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My self-defined role in most gay, cis-man places is to disrupt the misogyny through . . . wait for it . . . not being misogynistic (gasp!). This usually comes in the form of talking about my support for womynism, my admiration for Virginia Woolf and bell hooks and Toni Morrison, and my love for vaginas. But not being misogynistic, as easy as it seems, takes effort when you inhabit spaces where men (gay and straight) beat their chests, talk about dick, refuse to utter the word “vagina” or “feminist,” support the patriarchy (in all the ways), and then have views of gender that make me want to fall off the cliff of civil society (I’m coming, Wilderson!).

It takes conscious effort for me to check my privilege, to note my oppressive behavior, and then change how I approach the world in order for me to not be a complete dumbass.

In my experience, and in (cis-man) friend’s experience that I’ve heard, misogyny is tied into the coming out process. You drop the truth bomb that you expect to shatter your world, “I’m gay,” but instead it goes to obliterate the feminine within your life while simultaneously projecting it back onto yourself through the internalization of stereotypes to ground one’s identity. I don’t like women. What’s a vagina? Ugh, there are too many women here. Why do women keep complaining, being gay is SO hard. Vagina is a dark cave where people go to die. I’m gay and I don’t like women.

To me this sounds like not an affirmation of gay identity but a complete success in embracing misogyny.

So to help combat this tendency in myself that society approves of, puts into me, and supports, I surround myself by (cis- and trans*-) womyn. I surround myself with friends who have lived experiences, voices, and feelings. Womyn have always been an important part to my life and I want to support the efforts of all womyn to fight systems of oppression directed against them.

Last night I reaffirmed that to love cis-womyn you have to love vagina. Last night I went to the Vagina Monologues.

Vaginas are magical. They are exquisite. They are beautiful. They are dangerous. They are fierce. They are angry. They are loving. They are a part unexplored by some, unknown by others, ignored by most. And for all of the phallic imagery in society, for all the talk of penis and dick and cock, I WANT TO TALK ABOUT VAGINAS. pussy. cunt.

(However problematic it is for me to use the last two words, which it is–#cisman, I support all womyn who chose to reclaim these words for their visceral, aesthetic, and wondrous power. And when you have an audience affirming a monologist by following directions of yelling “cunt” at the top of their lungs it is hard not to join in.)

The Vagina Monologues is the perfect venue–a place (perhaps the only place on campus these days. . . ) that actively supports vaginas. I come into the lobby to find friends, soon-to-be-friends, strangers. We wander from table to table picking up handouts from SAPAC, brochures from Safe House Center, condoms from Sexperteam, saran wrap talks from Spectrum Center, and buttons from Students for Choice. It was a pro-womyn space that should be everywhere.

Although the event wasn’t perfect–as nothing is–it was, in my opinion, a success. It left me thinking of what I could do next, “how do I proceed from here?”

I will talk about vaginas more often and not shame them when conversations about them come up. I will support all talk about vaginas and menstruation. I will talk about the oppression of womyn and specifically the oppression of trans* womyn whenever I get the chance. I will not allow for my community to disrespect womyn through acts of violence, be it verbal, physical, spatial, etc.

But I will check myself. I will not talk for womyn, I will let them share their story. I will listen to their lived experiences without assuming or judging. I will do my best to check my offensive language. I will embrace the feminine in all its aspects and not shame people for doing the same.

Listen to herstory. It has always been here.

Entering a new medium is often all at once immensely thrilling (look at all these new possibilities that have opened up before you!) and immensely difficult (quite frankly— what is everyone else doing that you’re not?). Sometimes the learning curve is immediate and steep, and other times the obstacles are not visible until much later. Consuming the art and playing the audience for it, I think, is little different.

The reappearance of the Ann Arbor Film Festival this week provides a fertile ground for indulging in sensory rumination, for exploring ideas and concepts dissembled and reassembled and fed to the audience through various audio-visual stimuli. It has been, as an event, largely opaque to me. I’d never quite understood its intended audience, its intended market, whether it was meant to be a rather exclusive intellectual mingling or something accessible to the public at large, and I’ve certainly never been.

Finally attending one gives me little to no authority to speak on the matter, but it has produced ideas, relevant ideas such as: Is the artist’s primary responsibility to the medium or to the subject? The proper treatment of one is no use without the same of the oddslot other. Do you lay out all the facts completely and fairly, or do you craft a narrative? Bits of both will end up being sacrificed before a balance is achieved. Yet the concept of genre, fitting the content into a known form, is often met with disdain regardless of its format. Prose, sculpture, or film, there are parameters, but there is also room to explore. How far then, and how?

Banksy, the pseudonymous England-based graffiti artist, political activist, film director, and painter, is not actually Paul William Horner, and his mystery makes him even cooler.

Banksy is known for his stencil work on the streets of England where he promoted strikingly truthful phrases paired with dark images that revealed his anti-war, capitalist, and establishment perspectives. The street is his canvas, and has Christened houses, museums, and “do not trespass” grounds with his works. He flees from the police, and for his entire artistic life has remained anonymous. He brings what many other street-artist predecessors have also introduced to the public – a form of art that breaks free from all rules, institutions, and inhibitions. They are representations of the people, a democratized perspective of sorts, which integrates into the very streets you walk and live every day. In 2010 he

created his first film, “Exit Through the Gift Shop,” showcasing “the inside story of Street Art – a brutal and revealing account of what happens when fame, money and vandalism collide,” and received an Academy Award nomination for Best Documentary Film in 2011.

Street art brings a sense of truth and excitement that traditional, gallery housed art lacks. The unavailability, raw perspective, and inherently cool factors make its study that much more exclusive and exciting.

Is being said by two or three people around campus. Since the student organization MUSIC Matters released the artist for their annual charity concert, I have only encountered a few students who have been overwhelmingly excited about the choice. The truth is, most folks forgot Ben Folds was even making music when they graduated high school, and the artist choice came as a bit of a surprise. Ben Folds last released an album in 2008, which makes him slightly outdated on a college campus.

However, all of that being said, the concert looks extremely promising. Above all, MUSIC Matters’ principal goal is to raise money for a different cause each year; the 2013 concert will create a needs-based scholarship for accepted high school students to come to Michigan. This alone is praiseworthy, and an excellent use of music and school resources. Furthermore, the concert will be at Hill Auditorium, which will be fairly suitable for Ben-Folds type music. Last year, MSUIC Matters presented their first concert by bringing in J Cole at Hill Auditorium. As I commented on last year around this time, (see here: http://arts.umich.edu/ink/2012/04/08/2456/) Hill Auditorium is possibly the worst venue for a Hip Hop concert, and this severely restricted the level of enjoyment. For a more folk-acoustic type show, comfortable seats and a beautiful theater might be more appropriate.

The concert is April 11; if you aren’t doing anything I recommend checking out the show. The cheapest tickets are $20, and the money goes to an amazing cause. Just think of it as donating the money to an incredible scholarship fund, and then getting to see Ben Folds in return. What could be better than that?