Happy Snow Day--from Madison, WI :)
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This is a little late, but I wanted to write a short something about a classmate of mine who passed away a couple of weeks ago. His name was Charlie, and he was, at the risk of sounding cliche, one-of-a-kind. I first met Charlie in elementary school. I remember him being big in height, big in intelligence, and big in humor--everything about him was loud and expressive. He wore large glasses as a kid, and was often teased. Back in the early 90s, the awareness of bullying was not there. Bullying was just an expected part of adolescence. Charlie was intellectually above all of us, and we knew it. I think this is one of the reasons he was often teased, and though sometimes he was visibly affected by the teasing (who wouldn't be?), he often seemed stoic and unaffected by it. I always admired this quality about him. Throughout school, I was never high up on the popular totem pole. I wasn't bullied, but rather, I was more so ignored or in the background. When people did say things to me--mean things, of course--I couldn't let it go. I couldn't joke about it like Charlie could. When Charlie would laugh--especially after being teased, I always felt like he knew something the rest of us didn't. He knew how pointless it all was. He knew that the rest of us were not at his level of intelligence.
I recently came across an article on one of my favorite blogs, Sociological Images, called "The Gender Politics of the Dollhouse" by Lisa Wade, PhD. In her article, Wade analyzes this ancient toy in its various forms. Reading the article prompted me to think about my own experience with dollhouses growing up. I was never a "girly-girl," but I did enjoy "playing house" when I was little. I had one of those kid kitchens that I spent hours making pretend grilled cheese for my older brother and I. It seemed only natural that this type of "playing house" would transform into playing house-in-a-dollhouse (deep, I know).
As some might know, my Master’s degree is in Women’s & Gender Studies. I’m also unapologetically (and proudly) a feminist. This identity of mine seeps into my instruction of yoga–and it’s not scary, I promise.
Today is the 44th birthday of feminist musician and activist, Kathleen Hanna. Her work and her personality has meant so much to me over the years. In 2010, I had the chance to interview Kathleen, and I couldn't believe it. Her answers were amazing (as I knew they would be), and I was so thankful that someone as busy (and as cool!) as her would say "yes" to being interviewed by little ol' me.