I'm not sure what, if anything, this says about me but upon reading last week's post, I have a new point of view about being a woman in a typically male-dominated field:
"That's right. I can do all of this AND create a human being. And you?"
Ummmm....yeah. How's that for honesty?
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
On being the Sound Guy
Boobs.
Let's just get the boob thing out of the way. I have them. Yup, I do and you don't. Boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs.
Not only do I HAVE boobs... but sometimes? Sometimes I take them to work and my boobs and I sit behind a lot of very expensive and complicated equipment. And then I operate all of it. And this? THIS IS NOT CUTE. This is not sexy, this is not funny, or special, or something uniquely amazing. This is just a person doing a job they are trained to do.
There. Good.
The second most frequently asked question I answer at intermission (the first being "Where are the bathrooms?") is, "Do you operate ALL OF THAT?" This is a question asked exclusively by men. Sometimes I get genuinely curious and friendly people. I love when that happens. People are really excited by theatre and I'm the only one out there they can approach. So I talk to them. Sometimes its great. Sometimes I get parents with their kids who are just starting to do theatre at school. Those are my favorite intermissions.
I don't mind being asked what I do or how I do it. But the men who ask if I know how to use ALL! THAT! EQUIPMENT! deserve to get kicked in the nuts. It is asked in the tone of voice you would use to praise a toddler the first time he or she pooped in the big kid potty. Well gee, sir. It sure is hard. What with all these fancy computers and buttons. Of course I know how to use it! No one would ever walk up to a big burly male op and ask if he knew how to use all the equipment in front of him. Because, I assume, it isn't shocking to see a man sitting in front of an array of computers and gear.
Yesterday, a (married, I assume) couple came up to me at intermission. They were wearing matching red reindeer sweaters:
Husband: So you must be the sound man! (Big laugh)
Me: (sigh, pretend to laugh.) Well, I do get referred to as the sound guy all the time.
Wife: *blinkblink* *smile*
H: She (meaning Wife) asked if I had seen where the sound man was. I said I had. She said, "Is he cute?" I said, "SHE sure is!" Ha ha ha!
Wife: Teehee *blinkblink*
Ummmmmmm.... did I just get hit on by a couple in matching Christmas sweaters WHILE WORKING? This would so never happen to a man. The part that really got to me was that the only polite response left to me was to laugh back and say thank you. That's humiliating. I am not here for your amusement. I am not a piece of meat.
I'm really struggling with polite responses lately. I'm having a hard time understand and accepting the way women are expected to interface with society. And let's just ban the word "feminism" here because this is not about what that word implies. This is not about oppression or activism or hairy pits or Rosie the Riveter. But yes. I am a woman and I am pissed off about the way I am expected to act. I am pissed off that people think its impressive that I do what I do. It is not any harder for me than it would be for a male version of myself. I don't want to joke about being a woman. Its not funny.
Most of all, when someone makes a wholly inappropriate remark about my sexuality and my appearance, I want to be able to be pissed off. But my role in this society is to avoid conflict at all costs. Women are to provide comfort, to smooth things over, to permit the transgressions of men, to accept that they are eye candy. A woman's accomplishments cannot easily be distinguished from her sexuality.
Everything else I type just turns into rhetoric. Because what I'm fed up with too ubiquitous to even distinguish. Its just accepted. I need to find the words that turn this into a coherent thought and not just the venting of anger. Until I find them, this is what I've got.
Let's just get the boob thing out of the way. I have them. Yup, I do and you don't. Boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs.
Not only do I HAVE boobs... but sometimes? Sometimes I take them to work and my boobs and I sit behind a lot of very expensive and complicated equipment. And then I operate all of it. And this? THIS IS NOT CUTE. This is not sexy, this is not funny, or special, or something uniquely amazing. This is just a person doing a job they are trained to do.
There. Good.
The second most frequently asked question I answer at intermission (the first being "Where are the bathrooms?") is, "Do you operate ALL OF THAT?" This is a question asked exclusively by men. Sometimes I get genuinely curious and friendly people. I love when that happens. People are really excited by theatre and I'm the only one out there they can approach. So I talk to them. Sometimes its great. Sometimes I get parents with their kids who are just starting to do theatre at school. Those are my favorite intermissions.
I don't mind being asked what I do or how I do it. But the men who ask if I know how to use ALL! THAT! EQUIPMENT! deserve to get kicked in the nuts. It is asked in the tone of voice you would use to praise a toddler the first time he or she pooped in the big kid potty. Well gee, sir. It sure is hard. What with all these fancy computers and buttons. Of course I know how to use it! No one would ever walk up to a big burly male op and ask if he knew how to use all the equipment in front of him. Because, I assume, it isn't shocking to see a man sitting in front of an array of computers and gear.
Yesterday, a (married, I assume) couple came up to me at intermission. They were wearing matching red reindeer sweaters:
Husband: So you must be the sound man! (Big laugh)
Me: (sigh, pretend to laugh.) Well, I do get referred to as the sound guy all the time.
Wife: *blinkblink* *smile*
H: She (meaning Wife) asked if I had seen where the sound man was. I said I had. She said, "Is he cute?" I said, "SHE sure is!" Ha ha ha!
Wife: Teehee *blinkblink*
Ummmmmmm.... did I just get hit on by a couple in matching Christmas sweaters WHILE WORKING? This would so never happen to a man. The part that really got to me was that the only polite response left to me was to laugh back and say thank you. That's humiliating. I am not here for your amusement. I am not a piece of meat.
I'm really struggling with polite responses lately. I'm having a hard time understand and accepting the way women are expected to interface with society. And let's just ban the word "feminism" here because this is not about what that word implies. This is not about oppression or activism or hairy pits or Rosie the Riveter. But yes. I am a woman and I am pissed off about the way I am expected to act. I am pissed off that people think its impressive that I do what I do. It is not any harder for me than it would be for a male version of myself. I don't want to joke about being a woman. Its not funny.
Most of all, when someone makes a wholly inappropriate remark about my sexuality and my appearance, I want to be able to be pissed off. But my role in this society is to avoid conflict at all costs. Women are to provide comfort, to smooth things over, to permit the transgressions of men, to accept that they are eye candy. A woman's accomplishments cannot easily be distinguished from her sexuality.
Everything else I type just turns into rhetoric. Because what I'm fed up with too ubiquitous to even distinguish. Its just accepted. I need to find the words that turn this into a coherent thought and not just the venting of anger. Until I find them, this is what I've got.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
I am an imperfect person
I do not update this blog regularly - only when I have something that needs writing.
I will probably not respond to your email right away. But I will respond.
I will definitely not return your call right away, especially if we haven't spoken in a while. It makes me very anxious. Sometimes, I wait so long that I become actually afraid to call you. And that turns into a fear that I cannot call you.
I will lose touch with you for periods of time. But I will always apologize.
Sometimes a person must accept their own faults with some compassion.
After what feels like a lifetime of "working on it" - fixing myself, I am exhausted. It is time for compassion. For others, and for myself.
Give me the benefit of the doubt, please.
I am highly imperfect. We all are.
I will probably not respond to your email right away. But I will respond.
I will definitely not return your call right away, especially if we haven't spoken in a while. It makes me very anxious. Sometimes, I wait so long that I become actually afraid to call you. And that turns into a fear that I cannot call you.
I will lose touch with you for periods of time. But I will always apologize.
Sometimes a person must accept their own faults with some compassion.
After what feels like a lifetime of "working on it" - fixing myself, I am exhausted. It is time for compassion. For others, and for myself.
Give me the benefit of the doubt, please.
I am highly imperfect. We all are.
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