So today I got sucked into a flame war over on Cute Overload -- yeah, I should know better, but of course, I entered it trying to be civil, then got trolled and couldn't hold myself back. But I did get to thinking that anyone who knows me knows that I am about as far from a sexist as a man can be. Maybe that's not THAT far, but I doubt that any woman who knows me would call me sexist or anti-feminist. Am I a guy? Yes, pretty unabashedly, but I make a point of treating all women with respect and not tolerating others around me who do not. I've specifically made a point, for example, of casting equal numbers of men and women in the improvisation groups I have created: that's not the most radical thing ever and I was far from the first to do it, but it was something that I personally insisted on because I felt that women generally were not (and are not) given opportunities to improvise in equal numbers with men. Amy Seham wrote a book about it , and the groups I learned from also insisted on equal numbers of women (at a time when most groups had only one woman in the troupe, because conventional wisdom was women aren't and can't be funny and should only play wifes, secretaries and whores). Does this one thing mean that I'm not sexist? No, of course not, but it's just one example of a way in which I have deliberately chosen to NOT be sexist.
More importantly, after thinking about it, I realized that I have for most of my adult life happily and productively worked under the power of and with the guidance of women -- a few men, but mostly women. Allow me to elaborate:
1) My first "job" was working for a woman who bred Himalayan cats out of her home. She was an independent businesswoman who loved animals and taught me about how cats behave around each other, how to take care of sick cats, and how to be responsive to an animal's needs. I only worked for her for a few months (unpaid), but as I had no pet of my own at the time, I absorbed this time with her animals and consider it one of the most valuable experiences I have ever had (at a time in my life when I was not very happy otherwise).
2) My primary mentor in high school was a woman, an English teacher I had for two years, plus one year of journalism and an independent study. She challenged me to become a better writer and a better thinker, seeing (when most couldn't) that I was too content to get by on minimum effort. I learned my academic drive from her, and her passion for great books, great ideas, and the complexity of language and the human soul nurtured the same impulses in me.
3) My aunt, whom I had the pleasure of studying with one semester in England, is one of the world's foremost scholars on contemporary American drama, has a Ph.D. from Harvard and has taught at a major public university for nearly twenty years (her husband is a former Jesuit priest with seven doctorate-level degrees and a longtime college Dean). I learned about how to most effectively engage with students by being a student in her classroom, and still attempt to imitate her pedagogy, which is exciting, dynamic, improvisational, and thoroughly effective in helping learning minds grasp complex questions. When I was working in show business (see below), she was always telling me I was wasting my talents and needed to get back into the classroom where I belong, and she has unfailingly been one of my biggest fans and supporters as I try to make a living in this very difficult profession.
4) While an undergraduate at NYU, I had several teaching assistants, professors and adjunct professors in the classes that were most important to my development as a thinker and a person. My Theory of Personality professor introduced me to the enlightening work of psychotherapist Karen Horney. When I began therapy, it was the Horney clinic in New York where I was able to make progress and stabilize myself at a difficult time. (By the way, for those of you who consider going to therapy some indication of weakness or insanity, you suck.) Today, I use some of Horney's terminology (always giving her credit) when I teach advanced approaches to acting and improvisation. Another female professor taught the first true "Women's Studies" class I ever took, where I began to learn the true critical history of feminism and appreciate the complex arguments of the feminist movement(s) of the time (1990). This was in the middle of the "Act-Up"/gay activist revolution, and much of what I learned about feminism and identity politics was introduced to me by activist teaching assistants (male and female, gay and straight and bi) who taught me how to be vigilant about issues of power and representation. The critical thought and discourse I was exposed to -- even that which I disagreed with -- spoke to my own growing understanding of the world. I learned from women about Jacques Lacan and Michel Foucault, and I learned from men about Kaja Silverman and Maya Deren. (I had some wonderful male professors and mentors as well, most of them I would consider to be pretty good male feminists).
5) When I graduated, my first real job was working in a publicity firm that was owned by a woman (who ran the New York office) and a gay man (who ran the LA office). My immediate supervisor was a woman who barely graduated high school and was incredibly disorganized and unglamorous, but was one of the most successful and well-liked people in her profession. I learned from her how to talk to the media, how to effectively play dumb to protect a client, how to win people's trust, and how to keep a positive attitude even if the world was a complicated place. When I left her desk, my new supervisor was an office manager who was one of the best party organizers and event planners in New York City (she still is), a powerful woman who had no problem cursing out powerful magazine editors and TV personalities and fiercely defending those who showed her respect. My third boss was a calm, efficient, incredibly intelligent woman who allowed me the freedom to develop my own clients and work and trusted me to give her honest and intelligent responses to serious and important questions. From her, I learned how to be a good boss that can make the most out of someone's competence and challenge others to do their best through example and encouragement.
6) When I moved to Los Angeles, my first boss was a peer - someone who graduated one year before me at NYU. She had produced a student film -- directed by a woman and starring another woman -- that I had been production manager for. Now she was employed by a major movie studio, and I worked for her at that studio for three years, two as a freelance consultant, and one as her full-time assistant. From her, I learned about how to talk to colleagues in business and how to pick your fights wisely, and tons about communicating effectively with people you don't necessarily trust. Her boss was a woman, frequently listed as one of the 20 most powerful women in Hollywood (much of the rest of the company was run by men, but my end of the job was definitely driven by those two women).
7) My next job, I followed my boss (as her assistant) to work for a company that was run by two more powerful women in Hollywood, each of whom frequently made the top 50 most powerful women list (for whatever that is worth, I'm just saying these were real players). As women who had worked very hard on behalf of and for men for their entire careers, this was their opportunity to call some of the shots, and they were part of a very powerful women's network in Hollywood. Nearly every meeting we took was with a company run by a woman, and our home studio was presided over by a woman. In most important meetings, I was the only male present, as most of these women had female assistants and executives. To say that I learned any one thing from these women is impossible -- some of them were effective and intelligent, others were fearful and disempowered. But they all outranked me significantly, and I had no problem shutting up and doing my job, only speaking when spoken to, and trusting their judgment and wisdom.
8) When I returned to school, all three members of my master's thesis committee were women, all tenured professors at the University of California. I don't know their exact ages, but I would guess that they had been professors of some sort for a combined 55-60 years. Two of them are considered major scholars in their field and I also worked with both of them as teaching assistants (they consider themselves "feminists" as well and have published work related to feminism, though that is not their only area of specialty). They made jokes during my orals about how rare it was to have three women on a committee for a male student (particularly when my thesis had little to do with gender issues).
9) Only one of the members of my dissertation committee is a woman. Sorry.
10) I was also a teaching assistant for a well-known Asian-American playwright who was the best teacher of the creative arts I have ever seen. She gave me the encouragement and opportunity to develop my own work and I am in awe of what she can accomplish with student artists. I also hope to direct one of her plays someday because they speak so eloquently to the same notions of language, identity, and connectedness that I have learned from all of the other people mentioned here.
Finally, and I can't even put a number on this, is my mother. My mother has two graduate degrees and has done more in her life to help those less fortunate (the mentally ill) than I can imagine. She has suffered horrific personal tragedy and is still the most loving person I know. She endures sexism and bias that makes me want to hurt people. She has believed in me and supported me more than anyone (well, it's a tie with my dad). She taught me how to be a better writer. She has taught me the value of emotion. She might be the bravest person I know. She taught me about God.
I'm not saying that there aren't men who haven't influenced me -- of course there were. And I'm not even mentioning the many, many women -- peers, friends, lovers, students, collaborators -- whom I have felt close to and whom I need. Does it make me sexist that I trust women more than men? That I respect the generic woman more than the generic man? That I'm much more interested in how a casual female friend is reacting to a break-up than I am interested in how a male best friend is dealing with his? That I'd much rather share the truth about myself with a woman than with a man? That I dream of a day when women play major league baseball, dominate the US Congress, and control the pornography industry?
I am as God made me. And I'm not one to question Her methods.
