"thoughtful, bemused, affectionate, deeply skeptical outsider"

These six words are what Dana Gioia, chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts, used to describe the new poet laureate of the United States, Kay Ryan.

Hooray, Kay! As one of only a handful of women chosen for the position since its founding in 1937 (then called Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress), Kay Ryan is a deserving choice. In addition, she's the only "out" gay individual ever chosen. This decision illustrates great strides in the literary establishment, but we still have a long way to go.

Many people assume that the arts community, because of its liberal tendencies, is largely resistant to the influence of patriarchy. As a female poet, I observe on a regular basis that this is not necessarily the case.

Consider the following statistics distributed at this year's AWP panel, entitled Women's Presses, Activism, & Gender Inequities in the Literary World:

1. In the history of the National Book Awards, only 29 percent of the winners have been women.
2. The New York Times Book Review from Dec 9 listed the 10 Best Books of 2007: 5 fiction titles by men; 5 non-fiction, only two of them by women.
3. A full-page ad celebrating 2006 National Poetry Month, sponsored by the Academy of American Poets and listing more than 100 institutional sponsors, prominently features excerpts of five famous poems--none of which were written by a woman. The official poster for National Poetry Month 2006 includes eighteen such quotes--no more than 25% by women poets.
4. Of the 137 authors in the most recent Norton Anthology of American Literature, less than one-third are women.
5. In early 2005, women constituted only 17% of the opinion writers at The New York Times, 10% at The Washington Post, 28% at US News & World Report, and 13% at both Newsweek and Time.
6. In 2003, only 28% of all books reviewed in the New York Times Book Review were written by women.
7. In 1995, 40 feminist presses existed in the U.S. and 40 in the rest of the world; there are now roughly six.

Consider, also, that since the founding of the original poet laureate post in England in 1668, no woman has yet to be chosen.

There are plenty of female writers out there, just waiting to be found. This feeling of invisibility is perhaps best captured by one of Ryan's own poems:

Hide and Seek
Kay Ryan

It’s hard not
to jump out
instead of
waiting to be
found. It’s
hard to be
alone so long
and then hear
someone come
around. It’s
like some form
of skin’s developed
in the air
that, rather
than have torn,
you tear.

Feminist Monks?

I've just returned from a brief stay at Holy Cross Monastery, located near Poughkeepsie, NY, where I worked intensely on poetry and reflection. I traveled there by train with my good friend, The Creek Hiker. The monastery was on a hill overlooking the Hudson River. You could walk down to the river and just think, or walk up the hill to a labyrinth made of stones. The monks were so gracious. We went to worship with them several times a day. They sang entire Psalms, and it was just one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard.

So one might ask why a feminist might find solace with a group of men, yet that is exactly what happened during my stay at Holy Cross. There seems to be a general misconception in the public mind that feminisim = man-hating. This cannot be further from the truth for the vastmajority of feminists.

While there are many different versions of feminism, most feminists are fighting against patriarchy, a structure of power that traditionally oppresses women. This structure tends to put men in power and offer them privilege. My goal, then, as a feminist, is to deconstruct patriarchy, to unpack the ways that it harms both women and men.

Patriarchy harms us all, regardless of gender. A wonderful, whimsical illustration of patriarchy is the book Hope for the Flowers. Here, Trina Paulus presents us with the life of two caterpillars, Stripe and Yellow, who try to fulfill their instinct to "move up" in the world. They join thousands of other caterpillars in a giant "caterpillar pillar," a mass of little bodies climbing on top of each other to the great unknown above. Soon, Yellow becomes disconcerted with this effort, uncomfortable at the prospect of having to step on someone else's head to move forward in the world. She begins the long crawl down, abandoning this patriarchal structure for something better.

Yellow learns to fly, and in doing so, to "move up" in the world in a way that empowers others instead of disempowering them. This, too, is what most feminists aim for: a new way of doing things. A new way to reach the sky without stepping on a fellow caterpillar in the process. A butterfly way of being.

It is this kind of deconstructing that I found in the monks. Note their non-patriarchal Vision and Core Values:

*To personally and communally live a more authentic witness of Benedictine Ideals (namely pax or "peace," and ora et labora or "prayer and work" in the Contemporary World.
*To consciously develop and practice the attitudes and skills necessary to genuinely Listen and Respond to each other and our world.
*To face the power we hold to act on behalf of justice and to use that power, individually and corporately, for the sake of justice.
*To Welcome Diversity that enriches our life and mission and to embrace the costs and benefits that results.

It almost sounds like a feminist platform.

Yet you'll notice in my previous post that I referred to my father as "pro-feminist," not a "feminist." In the same way, I would ascertain that the monks at Holy Cross certainly seem to embody many feminist principles, but as men, they don't embody feminism. They can't, anymore than I can embody the experience of an African American. But they can certainly participate earnestly in the cause to eradicate patriarchal forces. And they do.

Perhaps my favorite inkling of resistance came during Vespers one evening. In the prayer book, I noticed that several newly typed prayers were scotch taped over the previous prayers. When I lifted the corner of one, I realized that the new prayer referred to God as "you" instead of "him."

What a beautiful way to deconstruct authority. In that quiet moment, with the monks singing Psalms in a small cathedral, I almost felt like Yellow. I could let go of the caterpillar pillar of religion within me. I could fly.

Man and Wife

My partner and I are wedding photographers, which makes it inevitable that I should write about gender disparity in the ultimate bastion of patriarchy in American society: the wedding ceremony.

This weekend, I heard a phrase that I hadn't heard in some time: I now pronounce you man and wife.

It took me back to the memorable scene in the Princess Bride Wedding.

Prince Humperdinck just can't wait for the priest to say those magic words, "man and wife." It will define his marriage to Buttercup. It will seal the deal.

So what's the problem with this time-honored sentence? It assigns men and women different and unequal realms. While it defines a man by his gender, it defines a woman by her role. Consequently, a man merely has to exist, while a wife must fulfill her duty in marriage. He is not required to act as a husband, but she is asked to act as a wife.

This language is important because it tells women that they are responsible for a marriage's success or failure. They are the ones who must serve, while the man is the one who must be served.

And while we're talking about language, the word "patriarchy" comes from the Greek words πατήρ, father, and αρχή, rule. Male authority can take many different forms. In the institution of the family, men have traditionally been given power over women in terms of property and ownership. Until the passage of the Married Women's Property Act of 1848, women relinquished ownership of all property on her wedding day to her husband. Thus, literally and figuratively, her husband "owned" her.

Today, patriarchy in the institution of marriage is less overt. We almost take for granted that children are automatically given their father's last name or that a man is still expected to "bring home the bacon," while a woman is expected to keep house. Still, these gendered expectations certainly affect our most intimate relationships. For instance, if a woman makes more money than her male spouse, should he feel inferior? If a man likes to cook or clean or do laundry, is he too "feminine"?

In my own home, I find myself falling prey to gender expectations like these. One example: I'm off for the summer, but my partner works. He likes to cook, and I don't. For him, cooking is relaxing, a creative outlet, an opportunity to try something new. For me, it's a chore. So who should cook dinner tonight? Can I remove all patriarchal influences when making that decision? Is the guilt that gnaws at me there because I don't have to work all day or because I feel like I should want to cook as a woman and don't?

It's tough stuff.

I like to look at the ending of the Princess Bride as an optimistic one. Check out the dialogue when Buttercup reveals to Westley that she's married Humperdinck:

Buttercup: Oh, Westley, will you ever forgive me?
Westley: What hideous sin have you committed lately?
Buttercup: I got married. I didn't want to. It all happened so fast.
Westley: It never happened.
Buttercup: What?
Westley: It never happened.
Buttercup: But it did. I was there. This old man said, "Man and wife."
Westley: Did you say, "I do"?
Buttercup: No. We sort of skipped that part.
Westley: Then you're not married. If you didn't say it, you didn't do it.

Ah, the power of language. Westley's right. Saying it is doing it. In my own commitment ceremony, we agreed to be "partners in life." The phrase evoked a kind of agency on both our parts, a commitment to serve each other.

Yet even so, I'm still not convinced that it's my turn to cook tonight. :)