By Marian Phillips Marian is a first year in the Women’s History Program at Sarah Lawrence College.
Content Warning: Abortion.
Over the past few months, Americans have witnessed bill after bill proposed to restrict abortion access in multiple states. At this current juncture, these states include Georgia, Missouri, Ohio, and Alabama. State senators have taken it upon themselves to decide what every individual that is capable of becoming pregnant can and should do with their body; carry an unwanted, dangerous, and/or traumatic pregnancy to term. They have proposed that a bill, one that we know commonly as the “heartbeat bill,” pass so that an individual cannot receive an abortion at six weeks. As New York Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez pointed out on Twitter, that means missing a period by two weeks. Subsequently, the news that we do not have autonomy over our own bodies has cast an ominous cloud above all of our heads.
In the midst of the terror I felt, and continue to feel, I went to a punk show. Half hoping to scream my lungs out to songs about Plan B and dance until my legs couldn’t hold me up any longer, I found myself in a room full of people feeling just as I felt: angry and frustrated at the world. The first band that played astounded me. The lead singer of Control Top, in all of their unapologetic glory, screamed for abortion access, and the crowd yelled with her in positive affirmations that we all felt the same; unapologetically pro-choice. If you’re anything like me, feelings of isolation tend to permeate when news that feels too deeply personal becomes so outwardly political. It may feel as though you can’t express your dismay to close friends or family that may not share your beliefs. Even if you turn to Twitter to vent, you inevitably run into another dude-bro hiding behind a keyboard that thinks he can tell you how to take care of your reproductive health.
If you’re at all like me, you know how important these little moments of screaming for what you want so badly to have freedom to access are potentially stripped from you and others. I have spent a great deal writing about feminist punk throughout my first year as a Master’s student. While my entire life has been grounded in participating in the subculture, I often forget what drew me to it in the first place; May 17, 2019 reminded me why that was. Once the headliner, Tacocat, arrived on stage, I could feel the air growing vibrant in anticipation. Emily Nokes, the lead singer, is an activist and advocate for abortion rights for everyone. She assisted in the compilation of the recently published text “Shout Your Abortion,” a book about being unapologetically pro-choice.
In the middle of their performance, Nokes stopped to have a short conversation on reproductive rights. “Abortion effects everything, in a good way, it saves lives. It’s fucking cool,” she announced to the crowd, followed by a round of applause and shouting in agreement. The band advocates for their spaces to be all inclusive, accepting, and positive. There has never been a moment, in the multiple times I have had the pleasure of seeing them, that they haven’t withheld their activism as punk musicians and activists.
I have seen many, many punk shows in my life. No other band – with a few exceptions – has been so unapologetically for the well-being of others. The spaces that Nokes and her fellow bandmates create for their audience is almost otherworldly; something you won’t find anywhere else. They provide you with a deep feeling of comfort. You go into the show knowing that if something were to happen to question your safety, they would be there for you. The bands that played that night were so aware of the feelings that the crowd felt, they made sure we all knew that they were here for us, they feel what we are feeling, and will continue to spread their message. Abortion access now, unapologetically and forever.
By Hannah McCandless Hannah is a first year graduate student in the Women’s History Program.
Disclaimer: The Re/Visionist fully supports student’s rights to protest. This blog post includes opinions about the protest that belong to the writer of this blog specifically.
In the early hours of Monday, March 11th, 2019, undergraduate students collected at the Westlands Administration Building at Sarah Lawrence College to begin what has now been a 57 hour long occupation of the building (at the time this blog was written). The Diaspora Coalition, an organization created by students of color to speak to and address the injustices they face at the hands of the Sarah Lawrence Administration, organized the occupation.
Loudly chanting the words “Sarah Lawrence, what a shame? 30 years and still the same! Sarah Lawrence, what a shame? 50 years and still the same!” protestors reference the treatment of students of color over the college’s history. The Diaspora Coalition organized, demanding that the institutional and racial issues faced by students of color, which have been generationally ignored, be addressed in a swift and collaborative manner. One organizer explained that some of the current demands were copied from former protest demands, indicating that the protests of 1969 and 1989, among other protests, have not led to the substantial outcomes students have hoped for.
It is the belief of this writer that students of Women’s History, Gender Studies, Queer Studies, and Africana Studies are, by the nature of what we give voice to, inherently activists. Therefore, the Women’s History Blog took time to interview some of the organizers to find out their thoughts on the occupation and related protests around campus, as well as their thoughts on how graduate students fit into the protest. The organizers have requested that we keep their identities out of the blog post and other social media posts for their anonymity. Therefore, the three students we interviewed will be referred to as Organizer One, Organizer Two, and Organizer Three.
“None of us are at a point where we are trying to convince people of the validity of our humanity.” Fiercely and passionately stated, Organizer Two made clear that their intentions were focused on supporting the needs and demands of students of color, many of which are related to intersections of institutional and structural policies that are any combination of racist, sexist, homophobic, classist, ageist, and ableist, among others. Demands that vary from more affordable housing and meal plan options, to free access to necessities like laundry detergent and affordable summer storage, to more hiring of faculty and staff of color, their demands were diverse and extensive.
The list of demands is comprehensive, covering a wide variety of issues that students of color experience. Recognizing that despite their best efforts to include the voices of all students of color at Sarah Lawrence, Organizer Three referred to the Talk Back event as an opportunity for students to share feedback on the demands. Understanding that “it was impossible for us to talk to everybody,” Organizer Two made clear that the demands were not meant to be the only demands expressed by students, but a place to open the conversation. Organizer Three added, “The things that we are asking for are things that we believe will benefit the larger Sarah Lawrence Community,” and if people in the community did not feel like their voices were being heard, that it is the job of the organizers to listen to that feedback and address those needs. The Talk Back event is scheduled to be held in Resigner in the PAC on Wednesday evening starting at 5:30 PM.
When talking about how organizers intended to reach the students, faculty, and staff who had turned the other cheek, Organizer One said that they hoped to bring in people who agreed and disagreed with them, faculty and staff, undergraduate and graduate, to talk about the needs of this community. It is hoped that the Talk Back, modeled after the 1989 Talk Back, can be a space for people to come forward with questions and contributions. The format is set up to allow for a rotation of questions and comments from students, faculty, and staff. When asked about the representation of graduate students, the organizers were especially hopeful that graduate students would be able to attend because, as Organizer Two put it, “We have it bad, but [graduate students] have it on another level of bad.”
Concerning their efforts to include the needs of graduate students in the list of demands, organizers stated support for people of color at Sarah Lawrence, “including international students, graduate students, faculty, and staff” in the opening of their demands. As they looked to connect with graduate students, the organizers, many of whom are friends with graduate students, found that their access to graduate students of color was sparse. When they did know graduate students of color, some were concerned that sharing organizing information with too many graduate students, many of whom work at Sarah Lawrence and whether they were students of color or not, might lead to administrators finding out. The possibility that students would be met with backlash, possible harm, or threats of arrest when preparing to enter Westlands was a real concern. As a white, middle class, cis woman, I understand that these are experiences that I am rarely exposed to, and I personally understand and respect their decisions to keep themselves safe in their organizing efforts.
As a graduate student who is involved with the Graduate Student Senate, an organization which is meant to highlight and advocate for the voices of graduate students, I would like to publicly state that some of the major issues facing graduate students are financial. Specifically, two major issues we face include a lack of affordable, on campus housing and a lack of funding for thesis research and fieldwork travel. New York City and surrounding areas are very expensive to live in, and on campus graduate housing is not available to us, making Sarah Lawrence a massive financial burden for many. As it relates to research, fieldwork travel, and other expenses related to intellectual and professional development, our grant funding sources are sparse, causing many graduate students further financial strains. Additionally, due to the high quantity of non-traditional students within graduate programs, I believe that it is imperative to include their needs in the list of demands, such as considerations for educational cost, family housing, and affordable daycare. It is important to note that some of these issues are class specific and affect many students, but are especially important to address when intersections of race are included in one’s identity as a graduate student.
Later, organizers were asked about their efforts to connect with administrators before occupation, one organizer said that through various committees, they had worked to have their voices heard. Another organizer affirmed this, saying that “sometimes the format of those spaces doesn’t really allow for us to say what we need to say.” Again, understanding that my experiences are related to my own privileges, I personally support their actions within a system that is more apt to support someone who looks like me, and I understand that more radical forms of protest are often necessary in securing meaningful change.
After the interview took place, I chose to spend a few hours with the protestors in Westlands in solidarity. Reflecting on my experience while there, my own job on campus as a graduate assistant, and on feedback I have heard from other graduate students, I firmly stand with and support the Diaspora Coalition in their efforts to affect structural and institutional change at Sarah Lawrence. I believe that, to those with frustrations about the protest, it is important to note that no protest is perfect. Even the Women’s March in 2017, though attended by thousands of women across the country and world, was not fully inclusive of women and nonbinary people of color, both at the planning table and in working to support those people in in attending the gathering. Similarly, this protest has some places for improvement. It is my belief that the Diaspora Coalition efforts to reach graduate students since the protest began have been genuine and helpful in reaching the goal of greater inclusion.
Wrapping up the interview, the sentiment was that many of those protesting are exhausted both physically and emotionally. The students are asking for your support. Anyone can support in a variety of ways, including visiting their Facebook page, or by looking for them on instagram or twitter under @slc50sitin. You can also view their demands here. Another way that people can participate is by calling using the scripts provided in on the Facebook page, linked above. Please consider supporting the students however you see fit.
By Marian Phillips
Marian is a first year student in the Women’s History Program.
This morning on International Women’s Day, March 8, 2019, I woke up to Lizzo’s “Juice” stuck in my head. Off to a good start, I continued my morning routine while Carly Rae Jepsen, Cherry Glazerr, Rico Nasty, and Dream Wife – amongst others – shuffled and played on my Spotify playlist. As Tacocat’s “Hey Girl” came on, it hit me, why aren’t we talking more about the women that have pioneered not just music as a whole, but have used their platform as artists and musicians to promote social, political, and cultural change? Of course, there are the greats we all know, but what about Nina Simone, Poly Styrene, and Valerie Agnew? For this week’s post, I will share a portion of the activist efforts of these women.
Nina Simone, born Eunice Kathleen Waymon on February 21, 1933, was a notable African American jazz, R&B, and gospel singer and songwriter, as well as a civil rights activist. While Simone initially aspired to become a concert pianist, her desire for social and political justice led her down a different path. Gaining mainstream success from her debut album Little Girl Blue, her song “Mississippi Goddam,” inspired by the racism that plagued (and continues to plague) the United States, propelled her to the forefront of the civil rights movement. For the rest of her career, Nina Simone spoke and performed at civil rights meetings and protests. Her political activism never disappeared from her music, and her desire for justice continued up until her death in 2003. For more on Simone’s life please see autobiography I Put a Spell on You (1991).
Poly Styrene, born Marianne Joan Elliot-Said on July 3, 1957, was a British woman of color and the frontwoman of the punk band X-Ray Spex. Styrene started the band after running a local news ad that stated she was looking for “Young punx who want to stick it together.”[i] As a result, X-Ray Spex was born and so was the beginning of their critique on capitalism which would last for their entire career. Styrene questioned bondage in every aspect of the word. Whether it was sexual, social, political, capitalist, or other, she would deconstruct the entire system with her singing. As Maria Raha states in Cinderella’s Big Score (2005) “amid all the jubilant chaos, they were able to provide a solid, relevant social commentary.”[ii] Styrene continued to promote listeners to fight back until her untimely death from metastasized breast cancer on April 25, 2011. Please see Cinderella’s Big Score for more information about Poly.
Valerie Agnew, born January 13, 1969, was the drummer of the Seattle based Riot Grrrl feminist-punk band 7 Year Bitch. Agnew was a longtime friend of The Gits singer Mia Zapata. While 7 Year Bitch’s lyrics are so incredibly politically charged, it wasn’t until the rape and murder of Zapata that Agnew’s platform as a musician and as an activist came to a head. Agnew, alongside fellow feminist punks, formed the Home Alive collective in the mid-90s. The collective – still around to this day – strives to provide affordable self-defense courses for women and members of the LGBTQ community. Punk-feminists were sick of seeing the people that they cared for become victims to such violent crimes, and Agnew stood up and said that enough was enough. Since the formation of the collective, people have continued to utilize the educational tools that they have learned and that their website now provides. While Agnew is only one of the founders, she and 7 Year Bitch stick out for their unapologetically anti-patriarchy songs such as “Dead Men Don’t Rape” and “M.I.A.”
Simone, Styrene, and Agnew are only three of the hundreds of women that have used their platform to question injustices, capitalism, and the patriarchy. For the sake of time and length, I have chosen these three because of their impact on me personally. While they all reside in different genres of music, the three of these women have their determination towards social, cultural, and political activism in common. On this International Women’s Day (as well as the entirety of Women’s History Month), I encourage you all to look at women who have started a revolution through music, and how big of an impact music can have when women such as Simone, Styrene, and Agnew are at the frontlines.
[i] Maria Raha, Cinderella’s Big Score: Women of the Punk and Indie Underground, (California; Seal Press: 2005), 86. [ii] Raha, 89.
By Katie Swartwood
Katie is a second year student in the Women’s History Graduate Program.
Since her creation in 1941, Wonder Woman, also known as Diana Prince, has become one of the most pervasive female comic book characters of all time. She’s been an inspiration for generations of women. This can be specifically traced to how the creator, William Moulton Marston, envisioned the character. He held a particular reverence for women and crafted Wonder Woman to be a powerful female force based on the women in his own life. He intended for Wonder Woman to be intelligent, independent, strong, and unwilling to submit to men’s power. The themes of Wonder Woman’s origins include an island without men, men as oppressors of women, and female independence, which are significant signifiers of Wonder Woman as a feminist icon.
The original Wonder Woman refused to marry her male co-star, an American pilot named Steve Trevor. She lived on the island of Themyscira which contained no male inhabitant and instead was reared by fearless, warrior women. Prior to meeting Steve Trevor, the only stories of men Diana knew were those of oppressive, slaving owning men that forced the Amazonians into submission. In fact, Wonder Woman’s iconic golden bracelets are worn as a reminder of the Amazonian’s time enslaved by men, and if any man is to connect chains to them, the powerful Amazonians will lose their strength. (1) This could explain Wonder Woman’s aversion to marriage, as she might have feared the idea of men controlling her. This directly contrasted to the customs of the 1940s when many women saw marriage and family as their main aspirations. For young girls and women to see Wonder Woman thrive in her independence, they could understand that women could maintain lives outside of marriage, as well as understand that men’s control over them could be devastating to their own power.
However, after Marston died, so did his vision for Wonder Woman. Wonder Woman’s new writer, Robert Kanigher, dismantled Marston’s feminist Wonder Woman vision. Instead of fighting bad guys, she was reduced to movie star, model, and babysitter; she even wanted to marry Steve Trevor. (2) In this instance, Wonder Women did not only reflect the positive advancements for women in America, she reflected the subservient role they were forced to take after men returned from World War II and demanded their jobs back. Instead of standing tall as an icon for the women’s movement, like she had in the 1940s, her entire character was compromised so that she could fit one man’s ideal of women’s role in the 1950s.
As the 1970s fell upon America, feminists looked to reclaim Wonder Woman from her new roles. In 1972, the inaugural issue of Ms. Magazine plastered a towering image of Wonder Woman on their front cover. Early second wave feminists used Ms. Magazine to publish their concerns and radical ideas for women in America. They generated an ever-growing reader base that was dedicated to the emerging women’s movement. Of all the strong females throughout history, they chose to place Wonder Woman on their first cover, even though at that time she had transformed into the antithesis of the feminist movement.
The iconic feminist leader herself, Gloria Steinem, is largely credited with playing a major role in Wonder Woman’s 1970s reincarnation. In a 2017 interview with Vanity Fair, Steinem explains her role in Wonder Woman’s feminist return. She discusses how she both privately and publicly lobbied D.C. Comics to replace this new Wonder Women with the original. The Ms. founders wanted women and girls alike to understand what they had been missing. By featuring Wonder Woman on their 1972 cover, they hoped to accomplish this. Privately, they lobbied Dick Giordano, who headed D.C. Comics at that time. They encouraged him to replace those who painted Wonder Woman as an ordinary, subservient woman with those who would do her original character justice. (3) As a result, Wonder Woman regained her powers and her conviction to fight for justice. From this moment on, Wonder Woman regained her rightful place as a feminist icon.
Wonder Woman was not just any run-of-the-mill comic book character. The young girls that grew up reading the original Wonder Woman comics saw her as a inspiration- as an example of the great things that women could accomplish in a time when women weren’t allowed very many opportunities. She encouraged these women to grow up and fight against the injustices that hindered women’s advancement. And women like Steinman understood the importance of such a character and made sure that little girls in the future could have the same role model she had growing up.
Even as recent as 2017, Wonder Woman was getting her own major film directed by a woman. While many expected Patty Jenkins to fumble with the big Hollywood production, she proved that having a strong female presence behind the screen is just as important as having them on the screen. Jenkin’s Wonder Woman character lacked the hyper sexualization that many female comic book characters suffer from. Even with her short skirt and corset like armor, none of the shots focused on her ass or her cleavage. Instead, they portrayed her a strong, capable hero- someone that little girls everywhere could aspire to be.
One of the greatest things about Wonder Woman is that she is a character that anyone can see themselves in. As Shelly Eversley and Michelle Habell-Pallán stated in 2015, “…she stood for all of us: Wonder Woman the Chicana, Wonder Woman the South American Amazon.” (4) Wonder Woman’s image has been reproduced to fit the image for every woman and every version of feminism. She represents black women, Latina women, lesbian women, trans women, disabled women, girls, women, seniors, and so many more. Wonder Woman is an icon for every girl that has felt powerless; throughout her history she has embodied the true goals of feminism: equality, love, and acceptance. As a 2017 Party City Halloween commercial portrayed various women in a multitude of Wonder Women costumes and said, “What’s better than Wonder Woman…? Wonder Women.” (5)
Jill Lepore. Secret Life of Wonder Woman. (New York: Penguin Random House, 2015), 12-14.
For the last few weeks, editorials criticizing 50 Shades of Grey turned feature film have been popping up all over my newsfeed. Perhaps it’s because I have been reading them while thinking ahead to our Women’s History Annual Conference, Worn Out: Motherwork in the Age of Austerity, but I have finally pinpointed the reason I cannot get on board with the 50 Shades of Grey shamming: mommy porn. The term refers to this simplistic narrative: middle-aged women who compromised an unsatisfying sex life for marriage and motherhood use 50 Shades of Grey as way to explore what they’ve been missing. In other words, it’s a term that demonstrates how much we still find mothers’ sexuality to be comical.
But before we get into the issue with mommy porn, here’s a brief background of the series: 50 Shades of Grey originated as fan-fiction of the young adult series, Twilight. It’s an interpretation of the relationship between the two main characters in a non-fantasy world, and written created for an older demographic.
Some critiques of the 50 Shades address the misconceptions of the BDSM community, and Dom/Submissive relationship perpetuated by the series. For example, in The Guardian essay written by Sophie Morgan, she critiques the portrayal of the BDSM as influencing all aspects of the main characters’ lives. She writes, “[D]espite what you might have read to the contrary, my sexual urges don’t overshadow every other aspect of my personality and life. I’m also, and this might be a tougher sell in some quarters, a feminist.”
Additionally, there are a number of important criticisms of the emotional abusiveness of the main characters’ relationship, which is not part and parcel with the Dom/Submissive relationship. 50 Shades of Abuse: A Critical Review of the Abuse Relationship in the 50 Shades Trilogy is a blog entirely devoted to breaking down the interactions between the two characters, and presents many convincing analyses that exposes some of the sex scenes as rape scenes.
Then there are not so thoughtful critiques. One of the worst perpetrators was a blog entry I discovered last summer. Written by blogger Matt Walsh, it is addressed “to the women of America.” The blogger judges women, complaining those who “give [him] a hearty ‘AMEN’ every time [he] write[s] a post condemning pornography, are the same ones gushing frantically about this film.” He goes on to say, “They don’t want their husbands watching porn, but they’ll not only watch and read porn themselves — they’ll advertise that fact to the entire world. As if the hypocrisy isn’t bad enough, they had to add in a touch of public emasculation.” Walsh’s “appeals” to women are not uncommon in the 50 Shades conversation. He calls for women to simply realize they are smart, deserve better men than the fictional character of Christian Grey, and remember they are feminists.
It is easy to write off Walsh’s appeals as sexist. He is, after all, making sexist statements about females who read the series. However, a greater issue is that it is not only the Walsh’s of the blogger-sphere making these appeals. As a woman who identifies as a feminist, I’ve seen numerous articles targeted at me to avoid poorly written pop-culture novels like the plague, and partake in degrading other women’s choices of leisure literature.
Although I sometimes have differing opinions from fellow feminists, I am sensitive of how I discuss those those differences. The biggest issue I have with the criticism of 50 Shades of Grey is that, whether or not it originated in feminist critique, it has come to shame women, particularly mothers. The Saturday Night Live skit in which mothers are found reading 50 Shades of Grey on Mothers’ Day is a perfect example of how mothers’ sexuality become has become the punchline.
Avital Norman Nathman, in her essay “Women Deserve Better than 50 Shades of Grey” poses a question that exposes the absurdity of mommy porn: “If this had been a book marketed toward men, would we be seeing the same sort of equal parts derision and patronizing reactions? Would the media dare coin the term ‘daddy porn?’” Ironically, mommy porn isn’t even an accurate descriptor for the demographic reading the series. According to a Newsweek Magazine article, the majority of women reading the series are in their 20s and 30s.
The problem with calling on feminists and feminism to disassemble the 50 Shades of Grey series is that it assumes a pretty narrow feminist agenda. What feminists like myself find much more concerning is that we’re being called on to do the work of patriarchy: to demean women who read 50 Shades of Grey.
There is a trend in comic book art to make women look as sexy as possible: from their clothes, to their hair, to the very position of their bodies. The most famous of the poses women are contorted into is called (and pardon the language): the “tits and ass” pose. This form is exactly what it sounds like. The female body is twisted so that the breasts and butt are both on display for the viewer’s gaze. To achieve this stance and many other “sexy” poses, however, anyone with an understanding of how the human body is constructed will notice that comic book artists have deleted some key parts of the human anatomy, such as: spines, ribcages, internal organs, and hipbones.
If the problem with this transformation of the female body is unclear, allow me to explain. While these are superheroes and there is a certain amount of creativity that artists can take with their renderings, male superheroes are not intentionally drawn in this manner. Spider-Man, Superman, Iron Man, and Captain America are drawn, for the most part, anatomically correct. Unless it is a recent update that I have missed, Cat Woman, Storm, Wonder Woman, the Scarlet Witch, and other super-heroines do not have super-bendy spines and disappearing bones in their cache of superpowers. The only character that should be drawn in Exorcist-like poses is Reed Richards aka Mr. Fantastic, whose superpower allows him to stretch and contort his body. The distortion of women’s bodies feeds the unrealistic ideals that their bodies are held up to in western society, and is a major source of disenchantment for female fans (who make up the comic book industry’s largest growing consumers).
A recent and prime example of this distortion is present in the variant cover art for the upcoming new title Spider-Woman #1. When Marvel announced that in November of this year, they would be releasing a new solo comic for Spider-Woman (Jessica Drew), female comic fans were elated. This comic emerges as a part of Marvel’s equality initiative (the same campaign that the new female Thor and black Captain America formed from) in an effort to be more inclusive toward their non-white, male, cisgender, heterosexual audiences. With Marvel being so keen to appeal to women, it confused many people when the variant cover art for the first issue was released and viewers saw this:
In case it is not clear, in this image, Spider-Woman is meant to have just leapt onto the roof of a building, one leg hanging still over the ledge. Why is her butt in the air for this maneuver? Why is her suit digging into the crack of her butt? Why is her head tilted backwards at an impossibly acute angle? Well, according to the artist, that is just how the female body works. Milo Manera, the artist in question, was an odd choice to begin with for a comic meant to appeal to feminists, as his usual work is drawing for erotic comics with male audiences. The image made women everywhere wonder what in the world Marvel was thinking when they allowed the image to be released. But do not fear. Women did not simply let the ridiculousness of this drawing go unnoticed. Instead, they got creative.
Among the litany of critiques that emerged on the cover art, which ranged from memes, tweets, and parodies, to a horrifying 3-D rendering of the pose; is a video by Alice Dranger, a gymnast. Dranger and two other female gymnasts attempt to recreate Spider-Woman’s pose by leaping onto a faux-skyscraper ledge made of floor mats and freezing in the position they land in to see if women’s bodies do in fact work in the way that Manera draws. To no one’s surprise, not a single gymnast landed in Manera’s stance. If three adult, trained female athletes cannot replicate the pose, it seems highly unlikely that any woman, including a super-heroine could either.
Another response came from artist Karine Charlebois, who runs a tumblr blog, Less Tits N’ Ass, More Kickin’Ass, and uses her artistic skills to transform women’s unrealistic poses in comic books into the anatomically possible. Charlebois’ blog and other blogs like it are different from the “Hawkeye-Initiative,” which draws the superhero Hawkeye in the poses and outfits of super-heroines to note their absurdity, and has received backlash for mocking femininity. Charlebois does not alter the women’s costumes (no matter how impractical they may be), and she keeps the poses as similar to the original as possible, only altering them so that they correctly reflect the flexibility of real human bodies. Her alterations show women can be drawn in ways that are anatomically correct, yet still display plenty of the breast and butt areas of which comics seem to be so fond. Her re-imagining of the Manera cover loses none of its eroticism, yet puts Spider-Woman in a stance that is physically possible:
It seems that this bombardment of criticism may have made Marvel see the error of their ways. Manera was scheduled to do two upcoming variant art covers for X-Men and Thor (the new, female one). Yet, as of September 23rd, Manera has been conveniently removed as the artist for these covers due to scheduling errors. The removal of his art from these future comics gives hope that female comic fans have the ability alter the superhero landscape one pose and cover critique at a time. Above all else, one thing stands to be glaringly true, women comic book fans refuse to be silent in both their passion for the genre, and their criticisms.
*Kaitlyn Kohr is a second year student in the Women’s History Program at Sarah Lawrence College. After Sarah Lawrence, she plans to go to school for a Doctorate in Art History and one day work in an art museum. Her hobbies include becoming overly invested in the lives and treatment of female comic book characters, exploring museums, watching British television shows, and reading about representations of women.
I was working an early morning shift at Wooddale Village Retirement Community in Sun City, Arizona the day I found out I had been accepted into the Women’s History graduate program at Sarah Lawrence. As readers might be able to gather based on the fact that I am currently writing this, I decided fairly quickly and easily that I would be attending in the fall. The week of orientation came and went, and my optimism about my place in this program soared. I spent my first weekend of the semester browsing through my required reading lists and talking to my friends back home about how stunning the campus was, and how anxious I was to really get started. Then all of a sudden, classes started, and my hopeful enthusiasm turned quickly to terrified self-doubt.
As I’ve familiarized myself with the campus, my classmates, and the new material presented to me in each of my courses, I have felt a growing feeling inside of me that maybe I don’t deserve to be here as much as everyone else does. I have been struck by all of the insightful ideas my classmates have brought up during discussions. At the same time, I have found myself repeatedly questioning the worthiness of my own thoughts and allowing myself to sit in silence, fearful that what I have to say is simply not worthwhile. I have grown increasingly self-conscious that my experiences up to this point, educational or otherwise, are not on par with those of my peers. My worried reflection has driven me, on one or two occasions, to question the possibility that perhaps my admittance into this program was some kind of fluke.
Before I go on, let me take a moment to clarify one thing. When I made the decision to go to graduate school, I did not for one second think that it would be easy. I expected this to be an enriching time in my life when I would get a chance to develop the ideas I had conjured up as an undergraduate and turn them into work that I could be proud of. I also, however, expected nights of little to no sleep and days where I found time for nothing but reading and writing. I envisioned two years of headaches and homesickness and feeling mentally challenged like I had never been before. I found myself asking over and over again these past few weeks, “If I knew school was going to be like this, why do I feel so out of place?”
During one of my first days on campus, a classmate and I were discussing our nerves and apprehension about the our places in the program, and she mentioned the concept of Imposter Syndrome. Imposter Syndrome, or perceived fraudulence, is a psychological experience, “of perceived intellectual phoniness that is held by certain high-achieving adults who, despite their objective successes, fail to internalize these successes.” It is a constant feeling that any and all of an individual’s accomplishments can be attributed to luck, chance, or some other external factor, but never to their own ability. Although there is some debate on the subject, it has often been suggested that imposter syndrome is far more commonly experienced by women than by men. Pauline R. Clance, the clinical psychologist who coined the term, originally suggested through her research that imposter syndrome, “occurs with much less frequency in men and that when it does occur, it is with much less intensity,” and so a number of her studies have focused primarily or completely on this experience among women. More recent studies performed by Clance and others, however, have found that the phenomenon may be just as common in men. Catherine Cozzarelli and Brenda Major consider the possibility that various gendered societal expectations actually cause men to be less likely to express their feelings and experiences of imposter syndrome when asked, although they may be just as likely to have such experiences.
I began to think more about this idea of perceived fraudulence, because as the days went by I continued to encounter it in some form or another. Slowly but surely I began to recall many other instances in my life when I had felt this very same way: from the time I won a poetry contest in fifth grade to the day I was offered my first job promotion. As I talked to more first year students, almost every one of them shared my feelings of being overwhelmed by our coursework, or intimidated by our classmates and professors. That first person who mentioned Imposter Syndrome early in the semester was not the last. Even as I shared my experiences with friends in different programs at different schools, I found that they were experiencing the same emotions.
Fortunately, having had time to look into the idea of Imposter Syndrome and talk about it more in depth with some of my classmates, I have started to regain my optimism about my place in this program. If anything, these first few weeks have taught me a great deal about my current environment. While the work I have to look forward to over the next two years will be challenging, I am fortunate enough to have the chance to do it in a setting with peers I can share both my successes and failures with, and with professors who ultimately want to support me. Perhaps by focusing so heavily on my own nerves and doubts I allowed myself to forget what attracted me to this program, and more broadly, to feminism in the first place: the chance to expand my knowledge and the idea that my thoughts and opinions were worth sharing. I wish that I could say that I am writing this as someone who no longer feels like an imposter, but that isn’t necessarily true. I am still worried about my ability to produce meaningful ideas and work, but I also realize that I am attempting to do so in an amazing place that I worked hard to get to, just like everyone else here.
*Jackie Collens is a first year student in the Women’s History program at Sarah Lawrence College. She graduated from Arizona State University in the spring of 2014 with a bachelor’s degree in History and certificate in Women and Gender Studies. Her research thus far has focused primarily on the U.S. women’s suffrage movement as well as the lives of women during the Great Depression. In her free time, she enjoys binge-watching Bob’s Burgers, annoying her cats, and continuing on her lifelong quest to discover the world’s greatest sandwich.
 John Kolligian Jr. and Robert J. Sternberg, “Perceived Fraudulence in Young Adults: Is There An Imposter Syndrome?,” Journal of Personality Assessment 56 (1991): 309.
 Pauline R. Clance and Suzanne Ament Imes, “The Imposter Phenomenon in High Achieving Women: Dynamics and Therapeutic Intervention,” Psychotherapy: Theory, Research and Practice 15 (1978): 241.
 Catharine Cozzarelli and Brenda Major, “Exploring the Validity of the Imposter Phenomenon,” Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology 9 (1990): 403.