As I sit in the park pretending to study, I find myself torn over a decision of grave importance: What am I going to do with the mop of dead skin cells on top of my head? Should I embrace its dishwater-blonde locks, or go bald?

If you know anything about me, the vast difference between those two choices won't surprise you. I am an extremist in all things, diving headfirst into one end of the pool before jumping out and dashing to the other side. My mother called it borderline personality disorder; I like to think of it as an eclectic taste.

It’s been years since my roots showed their true colors. I’ve been black, red, purple, even green, doing all in my power to hide my true origins. One day, however, after applying every color of the spectrum to my scalp, the hippie within urged me to turn natural. (I did mention extremism, right?) Due to the massive amount of chemicals my head absorbed, it’s taken some time for my hair to return to the light, golden-hay color I remember. Now that I’m almost there, another desire has been prickling my cranium...

Bald.

I’ve been drawn to free, naked skinheads for as long as I can recall. The moment has never been right to join their numbers, until now. WISPIRG, a student organization on campus, is raising money for Darfur. If we succeed in earning $1,000 from poor- albeit generous- students, two other girls and myself have agreed to shave our heads at a benefit concert. Come to the show, bring a can of food for the local shelter, and witness three average college kids transforming into Gandhian skinheads for peace.

Praising Vaginas for Sexual Assault Victims

Photo courtesy www.genderstudies.nl.

Vaginas have taken over my life! As the outreach coordinator of the Women’s Resource Center in Stevens Point, I was the executive producer, actor, director’s assistant, and publicity promoter for this year’s rendition of The Vagina Monologues. I’ve sold pussy-shaped Popsicles, (not the cat kind,) attempted to calm overzealous feminists, printed one thousand posters... but it was all worth it.

Eve Ensler, the writer of The Vagina Monologues, was fed up with the belief that females should suppress their sexuality. She asked girls, grandmas, Africans, Jews, Christians, Atheists, people from around the world about their sexuality and, more specifically, vagina. What she created out of their stories is an amazing piece of history. Although the show is a comedy, it covers several dark issues. In “Say It,” a seventy-year old Japanese woman describes how she was forced to be a comfort woman for the soldiers of the Second World War. Female genital mutilation is also addressed. Roughly three million girls have their clitoris removed every year. It’s a painful, dangerous procedure, and often results in death.

As a Westerner, I find it difficult to understand why a woman would complacently accept this horrid violation. For this reason, I chose it as my monologue. I delivered the “Not So Happy Fact” at the Dreyfus Theatre last Saturday. The audience was so stunned it took them several moments to applaud. (At least, I think it was because they were stunned. Hopefully my lack of acting talent had nothing to do with it.) After hearing about such tragedies, the crowd needed a boost. Thank the Goddess for the cheerful monologues! One woman describes how a healthy relationship with a man helped her fall in love with her vagina. Another rants about why her vagina is PISSED OFF. Both were silly, but had a powerful message behind the humor.

The event was good, (mostly) clean fun, and the cause was even better. The Women’s Resource Center donated the proceeds to SAVS, the Sexual Assault Victims Services. We raised $3,000!

Insightful, entertaining, moving... The Vagina Monologues is many things. Most of all it’s empowering. Women around the world have been liberated thanks to Eve Ensler’s play. I’m proud of the role I had the honor of performing in this year’s production at Stevens Point, and look forward to being a part of the audience next year.