Just off the elevator on the third floor of Leavey, I picked up the audition material for The Vagina Monologues. I took my place amidst a dozen or so girls (women) waiting to be called in and turned my attention to the script. I got to word six. Then I stopped. Absorbed, I kept reading. It happened again in line three, then in line nine. Nine times later, I got through reading the monologue, and was immediately called into audition.
I sat in a chair, facing the two directors. They waited for me to begin the monologue. When I came to word six, I said it, “Vagina” and then again in line three, “Vagina,” and I proceeded to say it nine more times as I made my way through the rest of the monologue. It felt weird. It felt unnatural. Now, I don’t consider myself a prude, but is it really necessary for the word “vagina” to appear eleven times in three pages?
I read The Vagina Monologues for the first time over winter break. Packing to come back to school, I noticed my copy was missing. When asked about it, my mom reluctantly admitted that she had “confiscated” it. To give you some point of reference for my mother’s political views, she was the “mother of a freshman in the College” who wrote a letter in the fall of 1998 to Leo O’Donovan protesting the distribution of condoms at a Catholic institution.
I wanted the book back. She refused, saying that it was filthy, risqu? and discusses issues that belong in the private sphere, between a husband and a wife. She didn’t want any daughter of hers reading junk like that. It belonged in the trash.
Her reaction was no surprise, but I was bewildered to find myself resisting the urge to attack my mom personally with such tried-and-true debatewinners as “You’re so delusional!” and “Where have you been for the last 30 years?” Instead I addressed Mom’s concerns directly, defending something that I was a little uncomfortable with myself. I rationalized that while not all of the monologues hit home for me either, agreeing with everything Eve Ensler says is not the point. I explained to my R-rated-movie disapproving, Talbots-loving mother that in this male-dominated earth, women have been misconceived and hidden in a million ways. They’ve been taught to hate their bodies, to hate their sex and to expect violence if they project certain messages through how they dress, or walk, or whether or not they make eye contact. Women are misunderstood, misrepresented and misread. Often times, when a woman doesn’t want to have sex, it’s not because she doesn’t want sex, it’s because she doesn’t want sex with you. Women like sex. Women crave sex, and when they don’t get it, many women masturbate.
Eve Ensler demands that the world understand that the taboo claiming female sexuality and violence against women is pass?. Her prerogative is not to blame, but rather to say, “Hey, this happened to me, and it really sucked.” or “This happened to me, and, wow, it was really amazing.” The point is to think and do. Ensler is doing both.
She started by interviewing women from every walk of life and compiling these interviews into this series of monologues. Her work was a shock to the stage. It was glaringly honest, grabbing the attention of women, men and critics alike. But Ensler didn’t stop there. Her main operative is to end all violence against women, and she uses her piece not only to make people aware, but to activate. By allowing communities across the globe to perform her piece free on Valentine’s Day, she takes the first step. Ensler only stipulates a ticket charge, with proceeds going to any organization that deals with violence against women.
After 20 minutes of debate, Mom looked up, and I think she understood. And in her understanding, I understood. The Vagina Monologues’ greatest achievement is the all-inclusive forum that it’s created, in suburban living rooms, in urban coffee houses, on college campuses. It’s a forum that allows an ultra-Catholic housewife from Ohio to discuss how she feels about vaginas. Ensler states, “We forget the vagina, all of us. What else would explain our lack of awe, or lack of wonder.”
Anna Reich is a senior in The College. Despite their many differences, she loves her mother dearly.
