What Does It Mean To Be A Woman?

Grace Edwards

Switch on the television, read a magazine or simply look around; contradictory messages about women are everywhere. The commercial media would have us believe ‘women’ are all blonde, busty, bronzed, ‘girly’ dependents, whilst history would teach us that women fall into two categories: the eternal virgin or the mother/wife/homemaker.

Frankly, I don’t buy that. Neither does any other woman I know.

I believe that to be a woman therefore is, first and foremost, to be an interpreter.

I am constantly amazed at the creative ways in which the women around me express their own brand of femininity. And of course, it’s more than just symbolic; navigating the waters of social acceptability is a particularly perilous task for women, whether out at a function or going for that job promotion.

I love the quote in bold. I think it reflects exactly what we have been saying in our sessions about the importance of listening in conversation.

Also I'm getting very excited about the performance now and the shrine 

Forgive me Germaine...

So, I shared this story last week, but I'll repeat it in case anyone wants to write a confession around it. 

When I was 14 my ex-boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend of the time, Donna. He then broke up with her and told everyone he loved me... Now technically Donna sinned... but I broke the laws of sisterhood also, by rejoicing in getting one over on her, rather than uniting with her against the heartless boy.  I still can't think of her without wanting to mutter 'bitch' under my breath.

I think that one of the biggest sins a lady can commit against the sisterhood is using a word like 'bitch' or 'slut' or 'slag'.  Language like that is a way of controlling how women behave, usually insulting women for having sexual confidence.  More than any offensive language, these are the words I reserve for when I'm really angry, and I feel guilty for uttering them.


Jen

An Effigy of Germaine

As part of my home work I thought I'd look up different images of Germaine Greer to decorate Germaine's shrine.

I think I just hit the flaming jackpot guys. Feel free to be not as excited as me but look at this:

http://westendwhingers.wordpress.com/2008/07/20/the-whingers-do-winehouse-amy-in-vegetables/

It's only a picture of A POTATO decorated as Germaine Greer!!! Genius, it's a sign!!!

I've been thinking about food buffets, partly because our experience has involved eating strawberries and chatting and also it's something which fits an interval. What do you do in a performance interval - you go to the loo and you (after washing your hands) go and get a drink and some snacks. We could have an entire themed food trolley!! The bar could serve bloody marys called "my friend said that Germaine said you're not a real feminist until you taste your own period blood". (I just explained this idea to my housemate who added "and the room should be lit by the flames of burning bras") Or maybe we should just have a Germaine shaped potato effigy in the shrine, and I should calm myself down. Either/or.

What I really love about Germaine's shrine making something comic from the stereotype of Germaine being a feminist Idol. I don't know if she is. She isn't my idol.

I feel very comfortable about us concluding that we have no fixed conclusions about what feminism is, what it should be now and how we should respond to the challenge we set ourselves. In fact I feel more confident about having no conclusions. I think part of the performance should include talking, if we are having a discussion, about what the new word for feminism is. I think the performance about conversation should include a genuine conversation with an audience, who feel comfortable contributing.

On the topic of finding GG photos, there are some great google images we can download. I'll bring as many objects in as possible tomorrow

Jen

Our performance

I have been thinking a lot this week about our performance piece and to what extent it manifests the sessions and workshops we have done so far.

I think it's really interesting to see what has come about, and where it has generated from. Initially I worried that what we had come up with didn't quite reflect the nature of 'conversation' and particularly gendered conversation as intended, but the more I think about it, the more it seems to make sense...

The Germaine Greer shrine... great, a good bit of fun and almost a celebration and a finger in the air for feminism... hitting the accusation of being aggressive and in your face head on by being knowingly and celebratorily(?) so...

The confessional aspect - I have been thinking a lot recently about the confessional nature of some of my personal conversations (particularly with Sarah who unfortunately for her has to deal with my verbal dhiarrhoea)... to an extent I have found these workshops quite confessional, much more than I thought they would be given my initial apprehensions about attending a session full of women.

The sound recordings - these for me hint at the notion that not all conversation is experienced directly and physically, and particularly in a modern age this is quite an important thing to address and explore. I think there is potential for more 'interpretive' performance here, perhaps in the way we respond to the recording (as discussed) and interpret the non-physical presence with our own physical presence

Also with the tape and the confessions - the notions of stories (particularly personal stories) and how these are so important for conversation and in particular female conversation and the notion of sharing

The gestural element - I think it's really importnat to explore the physical element of conversation and there is further scope here. Something Sarah and I have been discussing is the potential of an additional intermission piece in which we sit and have a conversation in the bar, but over gesticulate in a mirrored fashion...

The comedy aspect, the playing with conventions, the stealing of a recognisable format so as to subvert and challenge.

But perhaps where is the tradtional conversational element? I am keen to address this, but don't really have any suggestions and am anxious at how forced this may seem (I'm also not personally happy to perform myself as I'm not a perfromer)... but mabe a forced and strained conversation, or one plyed out with characters and types might address the notion that conversation is always performed, and roles are always played...

I'm also a bit anxious about how we end... hopefully we'll have lots of brainwaves tomorrow to top it off beautifully!

Ah, I don't know! I'm just waffling horribly!

See you all tomorrow!

Michelle x

AoC Thursday 5th May

MEMBERS OF AOC WE HAVE THE WORKSPACE FROM 5PM THIS WEEK STOP WILL HAVE RECORDING EQUIPMENT SET UP FOR THEN STOP HOPE TO SEE YOU STOP

I saw this ...

It was on a wall in Amsterdam. I wonder what Germaine would say about it ...

Kirstin x

It's better to ask than assume.

On Thursday we were asked (Don't quote me on the exact wording - I have a fish brain) whether we have ever failed ourselves as women, or failed woman kind.
I pondered.
I had stories of women that had failed me, but none of my own (Or that I was willing to dig around in my fish brain for)
So I went home, and pondered some more.
Just before midnight, I received a text message 'are you asleep or can you ring me' off my best friend.
I called her.
She told me she was pregnant.
She told me she was around nine month pregnant.
I waited 25 minutes for a taxi.
We drank coffee and discussed the situation. There was denial, humour, anger, laughter, happiness, sadness and frustration.
People had asked me if she was pregnant, and I'd said
'No, if she was, she would have told me. I think she's just put on weight like i have'
The next day we heard the baby's heartbeat at the hospital.
It all became very real.
How had my best friend carried a baby for nine months without me noticing.
I asked her 'If I'd asked you if you were pregnant months ago, would you have admitted it'
'Yes' she replied.
And that was the moment my heart sank and I realised I'd failed as a woman, and I'd failed my best friend.
I'd seen her at least twice a week as of November. How had I not noticed? Why hadn't I just asked her, instead of making up excuses for her about eating too many chips?
Looking at her there in the hospital bed, her beautiful pregnant tummy was obvious.
She'd suffered in silence, not knowing what to do, or who to turn to since she'd realised in January.. Waiting for me to just ask her, so she could admit it to me and to herself.


I'm waiting for a phone call to go to the hospital and be her birthing partner (Without antenatal classes)
She's having a boy.