What it feels like for a girl

This past week a semi-hero of mine died. Wendy Wasserstein - playwright, feminist, humorist - is no longer with us. Her fan base was quite dedicated even if the critics weren't always impressed. Personally, I loved her themes and her characters even if I thought she stopped short of delving deeper, delivering a slap where a hook was needed. Still, she showed that women writing about women needn't be resigned to a life serving on fringe festival panels and doing community theater, that there was a universal truth to the female human story and that one doesn't need to subscribe to the life of SUVs and marriage and child rearing in order to be fulfilled. She even put in the thought that perhaps it was better that we didn't.

I look around at the women leaders and thinkers we have out there and I'm really... well, sad. Sure the Maureen Dowd's can turn a phrase and the Martha's can help you find your inner domestic goddess and the Oprah's can help you streamline your emotions/ purchases/ thoughts/ life so that it's all rosy and fun, but we've come to placate more than we liberate and smooth more than we ruffle. My own days as a more active feminist involved posting quotes and stats all over lower Manhattan to get people to talk and think. It involved pointing out patriarchy and bullshit. It involved saying "I'm ok without you, foo". When I learned of Wendy's death I immediately thought of her plays, and then of their limitations. Still, she moved things forward and that act deserves to be recognized. She didn't stand in the safe sidelines critiquing others' works. She didn't steer from the complications of life in order to be happy, or as a way to market herself as The Grand Answer Holder. She was flawed, but there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

A friend of mine spoofed my blog in an email to me once, riddling it with unanswerable questions. I do throw out a lot of those and I think Wendy did too. Call it feminism. See, I think that seeing one's self as the final answer is so incredibly infested with testosterone that I can't see the screen for my eyes rolling back so far. There are far too many blogs (written largely by men) dedicated to throwing out the person's opinion (however witless) about some grandiose issue. This person, this Cube Dweller, knows the answer though. Just ask. Or don't ask... he'll post anyway. This is not to say I find women's blogs to be a lot better. No, those are often sad songs about dieting woes, dating mishaps or (and this kills me) product endorsements. They don't encourage enlightenment or being a more open person or discuss the complications of their personal life. No, they encourage their readers to be more vain and image obsessed. A decade ago, in a room of feminists, if someone said "are you hot?" the group answer would be "who the fuck cares?" Now, even among the more vocal, educated and opinionated women out there, the answer would be "I sure hope so". Am I alone in finding this a problem?

Coming back from Peace Corps gave me a fresh take on American life. Once something of a political junkie, I admit that I now find caring a problem. Coming back and scanning the channels filled with political and business leaders, I immediately noted their sunken faces and deep lines and lifeless eyes and my first thought was "that's what your face looks like when you spend your life trying to control everything that isn't yours and avoid what is". Sure, it's a generalization, but it was my first reaction and it was as clear as could be. Everyone wears their history on their face. Some are just better mask makers than others. In my days in feminist meetings we had a "this is me, take it or leave it" attitude. I miss living in a world where people are like that, one where people are political about things that affect them directly, not in an attempt to manhandle the lives of others. Now, people just want to rule and be liked and are unabashedly willing to become whatever is needed to make that happen.

I realized while abroad that as much as the path to political or business success was alluring, the people I really respected were those that were out there living their lives and following their passions and just... leaving the mask at home. There are people who've done both, but I've met so very few of them. In a world where we drug every mental and physical problem, strive to exceed the Joneses and "present" ourselves to all but a select few, it was inspiring to know that there was one more person out there. One more person not afraid of the answers, so she didn't have to control them. She was more into the questions. In a world full of answers and answerers, I ask this: where have the maskless questioners gone?