Learning from Girls Gone Wild

Have you ever seen a performance of Eve Ensler's "The Vagina Monologues"?

I have. And I will be the first to admit, few times in my life have I blushed so much.

If you haven't seen this (how to describe it?) evocative series of stories, you may have some misconceptions. First off, "Vagina Monologues" isn't about sex, but it is. It isn't about man-hating feminism, but it is about feminism. Most of all, it's about the human condition.

For four years a group of locals have come together to put on this production as part of the worldwide V-Day campaign, meant to raise awareness about issues like domestic violence. Last year the local production moved to the Southeast Missouri State University campus for the first time, and it will be there again Thursday at Academic Hall Auditorium.

Now that you know the day and place, I want to give you my male perspective on the monologues. Way back in the ancient year of 2005, I watched a few of the monologues for journalistic purposes -- I didn't want to write about this controversial piece unless I'd at least seen some of it.

It was a cold February night, as they usually are, and I visited the Hirsch Community Room of the Cape Girardeau Public Library, where the women in the performance were rehearsing.

Of course, I didn't know what to expect, except maybe some sort of a) man-bashing hate speech or b) something well on the verge of pornography. That's what most people who haven't seen the monologues think.

Director Brooke Hildebrand Clubbs assured me differently, that this was actually an important piece of social drama that teetered back and forth between edgy and humorous, brutally honest and just plain brutal. She was right.

As I said before, I've hardly blushed that red in my life. I know the actors saw me, but I couldn't help it. You can probably guess from the title, but all the monologues are delivered from the perspectives of vaginas. In lump, they tell stories about the inherent joys and tragedies of being a female human on this planet. Of course, some of the monologues deal with sex, hence my blushing.

I remember one in particular. I can't recite it to you, but the gist of it was a vagina yearning to be respected and adored, not to just provide pleasure. The actress was too good, and I was embarrassed by my own presence in front of a female talking so frankly about sex.

Why do I tell you about this? Because something that happened this weekend in downtown Cape taught me a lesson about female empowerment.

Some friends and I went downtown last Friday for a night of beer and pool.

Nothing out of the ordinary, until we see a "Girls Gone Wild" bus parked near the floodwall. You may start to see where I'm going with this.

Being that my friends and I were journalists, our first instinct was to find out what was going on. We found out the camera crew for the famous flashing film franchise were inside 2 North Bistro, finding fresh meat for their product.

We stuck around a while to see what was going on, but the place got crowded, and we left. We didn't see any girls going wild, but if we had, I know my reaction to the chest-baring action wouldn't have been the same as the one I suffered when I witnessed the soul-baring monologue. There would have been no blushing, there would have been no embarrassment or anxiety. I would have been totally comfortable, but probably not terribly interested -- just some loose women doing what they do.

So what's the point to this ramble? The point is this -- even I get uncomfortable when women talk about sex, instead of making themselves an object.

"Girls Gone Wild" enforces our accepted, misguided ideas about men, women and sex. "The Vagina Monologues" doesn't.

Call it conditioning, call me an idiot, make your judgments. All I can say is, if you're a guy, if you're a woman, go to Academic Hall on Thursday and watch the monologues. For one, you'll be helping a good cause (all money goes to the SEMO Network Against Sexual Violence).

But even better, the new understanding you gain might actually make that Valentine's night sex even better. Mutual respect makes everything better.

Matt Sanders is the Arts & Leisure editor for the Southeast Missourian and the editor of OFF Magazine.