Va-Jay Day: Vagina Monologues will make you uncomfortable — in a good way

Ladies and gentlemen, it’s that time of year again. It happens almost without us noticing, but the subtle changes on campus are always a true sign of a change in the space-time continuum that is Conn Coll’s bubble of existence. Suddenly, we begin to notice the bad qualities about living on a hill, like the wind slapping you in the face at 25 miles per hour when all you want is an Odwalla from Oasis and your next Netflix DVD.

Or perhaps it’s the sudden emergence of snowmen with raging hard-ons and top hats (Frosty! Cover your shame!) on the green that grabs your attention. And if the sudden explosion of couples slow-grinding at all of your Thursday night events (including, but not limited to, dances in Cro, floor parties, that weird couple in the bathroom when you’re brushing your teeth) doesn’t tip you off, then you’re just not paying attention. Or is that just me?

Nonetheless, I digress. Guess what folks! It’s freaking February at Conn!

Now, before you get all despondent and decide to go into hibernation until the spring tent dance (not a terrible idea), I suggest you look around and see what this short but special month offers. Black history events galore; another go-round of Men’s Club Hockey destroying Coast Guard; the occasional snow day and subsequent prance about the arboretum; and as far as this junior can remember, there’s a time honored February tradition at CC: the celebration of the vagina.

Oh yes, my friends. This month the annual performance of The Vagina Monologues, immortalized by Eve Ensler and angry vaginas everywhere, takes place. I’ve been to a performance of this show before, put on by a group of CC’s most brazen (trust me) women, and I had a blast.

I don’t necessarily think it’s the content that makes it such an enjoyable experience as much as it is the performing aspect of it – the guilty joy of seeing girls scream about the vulva, or even more personal, their vulva and then shamelessly looking for the rosy-cheeked, perspiration-induced reaction of the males in the audience, and even some females. Regardless of how comfortable you might be, a lot of the ideas expressed in The Vagina Monologues will inevitably make you uncomfortable and I think that’s what they’re supposed to do – they’re supposed to make the audience think about why the performance seems uncomfortable.

Or perhaps the monologues will make you question why it’s normal to see Taylor Swift (who has a vagina, by the way) in a commercial for another sappy Valentine’s Day movie and not bat an eyelash. Picture Ms. Swift talking to us about her ‘coochie-snorcher’ and I promise you “You Belong with Me” will never be okay to listen to again.

That’s the beauty of The Vagina Monologues – they’re real accounts of real people who want to make you think about something that, at first, seems slightly off-putting. The content is designed to make you stop thinking about what kind of Valentine’s candy you want to buy the girl or boy you’ve been stalking over the new low shelves in the library and start thinking about things that you’re not thinking about.
February is a fantastic month that can quickly evolve into letting yourself become way too self-involved and self-important. So do yourself a favor: get weirdly uncomfortable, weirdly comfortable, or strangely apathetic (not going to happen). Try to think about something new – and if the performance does fail to make you uncomfortable, look to your left and your right and think about why these people next to you might be, because they are. I’ll be in the back doing the exact same think.