I won't say that I spoke too soon about my women's studies class. I will say that last night was a good class, but I expected it to be. Last night's topic (in part) was "feminist art epistemologies." So taking aesthetics over the summer and then art this semester, I knew I'd have plenty to contribute and fight back with. Plus I'm in a class of historians and social science students... so my lingering fears of "I don't know enough, I have nothing to contribute" was completely gone... most have little knowledge of the art world.
The article assigned for class was by Peg Brand ("Feminist Art Epistemologies: Understanding Feminist Art"), and while reading it, all I could keep thinking was questions of intentionality. Many of the discussions of the process of "legitimization" for women artists in academia, culture, and history has a similar trajectory to music-- another comfortable familiarity for me. When Brand gets down to defining "feminist visual parody," she demands that for works to be feminist, we must know artistic intention and have knowledge of the subject matter in visual history.
And at first I thought that was limiting. The anti-intentionalist theorists would scoff. We shouldn't need to have all that information for us to know it is art. Then I realized that we weren't asking questions of whether it was "art" but if it was "feminist." We began a short discussion of this article (to which I raised questions of intentionality), and then the professor introduced a short documentary on the "Quilt's of Gee's Bend." Women, since the Depression in incredibly rural Alabama, have created gorgeous quilts to keep their family warm. In recent years these quilts have been bought up by art dealers and shown in major exhibits all across the country. And so the professor asks us if these pieces are "feminist art." To which the class replied "yes." It was created by women who took it upon themselves to provide for their family by whatever means necessary. By using fabrics of their old worn out clothing, the women were writing their histories into cloth. I bide my time. Professor looks at me. To which I say. No. This is not feminist art.
And here is my argument. More articulate than I was last night. Which I type here because I think it directly relates to my dissertation material.
The quilts of Gee's Bend are not feminist art. These women did not intentionally set out to create "works of art." There is a practicality to it that precludes this. Women stated they didn't care the layout of the quilt; they used whatever materials they had. Sometimes, the quilts were created socially (women sitting around singing and sewing), while other times it was out of necessity (staying up until the wee hours of the morning so their babies wouldn't freeze to death). If I were a strict intentionalist, I would immediately say the objects themselves aren't art. Period. End of subject.
But typically I'm not an intentionalist. I think the quilts are artfully crafted, beautiful works. Except for when it comes to the term "feminism," I find myself more of an intentionalist. Feminism is an intentional act. Feminist scholars work to remedy the dearth of scholarship on women. Activist feminists protest. Women intentionally speak out. Feminists question the status quo. To be a feminist means an intentional call to action.
So I argue that the Gee's Bend women did not themselves create feminist works of art. But the ensuing activities of art galleries and collectors were feminist. If we are to live in a post-modern/post-post modern/contemporary world (however you want to term it), then most definitely the actions of those who saw these quilts can be classified as feminist. Jenny Holzer writes phrases in all capital letters and displays them on billboards in Times Square, and that's considered feminist art... because she intentionally set out to make a statement about women. That's what the art dealers/collectors were doing. They shed light onto an area of women's history that was previously unknown. They were trying to show the tenacity and strength of American women. The artistic establishment created feminist art, not the women themselves.
Now relating back to my dissertation. I think it would be too easy to say that I was looking for the feminists of fin de siecle America. Surely you can find women who you could interpret as feminists. Suffragettes, for example. But fewer women in a musical realm were thinking in those terms. It's almost anachronistic to say that someone like Rose Fay Thomas or Cecile Chaminade were feminists. Because they weren't. (Partially because the term in America wasn't readily used until the 1910s.) In fact they advocated women to remain within the home. They simply provided alternative activities to everyday housework. In formulating exactly what I'm trying to argue at this point, I'm completely leaving out the term "feminist." Perhaps it will work its way back in when I begin to talk about the ensuing musical culture that these figures of femininity created. But when speaking of the women themselves, as a historian, I cannot bring myself to characterize their actions in a feminist light.
What I'm doing... that's feminist musicology. But I'm not studying feminist history exactly. I'm studying women's history. Musical culture by women, for women. Takeaway point for me from last night's class: I don't think we should throw out the term "feminist" lightly. Feminism is an intentional act. And feminist art is consciously thought out.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
Issues of "women's studies" courses
--Long disclaimer--
I acknowledge that people have different styles of learning and handling life situations. I also acknowledge that in any given classroom, professors have to work with a wide range of student abilities and levels of familiarity with a subject. At my university, I am cognizant that in order to meet student quotas, graduate level classes have to be open to undergraduates, masters students, and higher level phds. And I fully realize that the course I signed up for is entitled "foundations of women's studies" so I might not get quite as deep an analysis of gender as is possible.
--end disclaimer--
I'm done with women's studies classes. I thought the first course was a fluke, that this one based in philosophy would be better. I thought that taking from a sociologist might equate more theories of the interaction of gender in society. I was assured that this would give me the base knowledge I need to write an articulate dissertation.
But what I've found, at least at this university, is that regardless of the course or professor, students equate the field of women's studies to "let's talk about our feelings" or "let's vent about sexism in the media." I agree, the tradition of burqas in Afganistan is an interesting tradition. Yes, the super bowl displays gendered stereotypes. But I would really prefer we discuss the readings. The readings that I spend *hours* pouring over, writing notes and summaries to ensure I understand what a *sociologist from Australia* has to say about gender. [The book is problematic-- it's a 200 page literature review of gender in academic studies in the past 100 years, and it throws out so many theories per page, it's dense and very difficult to gain anything from.] I don't come to class to be asked "well what do you think about [insert vague subject from book]" and then have it lead back to someone's venting of life.
I'm here to learn about performative gender studies and to know the various scholar's theories on gender throughout history (preferably American but I'll not be too terribly picky at this point). I sign up for women's studies courses because I have a foundation in feminist musicology, but not in Judith Butler. I can't completely rattle off the waves of feminism's major players or dates. I am about to write a dissertation that postulates a theory of gender in music, and I'd like to have a groundwork in feminist theories. I want to go through all the philosophies of gender to make sure I'm incredibly articulate and considering all perspectives when I say these figures of femininity were performing their gender, exhibiting popular ideals of society for their female audience, creating a female musical experience.
I'm passionate about digging deeper because that has been my critiques (when I get them) from scholars outside of this university. That I don't have enough theory and philosophy to back up my claims. So women's studies department.... Let's talk about philosophy. Help me understand. No, thank you, I can read on various feminist blogs about the controversy with young girls and legos. And I do that all the time-- read feminist blogs. Every day in fact. But that's pop women's studies to me, and I am in need of something more. In my mind, a graduate level course should move past "this is how I feel as a woman, and things make me angry sometimes." Sure, an undergraduate class might require that sort of emotional release. Female students at that level need to be exposed to women/gender of various conditions. But if you are touting your course as for graduate students, let's move past emotion.
Now this post makes my class out to be the worst thing ever. It has opened my eyes to new theories on gender (by in large from the textbooks). And some of the discussions have been remotely helpful in expanding my definitions of gender research. It is a million times better than my previous women's studies course 3 years ago. But I still feel like I could have gotten all of this information from reading the textbook.
Must I continue to be self-taught in this field? Because I really don't have a problem doing so. I'd just prefer if people don't turn down their noses when I say that all that I've learned on gender I've had to read and process on my own. The first class meeting asked us to expand our defnitions of what is feminism. And consequently I readily accept that I am, in fact, a feminist. Musicologist, that is. I'm sorry America. I'm not the angry feminist you might want to box me in as. I don't scream out frustrations about the patriarchy. Because that's not going to do me any good. I am going to continue to try to grasp what it means to be an American woman in any era, and then apply that to my musicological research. My advocacy is not for the slut walks. It's for more female scholarship at the national conferences. And I'm going to continue to do my part. With or without this university's women's studies department.
I acknowledge that people have different styles of learning and handling life situations. I also acknowledge that in any given classroom, professors have to work with a wide range of student abilities and levels of familiarity with a subject. At my university, I am cognizant that in order to meet student quotas, graduate level classes have to be open to undergraduates, masters students, and higher level phds. And I fully realize that the course I signed up for is entitled "foundations of women's studies" so I might not get quite as deep an analysis of gender as is possible.
--end disclaimer--
I'm done with women's studies classes. I thought the first course was a fluke, that this one based in philosophy would be better. I thought that taking from a sociologist might equate more theories of the interaction of gender in society. I was assured that this would give me the base knowledge I need to write an articulate dissertation.
But what I've found, at least at this university, is that regardless of the course or professor, students equate the field of women's studies to "let's talk about our feelings" or "let's vent about sexism in the media." I agree, the tradition of burqas in Afganistan is an interesting tradition. Yes, the super bowl displays gendered stereotypes. But I would really prefer we discuss the readings. The readings that I spend *hours* pouring over, writing notes and summaries to ensure I understand what a *sociologist from Australia* has to say about gender. [The book is problematic-- it's a 200 page literature review of gender in academic studies in the past 100 years, and it throws out so many theories per page, it's dense and very difficult to gain anything from.] I don't come to class to be asked "well what do you think about [insert vague subject from book]" and then have it lead back to someone's venting of life.
I'm here to learn about performative gender studies and to know the various scholar's theories on gender throughout history (preferably American but I'll not be too terribly picky at this point). I sign up for women's studies courses because I have a foundation in feminist musicology, but not in Judith Butler. I can't completely rattle off the waves of feminism's major players or dates. I am about to write a dissertation that postulates a theory of gender in music, and I'd like to have a groundwork in feminist theories. I want to go through all the philosophies of gender to make sure I'm incredibly articulate and considering all perspectives when I say these figures of femininity were performing their gender, exhibiting popular ideals of society for their female audience, creating a female musical experience.
I'm passionate about digging deeper because that has been my critiques (when I get them) from scholars outside of this university. That I don't have enough theory and philosophy to back up my claims. So women's studies department.... Let's talk about philosophy. Help me understand. No, thank you, I can read on various feminist blogs about the controversy with young girls and legos. And I do that all the time-- read feminist blogs. Every day in fact. But that's pop women's studies to me, and I am in need of something more. In my mind, a graduate level course should move past "this is how I feel as a woman, and things make me angry sometimes." Sure, an undergraduate class might require that sort of emotional release. Female students at that level need to be exposed to women/gender of various conditions. But if you are touting your course as for graduate students, let's move past emotion.
Now this post makes my class out to be the worst thing ever. It has opened my eyes to new theories on gender (by in large from the textbooks). And some of the discussions have been remotely helpful in expanding my definitions of gender research. It is a million times better than my previous women's studies course 3 years ago. But I still feel like I could have gotten all of this information from reading the textbook.
Must I continue to be self-taught in this field? Because I really don't have a problem doing so. I'd just prefer if people don't turn down their noses when I say that all that I've learned on gender I've had to read and process on my own. The first class meeting asked us to expand our defnitions of what is feminism. And consequently I readily accept that I am, in fact, a feminist. Musicologist, that is. I'm sorry America. I'm not the angry feminist you might want to box me in as. I don't scream out frustrations about the patriarchy. Because that's not going to do me any good. I am going to continue to try to grasp what it means to be an American woman in any era, and then apply that to my musicological research. My advocacy is not for the slut walks. It's for more female scholarship at the national conferences. And I'm going to continue to do my part. With or without this university's women's studies department.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Idol as resume builder
I was asked to answer a couple questions on American Idol and pop music today. One of them questioned how American Idol had changed popular music aesthetics, and I hold by my assertion that if you are looking at simply style and genre, Idol has had little impact on trends of popular music. Because of Idol's young contestant pool, especially in the first 5 seasons, singers rely heavily on their own musical idols to craft their cover song performance week to week (more on that in a moment). Therefore Idol hasn't reinvented popular music styles or even truly impacted any significant musical trends. It is the mirror to which we can see the trends of the music industry from year to year.
But if you look at method of musical dissemination, expectations of musical performances, a revitalization of the "American songbook," and the creation of a new generation of quasi-recognizable musical acts, then Idol has changed American musical society a great deal.
Without getting into my list above too much, I want to discuss the soundbite that didn't make it into the press release because I think one thing will "stand the test of time" longer than anything else when we talk about American Idol in the history books. The All-New Mickey Mouse Club that ran in the 1990s today is remembered for the stars it produced, both actors and singers. And I know Idol's format is inherently much different than MMC, but it is very similar in the amount of viable, competent singers that Idol has produced. 4 of the last 5 Super Bowl's national anthems were sung by former Idol contestants. Former Idols have gone on to win Grammys and an Oscar. They star on Broadway and series television. They become radio hosts and television correspondents. Idol allows musicians enough screen time to become a recognizable name. The weeks they spend on the show become a sort of resume for them, and more contestants should think of the show as not the quest to become a superstar (as the show was initially conceived), but a long running job interview. Through their intro packages and interview with hosts/judges, we get to know their personality. Their song choices show us the style and range of their abilities.
David Cook was the first Idol I heard speak of his Idol arc and conscious journey via song selection. He has talked about his purposeful choice to show diverse styles while still highlighting his singing ability. Adam Lambert similarly alternated fast and slow songs from week to week as a sort of concert set list. Idol contestants should break the mindset of "what song will get me through to the next week" and instead think "what song best exemplifies myself as a musical artist." Katherine McPhee can attest to song choices that follow them years later; her premiere in the new show Smash last night had her singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow, one of her highest praised performances that season. McPhee has embraced the Broadway bombshell belter box that Idol put her in over 5 years ago.
I think it can become incredibly difficult for these contestants to see the long game. Melinda Doolittle frequently mentions to Michael Slezack on their tvline show Idology that Idols second guess their musical choices, whether it be the song or simply how many notes to sing. When producers tell you that every week you set foot on stage could be your last, the desperation can lead less confident singers to constantly choose ballads and pour on the melismas. We have to think of the age range of these contestants 15-28; many are still working out who they are as people, let alone their musical sensibilities. Faced with an incredibly short time frame to practice and perfect a 2:00+ song every week, they rely heavily on previously learned songs whenever possible. Many contestants said they simply didn't have the time to rework their songs because they just needed to memorize the words. So some in desperation will also look to their musical idols to influence their style, and we see the loss of individual personality in the whirlwind of the Idol machine.
In the post-Idol world, those contestants who are compared to other musical acts frequently struggle to find gainful employment for a time (with Pia Toscano, aka Celine Dion/Whittney Houston 2.0, being the obvious exception). It seems to be easier in the post-Idol world for contestants who stand their own ground with their own distinct style. Kellie Pickler's home-grown country, dumb blonde charm has led her to hosting gigs and recording contracts. It hasn't been completely smooth sailing for Blake Lewis, but his beat boxing and techno aesthetic has translated to multiple dance club hits. Both Haley Reinhardt and Casey Abrams have been signed to record contracts; these contestants from last season both insisted on arranging songs the way they felt best and had quite a number of "toned down" performances, contrary to the typical idol style.
The Voice is an amazing spectacle. I'm still not completely sold on the show, but I appreciate one outgrowth of its shtick. That show sees many more seasoned performers, older musicians who have worked the menial jobs singers have to endure (empty bars, weddings, etc). Upon arrival on The Voice stage, these contestants are able to be true to their artists' aesthetic sensibilities because, well, it's likely they're quite stubborn and set in their ways. I don't like the stereotypical choices and pigeon-holing, but The Voice has a greater pulse on the diversity of musical genres permeating American society. As it stands, Idol still follows musical trends (rock artists emerging in the wake of a surge of rock music popularity and this past season, country/pop musicians being winner and runner up in our new Taylor Swift-ian world). So if on Idol we could see more contestants being true to their musical aesthetics and not loosing themselves in the stress of the situation, then we might actually have a competition that can shape popular musical aesthetics. But regardless of bigger picture significations of Idol, I hope this season's crop of contestants can look at the bigger picture and give us a definitive picture of who they are as musicians. They can be so much more than just their voice.
But if you look at method of musical dissemination, expectations of musical performances, a revitalization of the "American songbook," and the creation of a new generation of quasi-recognizable musical acts, then Idol has changed American musical society a great deal.
Without getting into my list above too much, I want to discuss the soundbite that didn't make it into the press release because I think one thing will "stand the test of time" longer than anything else when we talk about American Idol in the history books. The All-New Mickey Mouse Club that ran in the 1990s today is remembered for the stars it produced, both actors and singers. And I know Idol's format is inherently much different than MMC, but it is very similar in the amount of viable, competent singers that Idol has produced. 4 of the last 5 Super Bowl's national anthems were sung by former Idol contestants. Former Idols have gone on to win Grammys and an Oscar. They star on Broadway and series television. They become radio hosts and television correspondents. Idol allows musicians enough screen time to become a recognizable name. The weeks they spend on the show become a sort of resume for them, and more contestants should think of the show as not the quest to become a superstar (as the show was initially conceived), but a long running job interview. Through their intro packages and interview with hosts/judges, we get to know their personality. Their song choices show us the style and range of their abilities.
David Cook was the first Idol I heard speak of his Idol arc and conscious journey via song selection. He has talked about his purposeful choice to show diverse styles while still highlighting his singing ability. Adam Lambert similarly alternated fast and slow songs from week to week as a sort of concert set list. Idol contestants should break the mindset of "what song will get me through to the next week" and instead think "what song best exemplifies myself as a musical artist." Katherine McPhee can attest to song choices that follow them years later; her premiere in the new show Smash last night had her singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow, one of her highest praised performances that season. McPhee has embraced the Broadway bombshell belter box that Idol put her in over 5 years ago.
I think it can become incredibly difficult for these contestants to see the long game. Melinda Doolittle frequently mentions to Michael Slezack on their tvline show Idology that Idols second guess their musical choices, whether it be the song or simply how many notes to sing. When producers tell you that every week you set foot on stage could be your last, the desperation can lead less confident singers to constantly choose ballads and pour on the melismas. We have to think of the age range of these contestants 15-28; many are still working out who they are as people, let alone their musical sensibilities. Faced with an incredibly short time frame to practice and perfect a 2:00+ song every week, they rely heavily on previously learned songs whenever possible. Many contestants said they simply didn't have the time to rework their songs because they just needed to memorize the words. So some in desperation will also look to their musical idols to influence their style, and we see the loss of individual personality in the whirlwind of the Idol machine.
In the post-Idol world, those contestants who are compared to other musical acts frequently struggle to find gainful employment for a time (with Pia Toscano, aka Celine Dion/Whittney Houston 2.0, being the obvious exception). It seems to be easier in the post-Idol world for contestants who stand their own ground with their own distinct style. Kellie Pickler's home-grown country, dumb blonde charm has led her to hosting gigs and recording contracts. It hasn't been completely smooth sailing for Blake Lewis, but his beat boxing and techno aesthetic has translated to multiple dance club hits. Both Haley Reinhardt and Casey Abrams have been signed to record contracts; these contestants from last season both insisted on arranging songs the way they felt best and had quite a number of "toned down" performances, contrary to the typical idol style.
The Voice is an amazing spectacle. I'm still not completely sold on the show, but I appreciate one outgrowth of its shtick. That show sees many more seasoned performers, older musicians who have worked the menial jobs singers have to endure (empty bars, weddings, etc). Upon arrival on The Voice stage, these contestants are able to be true to their artists' aesthetic sensibilities because, well, it's likely they're quite stubborn and set in their ways. I don't like the stereotypical choices and pigeon-holing, but The Voice has a greater pulse on the diversity of musical genres permeating American society. As it stands, Idol still follows musical trends (rock artists emerging in the wake of a surge of rock music popularity and this past season, country/pop musicians being winner and runner up in our new Taylor Swift-ian world). So if on Idol we could see more contestants being true to their musical aesthetics and not loosing themselves in the stress of the situation, then we might actually have a competition that can shape popular musical aesthetics. But regardless of bigger picture significations of Idol, I hope this season's crop of contestants can look at the bigger picture and give us a definitive picture of who they are as musicians. They can be so much more than just their voice.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
why I do what I do.... gender and time
I'm taking a women's studies course this semester. My first formally theoretical look at gender through the eyes of a sociologist. While it's a step above my last gender class (taught by an art prof that turned into 'let's talk about our feelings as women'), it's still a little too topical for my tastes (burquas, female circumcision, birth control). I want to dive into Judith Butler people. Still I guess it's an alright "introduction" and survey for most, and I accept that this is really just a mark on my CV... yes I actually took women's studies courses, it wasn't all self-taught.
The one thing that has come out of this course (aside from my liberation from research papers.... I'll be doing a feminist art piece this semester instead), is that it has provoked questions in me of why I focus so much on gender as a scholar. I was raised in conservative West Texas. I should have the big hair, large turquoise jewelry, and have 4 kids by now (an image made painfully aware since my 10 year high school reunion is coming up).
The professor asks us about gender in our childhood, giving the anecdote of her playing football as a child. That dug up tons of memories and everything started making sense. Growing up in small-town football-obsessed Texas, you are taught from infancy that on Fridays you wear your high school team's colors. By grade school, every Friday has mock football games on the playground, with the girls *literally* in baby cheerleading outfits and the guys in little football jerseys. [If your parents don't costume you to the occasion, they'll dress you in a shirt of the proper color, frequently with your mascot emblazioned on it.] I typically played football... I wanted to be a center- in control of the ball, in control of protecting the quarterback. Solid in stature, steadfast rock of the offensive line. Quite symbolic actually..... So in second grade I asked my mother for a football jersey-- not the typical little girl request of a cheerleading skirt. It just now hit me that I never got one, and I asked mom last week why that was. Occasionally she would postpone my outrageous requests and I would get over such things. But she tells me that in this case, they couldn't find a jersey that would fit me. I was just a too tiny little girl. Oh well. At least I had the sentiment.
There were other tell-tale signs... After joining band in middle school, I decided that someday I'd be the first girl to join the cowboy band at a nearby small university. But even before grade school began, I watched He-Man more than She-Ra and enacted my "master of the universe" fantasies in my treehouse with my *male* imaginary friend. I wore dresses because that's what you do to church, and really I've never had a problem with dressing feminine when the occasion arose. But I'd much rather be in boots and jeans. And I still would rather not wear makeup. All the women in my family weren't overly feminine. All the women I looked up to were strong and fiercely independent.
So perhaps that's why today I focus on projections of femininity. I live for RuPaul's drag race because of the gendered language and dichotomies. I cringe at the thought of having a child someday and have to deal with color-coded baby showers. I love the idea of women who were doing somewhat subversive acts while outwardly appearing ridiculously feminine as to appease musical culture. (Think about it-- Jenny Lind, Cecile Chaminade-- women without children and real romantic attachments at their most public time of their lives-- were performing in large public concert venues for thousands of men and women-- in an era that demanded they go home and stay there to make babies.)
I want to see how other women negotiated being women. Especially since I can relate to women like Chaminade... I don't go out and do slut walks or perform in the Vagina Monologues... I'm not an outspoken feminist. But I find a way to manage my ideals of gender within the expected gender ideals of the era while still feeling true to myself. So then the next question is why I'm focusing on this time period. And this summer I asked myself why I was going to do a dissertation on the same time period and the same general subject-- gender in fin de siecle America, 1880-1930. And we return again to my childhood. I grew up watching Anne of Green Gables on the Disney channel. I was obsessed with the Titanic for a while. My mother loved Gibson Girls and had prints all over her art studio. So there we go. A theme and a time frame.
Moral of this post?? Our childhood defines us. Sometimes in good ways, sometimes not quite so good. But it helps shape what we become. Helps mold our beliefs for later in life. And I'm happy with the way this all (life, dissertation) has turned out.
The one thing that has come out of this course (aside from my liberation from research papers.... I'll be doing a feminist art piece this semester instead), is that it has provoked questions in me of why I focus so much on gender as a scholar. I was raised in conservative West Texas. I should have the big hair, large turquoise jewelry, and have 4 kids by now (an image made painfully aware since my 10 year high school reunion is coming up).
The professor asks us about gender in our childhood, giving the anecdote of her playing football as a child. That dug up tons of memories and everything started making sense. Growing up in small-town football-obsessed Texas, you are taught from infancy that on Fridays you wear your high school team's colors. By grade school, every Friday has mock football games on the playground, with the girls *literally* in baby cheerleading outfits and the guys in little football jerseys. [If your parents don't costume you to the occasion, they'll dress you in a shirt of the proper color, frequently with your mascot emblazioned on it.] I typically played football... I wanted to be a center- in control of the ball, in control of protecting the quarterback. Solid in stature, steadfast rock of the offensive line. Quite symbolic actually..... So in second grade I asked my mother for a football jersey-- not the typical little girl request of a cheerleading skirt. It just now hit me that I never got one, and I asked mom last week why that was. Occasionally she would postpone my outrageous requests and I would get over such things. But she tells me that in this case, they couldn't find a jersey that would fit me. I was just a too tiny little girl. Oh well. At least I had the sentiment.
There were other tell-tale signs... After joining band in middle school, I decided that someday I'd be the first girl to join the cowboy band at a nearby small university. But even before grade school began, I watched He-Man more than She-Ra and enacted my "master of the universe" fantasies in my treehouse with my *male* imaginary friend. I wore dresses because that's what you do to church, and really I've never had a problem with dressing feminine when the occasion arose. But I'd much rather be in boots and jeans. And I still would rather not wear makeup. All the women in my family weren't overly feminine. All the women I looked up to were strong and fiercely independent.
So perhaps that's why today I focus on projections of femininity. I live for RuPaul's drag race because of the gendered language and dichotomies. I cringe at the thought of having a child someday and have to deal with color-coded baby showers. I love the idea of women who were doing somewhat subversive acts while outwardly appearing ridiculously feminine as to appease musical culture. (Think about it-- Jenny Lind, Cecile Chaminade-- women without children and real romantic attachments at their most public time of their lives-- were performing in large public concert venues for thousands of men and women-- in an era that demanded they go home and stay there to make babies.)
I want to see how other women negotiated being women. Especially since I can relate to women like Chaminade... I don't go out and do slut walks or perform in the Vagina Monologues... I'm not an outspoken feminist. But I find a way to manage my ideals of gender within the expected gender ideals of the era while still feeling true to myself. So then the next question is why I'm focusing on this time period. And this summer I asked myself why I was going to do a dissertation on the same time period and the same general subject-- gender in fin de siecle America, 1880-1930. And we return again to my childhood. I grew up watching Anne of Green Gables on the Disney channel. I was obsessed with the Titanic for a while. My mother loved Gibson Girls and had prints all over her art studio. So there we go. A theme and a time frame.
Moral of this post?? Our childhood defines us. Sometimes in good ways, sometimes not quite so good. But it helps shape what we become. Helps mold our beliefs for later in life. And I'm happy with the way this all (life, dissertation) has turned out.
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