A List of “Men’s Rights” Issues That Feminism Is Already Working On
Feminists do not want you to lose custody of your children. The assumption that women are naturally better caregivers is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not like commercials in which bumbling dads mess up the laundry and competent wives have to bustle in and fix it. The assumption that women are naturally better housekeepers is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to have to make alimony payments. Alimony is set up to combat the fact that women have been historically expected to prioritize domestic duties over professional goals, thus minimizing their earning potential if their “traditional” marriages end. The assumption that wives should make babies instead of money is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want anyone to get raped in prison. Permissiveness and jokes about prison rape are part of rape culture, which is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want anyone to be falsely accused of rape. False rape accusations discredit rape victims, which reinforces rape culture, which is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to be lonely and we do not hate “nice guys.” The idea that certain people are inherently more valuable than other people because of superficial physical attributes is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to have to pay for dinner. We want the opportunity to achieve financial success on par with men in any field we choose (and are qualified for), and the fact that we currently don’t is part of patriarchy. The idea that men should coddle and provide for women, and/or purchase their affections in romantic contexts, is condescending and damaging and part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to be maimed or killed in industrial accidents, or toil in coal mines while we do cushy secretarial work and various yarn-themed activities. The fact that women have long been shut out of dangerous industrial jobs (by men, by the way) is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to commit suicide. Any pressures and expectations that lower the quality of life of either gender are part of patriarchy. The fact that depression is characterized as an effeminate weakness, making men less likely to seek treatment, is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to be viewed with suspicion when you take your child to the park (men frequently insist that this is a serious issue, so I will take them at their word). The assumption that men are insatiable sexual animals, combined with the idea that it’s unnatural for men to care for children, is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want you to be drafted and then die in a war while we stay home and iron stuff. The idea that women are too weak to fight or too delicate to function in a military setting is part of patriarchy.
Feminists do not want women to escape prosecution on legitimate domestic violence charges, nor do we want men to be ridiculed for being raped or abused. The idea that women are naturally gentle and compliant and that victimhood is inherently feminine is part of patriarchy.
Feminists hate patriarchy. We do not hate you.
If you really care about those issues as passionately as you say you do, you should be thanking feminists, because feminism is a social movement actively dedicated to dismantling every single one of them. The fact that you blame feminists—your allies—for problems against which they have been struggling for decades suggests that supporting men isn’t nearly as important to you as resenting women. We care about your problems a lot. Could you try caring about ours?” —
We’re at the top three now!!! I want Alaska and Jinkx to be the top 2, pretty please.
While I’m totally aware that “reality” tv has the power to paint a very specific picture of these characters-Roxxy as the pageant queen biatch, Jinkx as the quirky victim and Alaska as the never had to lip-sync partner of last season’s winner-I can say that Jinkx has what it takes to be America’s Next Drag SUPERSTAR.
I went to school with Jerick and was constantly amazed at his performative talent, his down to earth, humble personality and determination. I would come to school at the butt crack of dawn to catch up on homework and he’d be there, cleaning the computer lab, fulfilling his janitorial duties. All of you who think he’s faking his tears or trying to be sneaky to get to the top, you’re wrong. He’s a truly humble person and maybe he’s more vulnerable in front of the camera than the other girls but I think that’s a strength, a quality that inspires many people.
And as for that last episode, where Roxxy stated that Jinkx was ‘lucky’ that she made it that far….that’s just a big ‘ol case of insecurity on Roxxy’s part. While Roxxy is a fierce queen, with impeccable style-and I love her curvy body-I believe that America’s next drag Superstar needs to have a presence that can hold thousands of people’s attention-a personality that appeals to and inspires multitudes of people and clarity of mind that keeps them humble and down to earth.
What I love most about Jinkx is that she never forgets where she comes from and who her inspirations are-you get the feeling that she isn’t just doing this for the money and fame but because she’ll use that money and fame to change people’s lives, to reach out to unseen communities to inspire them to follow their dreams.
What it comes down to for me is this: you can buy costumes and wigs-you can learn how to improve those skills. But talent, heart and passion and compassion-that’s what people will remember you for. Did anyone else cry when Dave revealed to Jinkx what his medical condition was? and how Jinkx was so considerate about that-how he embraced Dave as he was? Yes, that.
It is the year of the snake-my year. Here’s what’s going down!
MARCH: My cousin AJ’s birthday (3/4) My Uncle Charlie’s birthday (3/8) My birthday and my mother’s birthday. 24 and 44, respectively. (There was some summer loving going on in the family!)
I’m rehearsing for Seattle Public Theater’s Edith Can Shoot Things and Hit Them and the show opens March 28th and running until April 21st. Here’s a synopsis for you:
“Three kids — Kenny (Jose Aboag), his sister Edith (Sara L. Porkalob), and their friend Benji (Tim Smith Stewart) — are all but abandoned on a farm in remote Middle America. With little adult supervision, they feed and care for each other, making up the rules as they go. But when Kenny’s relationship with Benji becomes more than friendship, and Edith shoots something she really shouldn’t shoot, the formerly indifferent outside world comes barging in whether they want it to or not.”
This is the smallest cast I’ve ever had the privilege to be in and already, the process is open, honest, caring, inspiring and challenging. I’m ready to shoot stuff!
APRIL: My Aunty Lily’s birthday. Spring!
I am collaborating with my immensely talented and inspiring friends: Kathleen Le Coze-a set designer and installation artist and Rachel Levens-a multi-disciplinary performance artist. We’ve secured The Closet Gallery at Cornish College of the Arts and are in beginning talks about an installation/live performance piece in the vein of avant-garde performance, breaking the boundary of audience and performer, evoking an oscillatory relationship between performance and presence, etc. Kathleen will be the installation artist, Rachel will be performing and I will be directing but we all have equal say in all aspects of the piece, from its inception to composition and finally, performance. I’ve VERY excited and ready to challenge my aesthetic as a director. Plus, working with these ladies is a gift itself.
I am auditioning for 12 Minutes Max at On the Boards. I have lengthened my solo piece, Dragon Lady, and I hope to perform it for an audience of multi-disciplinary artists. Dragon Lady has definitely changed since the first showing last May at The Solo Showcase at Cornish. Since May, I’ve performed the piece for small groups of friends, as an opener for a friends solo show at the Little Theater on 19th and at Washington Hall for a Pinay Sa Seattle event. Here’s hoping that I get in!
MAY: Aunty Jill’s Birthday!
The LIVING ROOM PROJECT BEGINS! Last month, my friend Madison Mabbot had a marvelous idea: Since securing rehearsal/performance space is such a pain in the ass if you’re not an established company or if you don’t have the necessary moolah/clout, why not use the space we do have? LIKE OUR HOUSES?! OR OTHER PEOPLE’S HOUSES WHO ARE OPEN TO IT?! GENIUS! So we-meaning Cornish people/current students/alumni-got together to brainstorm and what we’ve come up with is this:
Beginning May 5th, we will curate/produce/act/direct/write and ultimately perform an original piece of work in someone’s house-a new piece for every weekend. Locations will change every week and all performances will be open to the public. If we choose to continue this process into June-there will be opportunities for newer spaces, site specific work, collaboration with location, etc. It’s all very exciting and of course, it’s happening all over. Check out this rad sight: http://www.hometheaterfestival.com/
My lovely friend and band mate (more on the band later) Stacy Lynn Gilbert, is a playwright and performance artist. She is in the process of writing a one act play comprised of ‘scene-let’s-2 to 3 person scenes that are or can be ten minute plays, able to stand on their own. Stacy blends razor sharp Dali inspired imagery, Pinter pauses, witty dialogue and her own dash of sparkling whimsy to create plays that are downright absurd and gut wrenchingly funny. We’ve taken three of these scene-lets, If you give a Peach a Perch, Raising a Romulus and Cocoon, and are going to stage them in our house in Ravenna. Outside, dining room/living room, bedroom. They will be performed promenade style, with the audience split into three groups. All three plays will be happening at the same time, repeated three times so that each group will see all scenes but in a different order than the other groups. Exciting, no? And hell to organize, what with timing and crowd control but I don’t care, we’re doing it! I was inspired by a senior show I saw last year at Cornish, Fefu and Her Friends By Maria Irene Fornes, directed by one of my friends and mentors, Paul Budraitis and featuring a cast of some of the best acting I’ve seen at Cornish. It was a promenade piece, executed with such care, grace and skill-even as I was moving from location to location, I was in the play-I felt as if I had left behind a part of myself in each of those rooms and even as I type this, tears are coming-that play moved me so much, more than any other play I can recall seeing in the last five years-I was mentally and emotionally exhausted after it was over but felt rejuvenated-I came back a second time, I loved it so much. So, yes, it inspired to me experiment with the promenade style. We’ll see what happens but I embrace the challenge. After the show, we’re planning a ripping rad BBQ in our back yard! We’re draining the pond and making a fire pit, oh yeaaah. ALSO, there will be a live performance by The HoneyChurch Sisters!
JUNE,JULY,AUGUST: Tina’s Birthday (7/16/), Cousin Alix’s Birthday (7/21)
The summer is loosely structured but I am definitely taking a two week vacation and it’ll most likely be spent in CALI! I will visit my Aunty Lily and best friend Mark in LA, tan on the beaches and live it up. I’d like to save up and take my Mom will be, if she can get that time off of work. Since she’s moved back from Hawaii I know that she’s happy being closer to family but I know she misses the sun and beaches so maybe a mother/daughter vacation? CAMPING! I WANT TO GO CAMPING DAMMIT. San Juan Islands, maybe? Doe Bay?! GARDEN! BBQ! FAMILY! FRIENDS! ART! SMOKEFARM! This year, I’d like to go as an observer. The last two years, I’ve been performing and haven’t been able to enjoy the full scope of the farm. This is the year!
(MIRANDA)!! I almost forgot! My good friend, Katherine Jett-a playwright, dancer and performer-and I have been mulling over an idea that is semi-solid on paper, amorphous in thought and gargantuan in real time perspective. We want to produce a site specific performance piece, taking place in a house scheduled for demolition, in the Capitol Hill Area. Collaborating with a talented scenic designer/installation artist, Christopher Mumaw-we would transform this house into the brain of Miranda, daughter of Prospero, survivor of The Tempest. A promenade piece drive by solo dance performance, interactive installation and audience participation-this piece will elucidate the chemistry of the brains electrical synapses, its symbiotic relationship with the id and how, under severe traumatic experience, the human spirit strives to save itself. Again, a giant of a project. Kat and I have been so busy with separate projects that we haven’t had a solid stretch of time to devote to this but this summer we’ll be working in workshop phase, exploring, playing, tuning our instinct and intuition. We’ll see what happens!
SEPTEMBER-NOVEMBER: My Uncle Ronald’s Birthday (10/9), My Best friend Romeo’s birthday (10/12)
I begin my online TEFL certification and begin the process of job placement in Latin America.
If all works out with job placement, I spend time with family and friends, bidding farewell. I pack. Give away my books and records.
Move to a different country, teach, live, experience.
I’m ready. Viva la fiesta!
It started with a case of toothache and ended with drugs, the medicinal, pill sort.
As such, I did not go into work today. Instead, I transformed my walk-in closet into a reading nook, nand read through all of my old college papers. And I found this:
“What was your process for generating this audition?”
…My O-Works audition piece focuses on the dynamic between cultural relativism and ethnocentrism. This idea is illustrated through: Japanese and Western relations during WWII, specifically focusing on the “masculine western gaze”, the “feminine East” and the existing stereotypes revolving around a “dominate/submissive” romantic relationship. I’ve incorporated butoh and ballet choreography to parallel the dichotomy of “East and West,” with the through line of cultural assimilation and racist bias between generations. My piece consists of five moments which span three different “worlds”: the literal today, the recent past and the surreal mind. These are the worlds in which my Grandmother lives. The past and the surreal mind, for her, are malleable dimensions-she shapes her life into a specifically nuanced story because from this, is there relief from the literal today which has no conscience….I finished the textual element of my script, compiled an efficient dramaturgy packet, snagged my actors and started rehearsing the beginning of July. It’s been great.
“What do you hope to learn from this program?”
Everything I can.
And I thought to myself, when did my work stop responding to..to life? When did I become numb to it?… And then I found some pretty great John Wilson quotes that I wrote down during the course of Performance Art History and Theory…Since graduation, I’ve been waiting for that “Aha!” moment-that’s not to say that I haven’t been busy-but it means that this entire summer, I felt that I was waiting for SOMETHING, I could feel it coming-a premonition? An expectation? Something along those lines but possibly, or most definitely-more woo-woo. And it happened, on Tuesday-which coincided with my best friends birthday-I knew. I knew what I wanted to do for the rest of my life-in such a specific yet oscillatory way, I knew how I wanted to spend my short life-and it was such a feeling. Such a feeling.
Met up with QuiQui and Akoni at Z’s Pizza on Broadway-They had calzones and me, a slice of Hawaiian.
Traipsed across the street to Strawshop’s ELECTIONATION party at BPH. Saw some of our friends; I claimed my two drink tickets at the bar. Quiqui’s drink was titled “A Moderate Republican” and mine, “Romnesia”. We met up with Jojo and his lovely wife, hung out for an hour or so, watched CNN on the projector with all of the other party guests.
We decide to venture out to a bar to grab some food because, of course, we’re hungry again. Every place on Pike was full so Barrio was where we ended up-and Barrio had no TV, no coverage of the race! Luckily, I had my smarty phone with its handy app and we had taquitos, Mexican rice and sangria to keep us occupied. And then it happens-my phone says we hit 274 electoral votes-I double check CNN, then receive a confirmation text from a friend and I shout it out to the bar and people cheer and hug and cry and Akoni ordered us celebratory tequila shots and the bartender is making blue shots, in honor of Barack—Barack-o-shots! And then the gentleman next to us buys our next round of drinks and people are so happy and our check comes and we go find Jojo at the sports bar that used to be the old war room-and IT’S PACKED WITH PEOPLE-all waiting for Romney’s concession speech, Obama’s acceptance speech-it’s hot in there so we leave with new friends in tow, we end up on 10th and Pike where history repeats itself-a huge dance party in the street that lasts for hours…people are drinking and smoking and kissing and laughing and dancedancedancing-Jojo is taking pictures and documenting the event all via his iphone, Bacardi rum somehow makes an appearance and for a minute, we’re all pirates and then a man hands us a joint that is as thick as my pinky and is all, happy election night and we’re like WHAT and then his speech is blared through speakers and Whitney Houston stops playing and we listen to our President and people are crying then we dance some more and Akoni and I decide it’s time for Molly Moons-my first time ever having it, I wanted to wait until something special merited a visit-and we sit on the curb, listening to crowd a block over-cheering, screaming, dancing-I have Baracky-Road in my cone, it only seems appropriate-he has balsamic strawberry-I’m high from all the weed in the air and I know I’m drunk and with one of my best friends and we have four more years.
I had this vivid dream about you around 7 this morning.
I was walking down a street surrounded by abandoned buildings, all made of terra cotta-the kind that’s cream, not orange. It was a hot day, the kind where you can see the heat in the air, those waves that it makes. You were walking ahead of me, holding a large branch that was interfering with the electric wires above our heads, it was that tall.
“Hi. What are you doing with that stick?”
I noticed you were wearing a green knit sweater and I thought, “How silly, it’s sweltering out here-but of course you’d do the opposite-just to be contrary-that’s just like you.” And I liked you all the more for it.
“I’m seeing which way it naturally points.”
“The branch? Why?”
“I’m making a giant windmill.”
Pause. (Are you serious? I see that you are, you are always serious it seems)
“Well then. Can I watch you?”
“I’d like that.”
All of a sudden, we’re inside one of those abandoned buildings and lord, is it beautiful in there. VAST, EMPTY, it looks like an abandoned Italian summer villa in there, outlines on the walls where portraits used to hang, old persian carpets still on the floor, lovelydusty but plush.
There’s a woman in there. You lean down to whisper in my ear,
“She looks like a designer. She wants to change this space into something retail-cold, shiny and dead. Distract her?”
So I do. I lead her to the kitchen where we talk about pasta, laundry and what this building is going to be.
“What was it before?”
“And now it will be…?”
“A place for costumes.”
“You know, chicken suits, bunny ears, the like.”
Pause. (Is she serious? Yes, she is. Her kind always is.)
“Well then. That’s a shame.”
“You would say that, wouldn’t you?”
“You know me?”
“Oh, yes. I know you. I know him. It will come to naught, what you’re trying to do.”
I am enraged. I punch my hand into her chest and pull out her heart. I take a bite out of it. Chew. Swallow. She is still alive-of course, it’s a dream-so she hears me,
“You heart is bland.”
She dies then.
I try to find you. I call out your name. You hear me,
“Is she gone?”
“Yes! Oh, yes. She is gone. Where are you?”
Then I am there with you. On the floor are the windmill’s wings, purple, green, blue, turquoise-I’m reminded of a dragon fly.
“How did you do that?”
“Perhaps. We’ll see if it lasts.”
I watch you work, I can watch you work forever-in a dream, at least-until the sun starts to set and shadows are cast on our faces because abandoned buildings have no electricity. We haven’t eaten and I feel guilty, so guilty-that I haven’t fed you.
“Are you hungry?”
“I could eat something.”
“Shall I make you something?”
You turn to me,
“Are you ok? You look…sad.”
“It must be the shadows in here.”
You take me by the shoulders, gently-that point of contact shocks me so much that I jump. You haven’t touched me this entire dream-and even though it’s just a dream-it feels real, with weight to it.
“Will you make me some food? I am hungry.”
“Of course, of course.”
You smile. Let me go. Turn back to your work. I walk down the hallway planning the spaghetti in my head and I think of what a fool I am. A happy fool.