own way, Jessie is cutting Mama off from the niceties that she (Mama) has become accustomed to. Jessie is not asking Mama to take on some of the workload, but she’s merely telling Mama that Jessie just isn’t going to do it anymore, what with her being dead and all, and Mama goes into shock. We see that Mama is two-natured, for lack of a better term. She is the nurturing mother toward an epileptic daughter, but had to be the father figure to Jessie when her father was gone. This example shows how Mama is more male-centric.
However, Mama, being the mother that she is, also reveals that she does have some motherly tendencies during the following exchanges:
Mama: “All right! I wanted you to have a husband.”
Jessie: “And I couldn’t get one on my own, of course.”
Mama: “How were you going to get a husband never opening your mouth to a living soul?. . . I married you off to the wrong man. . . Cecil might be ready to try it again, honey, that happens sometimes. Go downtown. Find him. Talk to him. He didn’t know what he had in you” (1321).
Here, Mama is, for all intents and purposes of her world, doing her job as a mother. She wanted Jessie to live a normal life with a husband and a baby, which she eventually got with Cecil and Ricky, respectively. In a desperate attempt to understand why Jessie would want to kill herself, Mama makes a mistake in thinking that the whole ordeal of Jessie’s suicide is about a man. What I find ironic, however, is that because Mama has more masculine attributes in this relationship, Jessie does, in fact, have a problem with the “man” in her life. Mama is all she has and Jessie knows that this is not enough for her. So, is this a feminist play or a play about a dysfunctional relationship? In my opinion, it’s both. Jessie is a liberated woman by the end of the play, and we know that the relationship is dysfunctional- at least, according to societal norms- due to the fact that Jessie is taking care of her mother, and then abruptly ends her life, thus stopping the care for her mother. I find that the play has another level of “cool things to notice and pick up on” when one reads it thinking of Mama as gender-neutral (I say gender-neutral because of my arguments that Mama has both male and female attributes). Having never read this play before, I find myself wanting to add ‘Night, Mother to my feminist literary canon, and- while probably not holding it on a pedestal- making it a good reference point in the future.

Let's Get Real, Here

Foreward: I am currently taking a class called "Women and Theatre," and, coincidentally, we have to post blogs on our school's forum once a week. I figured I might as well share what my thoughts are with you who happen to a) be women and b) like theatre and c) appreciate both. Here was my post from this last week:

As a studier of people, I particularly enjoy observing how we dress in accordance with what we perceive to be proper for our gender. These observances bring me to one question: Do clothes really make the [wo]man?
In regards to the article by Judith Lorber and her discussion on “doing gender,” I have to wonder if the way we dress falls into this action. Are women subtly re-doing their gender if they should dress more masculine? Are women more “manly” if we wear big tee-shirts and cargo shorts, or do we still hold onto our femininity by fixing our hair just so? When I see women wearing clothes that would typically be considered to be “men’s clothes,” I just happen to think that the woman in question must be awfully comfortable. There doesn’t appear to be anything masculine about her from first glance, and perhaps what she is wearing was the first outfit that happened to be clean that morning.
Why are women who wear men’s (read: comfortable) clothes considered to not be doing right by their gender? I don’t think that women lose any of their femininity by not conforming to these social constraints that women should always be presentable. I think it’s too much to live up to, these norms set forth by our mothers and grandmothers before us. “Dress nicely,” “Don’t slouch,” “Always look your best,” are guidelines that I, at least, was subjected to in my early youth, and frankly, it doesn’t make any sense to me. Okay, maybe the slouching part is reasonable, but the rest of it baffles me. How do I act differently than feminine if I’m not in a skirt and a blouse? I am still doing my gender by existing as a woman. It is not the way I dress that defines who I am as a woman. What should it matter anyway? We’ve been taught since adolescence that “it’s what on the inside that counts.” Shouldn’t that be enough to help us understand and accept what is feminine? I think it’s enough.
So, no, I don’t think that clothes make the woman. We are women by how we are as people. Society should not have the audacity to dictate what classifies as “feminine” by the typical and glamourized images of a well-dressed woman. Take the following for example: I like to watch the red carpet coverage before award shows. Due to an increase in celebrity image, many of the television stations have their “red carpet fashion coverage LIVE” before the award ceremony, and a multitude of hosts interview the nominees and ask them what they’re wearing. What the interviewees are unaware of until the re-airing begins is what the show hosts are saying back at the studio regarding many of the females are wearing. They’re judging what is feminine versus what isn’t, and typically, to me, the more “feminine” and “clean-lined” ensembles look the least comfortable. The hosts use the converses “masculine,” and “frumpy,” to describe the outfits that aren’t as flattering to the feminine shape. I find this strange. There somehow seems to be an understood connection between the words “comfortable” and “masculine,” whereas “comfortable” and “feminine” don’t seem to match up often enough. Why must there be a difference? On the superficial levels of gender distinction, I say let’s start, not blurring the lines per se, but by incorporating more of the similar structures from each gender, and help us all be more comfortable with ourselves.
Some days a woman just wants to be comfortable, and if that means baggy tee-shirts, three-day-old jeans, and no make-up, so be it.

Cheers,
Patsy

Keep it locked up.

I believe all men should be careful with their hearts when around Radford women.

This statement is true, proven, and fact until I find someone or something to disprove it or change it.

That being said, I have one thing to gripe about today: why can't I have any male friends? My next thought is that, while I have many friends of the opposite sex, over 75% of them want to be more, and I just don't. From what I understand, I've always been the "best friend" type, or the girl any guy can go to just to chat with, but in recent observations, things have changed, and I'm pretty sure I'm not so comfortable with that. The last two years I've been the notoriously single girl, and that was just fine with me, but apparently, its not okay with all "my boys."

I don't relationship very well. Truth be told, I usually screw it up with my laissez-faire attitude, because I don't need a relationship and I don't need a man to make me happy. Now the issue to address is to go and make that statement known. Bon soir.

CWS Mayhem

Ok, so my tigers are in Game 2 of thefinals of the CWS, and we're currently getting out behinds handed to us by Texas. I am so not okay with this. curreny 5-2 in favor of the longhorns. dammit!

we're onto our 3rd pitcher, Nolan Cain, who isn't doing a horrible job. In fact all of our pitchers are pitching absolutely great, but its because of that that UTexas is hitting so well. Our non-starting pitchers aren't used to throwing away a few balls in order to prevent offensive scoring.

One of the highlights of the game has to be that Coach Les Miles has been Tweeting the ENTIRE game! Even after his ESPN interview was he on his crackberry tweeting away like that was his job. Myself, I'm not on Twitter, and I don't plan to be, but come on, Coach! Give your boys some love.

Oh Darlin.

Who would have thought that a simple visit from a family member could make someone so happy? I did. When my father drove into my town on Friday night, I immediately knew when he got off the interstate! It's almost disturbing how in touch with each other we are. I've never been so happy as when he called me Saturday morning to ask me to pick him up for breakfast. That man, I'm telling you, has my heart.

The only man a girl can ever trust is her daddy.

Cheers,
Ennui