Genderful Summer?

At the end of last semester, I auditioned to be in a directing project one-act play. I did theater throughout high school, and after working in the Macalester Theater and Dance department all year, I decided it was time for me to actually get involved in a performance. So, I tried out, and got in. Despite my high hopes to make it into an absurd play entitled “Soap Opera,” I was cast in the melodramatic and slow “Night, Mother.” There were only two parts in the play – a mother and daughter – and the entire play takes place on a Saturday evening when the daughter decides to commit suicide. The play is pretty much carried entirely on dialogue, as the mother, Thelma, tries to convince her child, Jessie, not to go through with her plan. Intimidating role, right? I had done only one lead in high school, and never been in a play this dramatic. There were a million concerns on my mind about conveying this character correctly when I showed up to the first rehearsal, but one element I had not even considered was ironically the first thing on the director’s agenda.

He opened our practice by stating that he understood the “gender and power dynamic” taking place with this project, and that there was something to be noted about one male director asking two female actresses to be incredibly vulnerable on stage. Admittedly, I hadn’t even given it any thought, and the speech sounded so token private liberal arts college. The only thought that ran through my head was, “yup, I’m at Macalester.” I’m not sure I really bought it. In fact, it made me a little uncomfortable.

As did reading this article in the New York Times a couple weeks ago:

...uhh.....

So, as is expected, I was a little apprehensive about the Anti Oppression discussion we had last Thursday for Summer of Solutions. The theme was gender and sexuality. I’m going to go ahead and make a blog-style confession: I consider myself an ardent feminist, but these conversations make me uneasy. I’m fine with yelling about female power, seeing the Vagina Monologues, or talking about gender in politics for a class, but when I’m asked to admit that I, as a woman, am inherently in a position of less priviledge, less entitlement, and institutionalized oppression, makes me nauseous. I guess the same thing can be said about me being an ethnic minority, but I often regard being a Pakistani American Muslim as a transitioning identity – sometimes I’m on the receiving end of racism, sometimes I’m surrounded by people who consider me to be “white.”

In any case, while I wanted to hear these issues being discussed, I hesitate to be labeled as a “have-not” which is inherent in the activity we were about to do. We began by creating “gender boxes” which described all the framework of conduct, appearance, and demeanor within which contemporary societal values have placed each of the genders. So, for men, “appropriate” characteristics are being aggressive, having a tremendous sex drive, and being hairy. For women, we listed things like being attractive, timid, and a follower.

We went on to examine specific instances during the summer where we’ve felt very “aware of our gender.” I suppose this is where the conversation got the most intense.

I have a fear, a real and consistent fear, that I will be demeaned or harassed because of my gender when I’m communicating with partners or community members we’re working with. And I’ve never really admitted it. But this conversation kind of forced me to confess that it was there, because other girls in the room were willing to admit the same thing. Honestly, it was really difficult. What was worse is that I didn’t leave the conversation feeling like I had discovered a solution to the problem, but more like I reached a dead end because this is simply the way things are. I didn’t really have any revelations about what I can do to solve this, except to recognize that it exists and to negate those thoughts when they come into my head.

I did leave this anti oppression session thinking about the list of potential solutions for a “wonderful, genderful summer!” that myself and my fellow Summer of Solutions participants came up with. The one most applicable to me? Recognizing that fear when it comes in my head, because if I don’t negate it the moment it approaches, nobody else will.

Heavy business to think about! And I just wanted to volunteer for a summer! I'm still glad that SoS is forcing me to think about these things – I’ve found that this kind of insight doesn’t come from meditating on my own about these issues. That’s what the core of anti-oppression means: conversation.