As a kid, my father lovingly—and about half-jokingly—told me that I was “not like the other children.” Teasing or not, he was right; for evidence, one needed look no further than my school supplies. While other girls’ notebooks were photo collages of Britney Spears and Jonathon Taylor Thomas, mine were plain. To be honest, they were probably covered with “Niki’s Stuff!” in jell-penned bubble letters, but my point is that I was never one for celebrity worship. My heroes, my inspirations, were the stuff of literature and history. Joan of Arc, Elizabeth I, Jane Eyre, Elizabeth Bennet. Strong women, bold women—women who defied gender roles and societal expectations. They spoke when they had something to say. They fought when the cause demanded it. They were brave, they were fierce. Yet, always, they maintained their dignity and poise. Femininity and power, they taught me, were not mutually exclusive. I learned this lesson anew from the Duchess of Malfi, as played by Laura Cole. Resurgens Theatre Company is producing The Duchess of Malfi, John Webster’s macabre masterpiece, this weekend at The New American Shakespeare Tavern, and I was fortunate enough to see the production in rehearsal. It was nothing short of a dark delight. Malfi has it all—murder, incestual desires, a werewolf, a poisoned Bible, and even a severed hand. But, at its heart, is the bright, fiery person of the Duchess. Forbidden by her brothers to marry after the death of her first husband, the Duchess takes an empowered stand against patriarchal rule and defies them. Not only does she remarry, she proposes, and to a man beneath her social standing.
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by Lindsey Castille In my junior year of high school, I was involved with a group of people trying to start a gay/straight alliance club. Ultimately, we were shut down by the principal, who was seemingly homophobic. This is not a strange occurrence, at least where I live in “the Bible Belt,” where people look forward to their Wednesday night services and where being Christian is not only normal, but expected. I believe the younger generation at least is generally more accepting than the older generation, but we do gain knowledge from our parents. People pass down intolerance through bloodlines. To protest not being able to form this organization—on a campus, I would like to mention, that had a debate club, a young Republicans club, a golf club, and a fencing club—we all decided that we would not stand for the pledge of allegiance one early spring morning. Although we all ended up in detention for the day and unfortunately gave up on our own version of a silent protest, our main goal was to point out that there is not “liberty and justice for all” in this country. LGBT people—especially the “T,” for transgender—are often left out of the conversation when it comes to equal rights. The main focus of the LGBT community has been gay marriage, and they are finally winning. 37 states and the District of Columbia have legalized gay marriage and another 8 states are in court proceedings and appeals are in progress. But there’s a more prominent and dangerous problem that persists in the LGBT community, and it’s something Laverne Cox wants to put a stop to. Laverne Cox is most known for her role as Sophia Burset on the Netflix Original Series Orange is the New Black. What some people might not know about her is that she not only plays a trans woman on the show, she is also transgender herself and is an advocate for trans people, particularly trans women of color. Laverne has used Orange is the New Black as a platform to confront transphobia and issues that trans people face. She understands how transphobia is related so closely to sexism and racism, and she is trying to change the conversation and make it more inclusive with the ever-growing abbreviation LGBTQAI+. by Molly Hand What makes a Southern woman? I sometimes wonder. Having lived in the South myself for many, many years and married into a family that has resided in Tallahassee, Florida for generations, I observe qualities of Southern women and notice my own difference, even as I have learned to display some of the characteristics, don camouflage, blend in. Among my core values is a refusal to make generalizations, to reduce heterogeneous groups to stereotypes or tidy demographic descriptions. Like Shakespeare’s Cleopatra, human beings are capable of infinite variety. This is true even of Southern women—it is impossible to make generalizations about them as a group, as though there were specific defining features and identifying marks. And yet, as a Northerner in a Southern town, I still feel an outsider sometimes. I think about this in terms of habitus, as explained by the French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu. I inhabit characteristics, a disposition, a way of being that marks me as slightly different. Whereas native Southern women inhabit their Southern-ness comfortably, unthinkingly, I must make an effort to wear that costume. While the costume still feels awkward to me sometimes, Laura Johnson wears it gracefully. Johnson is a remarkable Southern woman because, although she isn’t from the South, she embodies Southern charm and is immersed in this community to such an extent that she seems fully a part of it, comporting herself with assurance and ease. Having made Tallahassee her home, she owns her Southern-ness and, as Executive Director of the Southern Shakespeare Festival, she is actively shaping the culture of this Southern community. When I first met Laura Johnson, I was immediately impressed. “Wait until you meet Mephistopheles!” This was how I had first heard about her. Brent Griffin, the co-director of Resurgens Theatre Company’s production of Christopher Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, was filling me in on some details of the show, including plans for an all-female cast, with the exception of Faustus, played by Griffin himself. Cast as Faustus’s infernal companion, Johnson would be, Griffin promised, captivating. When I met Johnson shortly thereafter, any skepticism I had, any hyperbole I read in her praise, were immediately dispelled. Charming. Enchanting. Bewitching. Johnson casts a spell. |