One of my fondest imaginings of my mother, Susanna, is of her marching down the high street in a pair of clunky Dr. Martin boots and a whimsy floral dress, with her yellow hair wild down her back. Another story I’ve been told is how she once dyed her hair one-half red, one-half green when she was around fifteen. As I discovered my independent sense of style during my teenage years, I was inspired on a foundation level by my mother’s don’t-give-a-damn attitude. I chose not to give a damn either, and despite the natural self-consciousness of being a young person, especially having crushes and relationships, I wore things that made me feel the happiest I could be in my own body and communicated exactly who I felt I was. I didn’t listen to pressure and actually looked like the odd one out a lot of the time.
Our talented guest writer Elisha returns with her second instalment of Raising a Feminist.
We are all searching for the reason why we’re here. In some way or another, we’re all embarking on a journey that comes in the form of self-expression, personal development, accomplishment, fulfillment; success and purpose, whatever it may mean to you. The ways in which we try to fill the blanks between “I was born,” and “I was born, because…” are innumerable. Our journeys are all personal and vary greatly based on the individual, but something that I think gets lost is the divide between us as individuals and our children as individuals because being a parent is such an all-consuming job. We live and breathe for them which is, in so many ways, the most beautiful gift we give to them every day. With that said, something that we must remember is that our children each have their own identity and personage. If this is nurtured and encouraged, the product is Independent Children: children who are more inclined to be confident, self-sufficient, self-motivated, make better decisions, and collaborate better with peers.
Young Jean Lee has brought to Washington, D.C. audiences a deeply perceptive, provocative play about race and identity during a time when this particular demographic— straight, white, male— is undergoing an essential investigation. Straight White Men is no base attack on whiteness and masculinity, nor a send-up of xenophobic caricature or supremacist stereotype, but instead a nuanced examination of the “well-meaning white man.” Presented by the Studio Theatre and directed by Shana Cooper, Lee offers a thorough exploration of privilege, ambition, and the lasting effects of white guilt.
Emerging from New York’s avant-garde, Young Jean Lee is no upstart playwright, boasting 12 produced works under her belt and touted by The New York Times as “the most adventurous downtown playwright of her generation.” A veritable force in the contemporary theater world, Lee is known for her daring voice and experimental style, notably so in her 2011 production of Untitled Feminist Show. Straight White Men breaks her practice of non-traditional storytelling to present a linear, naturalistic performance that seduces traditional theatre-going audiences [white, wealthy] into confronting often unspoken anxieties about race [their whiteness].