My textbook goes to great pains to discuss the psychological effects of rape. This includes careful historical and cross-cultural examination of the blame-the-victim phenomenon. The authors illuminate the feelings of shame the phenomenon can produce within the victim, even before anyone has blamed her.
Under the subsequent section, "Rape Prevention," I found about twenty helpful tips as to how women can avoid being raped. And nothing else.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Reverb 11, Follow Up
Happy New Year, my friends, and thanks for coming on this little journey with me. Without the invitation to participate in this twelfth-month soul-search, I doubt I would have had the courage to follow through on tonight's theatrical journey. Thanks also to the Sacred Fools Theater Company for being kind, welcoming, hilarious, talented, and high-octane in the best of possible ways, and my buddy Chris for bringing me to them.
I second-guessed myself many times before walking into the theater this morning. I'd just written about how long it's been since I performed for an audience - what was I thinking, letting my first venture back to the stage be this 24-hour madness? It'd be like swearing off singing for a decade (like I could do that) and doing a one-night stand with the L.A. Master Chorale.
Then I thought about all the other things I've written this month; in them I found the kernel of courage I needed to move ahead.
By the time we actually went up in front of the audience, I felt like I'd been reintroduced to a vital part of myself. How could I do this? How could I not? How could I have forgotten, how could I have abandoned this integral component of Dash for so long?
Truth: I hadn't forgotten. I abandoned that part of myself because I no longer felt worthy of it, no longer had faith in my own value. Worse, I couldn't bear to risk having that self-perception confirmed by others. Only with restored belief in my abilities could I take the risk. And boy did I reap the reward.
Sharing in the vivacity and creative lust of the Fools was like coming home again; earning the laughter and applause of the audience was like a big hearty hug from Mom.
This is the best start to a New Year I've ever had.
I second-guessed myself many times before walking into the theater this morning. I'd just written about how long it's been since I performed for an audience - what was I thinking, letting my first venture back to the stage be this 24-hour madness? It'd be like swearing off singing for a decade (like I could do that) and doing a one-night stand with the L.A. Master Chorale.
Then I thought about all the other things I've written this month; in them I found the kernel of courage I needed to move ahead.
By the time we actually went up in front of the audience, I felt like I'd been reintroduced to a vital part of myself. How could I do this? How could I not? How could I have forgotten, how could I have abandoned this integral component of Dash for so long?
Truth: I hadn't forgotten. I abandoned that part of myself because I no longer felt worthy of it, no longer had faith in my own value. Worse, I couldn't bear to risk having that self-perception confirmed by others. Only with restored belief in my abilities could I take the risk. And boy did I reap the reward.
Sharing in the vivacity and creative lust of the Fools was like coming home again; earning the laughter and applause of the audience was like a big hearty hug from Mom.
This is the best start to a New Year I've ever had.
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