V-day: a haven for expression

In the midst of my "sophomore slump," I tried out for The Vagina Monologues on a friend's recommendation. I went to the first read-through for the show and suddenly my uncontrollable enthusiasm morphed into a panic attack. "I just volunteered to spend a lot of time with 15 women," I thought. "And I don't really like women."

I always got along better with guys than I did with girls. I like hockey and beer and chicken wings. My sarcasm and politically incorrect sense of humor did not seem to fit in with a troupe of overly sensitive femi-nazis -- or such was my impression of them at the time. I was sure that I would never find my place in this mix, and that while I would enjoy working in the theater again, I would never become a true "Vagina." How wrong I was.

I still believe that I tend to get along better with guys than girls and I do not consider myself a political activist in any way, shape or form. But somehow, in the course of a month and half, I became close friends with the very girls whom I feared at that first read-through. What I always marvel at how these friendships have stayed intact, despite how different we all were... and are.

The problem on this campus is that so many people are so involved in what they do that it creates a divide between people in the student body. It is hard to feel a sense of community at Tufts because many communities are isolated from each other. The women I met during my time as a Vagina were people I would never have otherwise come into contact with during the rest of my Tufts life. One was an Oxfam manager, one a drama major, another a rugby player... the list goes on. Somehow, the show superceded the separations we felt elsewhere. I found, for the first time, a diverse unified community at Tufts.

As this year's Vagina Monologues director has said, "the play is about home." It is about coming home to your body, about coming home to yourself, about embracing all those parts of you that are female, or embracing the women around you whom you love. I found that I had more in common than I thought with the Oxfam manager and the rugby player. believe it speaks to the universality of the show's message that it draws such a diverse group of women. I suddenly found myself 'at home', in a way I had never thought possible before. I learned to embrace different sides of myself.

I realized that the reason I had always gotten along better with guys than girls was because I had always neglected parts of myself that are female, for fear of being labeled a "feminist.". For me, my entire experience is summarized in one line from the show: "C*nt. I've reclaimed it." Instead of fearing being labeled something, I decided to own it.

As the stage manager for this year's show, it has been truly incredible to watch the cast come together. Lacrosse players, Essence singers, Trunkers, and track runners have found themselves unified by the force of this play -- a force that everyone male or female can identify with on some level. After the show, the cast, the crew, and every person in the audience finds themselves home, because that's what the Monologues is about. There is a common ground between us that somehow V-Day has managed to bring to the forefront.

The V-Day slogan is "Until the Violence Stops." People often misinterpret this idea. They believe that this slogan implies that the show alone is the solution to the problem of violence against women. It's not. The play gives us a common ground on which we can begin dialogue, a home where we can express ourselves.

Every year, there are a myriad of responses to the show -- some good, some bad, and some just confused. Regardless of the response, I believe that The Vagina Monologues has done its part if people are talking at all. It makes us think, reevaluate, and it gives us a forum in which we can express ourselves that is otherwise inaccessible. Now in its fourth year, the show still provides this much-needed forum on a very divided campus, bringing background issues to the forefront.