On a journey: East Berlin, Germany

On a journey: East Berlin, Germany

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Occupy and Reclaim

I'm in the middle of a truly riveting book, Girls to the Front: The True Story of the Riot Grrrl Revolution by Sara Marcus. It chronicles the rise and eventual unintentional disbandment of a social revolution that was started by girls in various parts of the United States during the late 80s. As punk rock arrived on the scene and flourished in the Pacific Northwest and DC (the parts of the U.S. that are most specifically discussed in the book), more and more women and girls found themselves excluded from the forefront of the movement, and sought out a presence to make themselves heard and supported. Forming bands, writing zines, and playing music served as an effective and powerful tool in communicating stronger support for organizations like Planned Parenthood and rape crisis centers, and also for a society that would no longer tolerate abuse against women and girls. The book is beautifully written, with smart lyricism that speaks to anyone who was alive during the 90s. 

During the past few weeks, a fire that burned inside me for many years has been relit. I grew up in a strict Jain Marwari family, where observing obstinate traditions and playing specific and limited gender roles (for both men and women) were the accepted norms. My paternal grandmother was brilliant but misunderstood, with an IQ that was supposedly off the charts. My maternal grandmother was a hard worker and possessed a great deal of wisdom, but was belittled for her sometimes odd idiosyncrasies and struggled to earn respect from the men in her family. My own mother and other women of her generation subsequently did not have access to continuing education, and were placed in traditional familial roles, despite their courage, intellect, and enthusiasm for learning and absorbing. Due to these preventative circumstances, my mother encouraged my sister and me to fully develop and not be afraid to step up to bat. As I look at my life up to now, I really do wonder if I have done all of these women enough justice. 

My older sister spent much of her childhood contemplating and challenging some of the social rules that we girls and young women were expected to follow ("Why should I sit that way? I like sitting this way." "Why can't guys look at my face when I speak? I have breasts, DEAL WITH IT."). After realizing what possibilities existed in the world of college grassroots organizations, she quickly became involved with the feminist majority on her campus, and eventually become a top leader in the organization. She also studied abroad in India, and worked in women's clinics and with battered women. I idolized my sister (still do in many ways) and followed in her footsteps, championing my own passionate causes in high school, including sexual orientation by co-leading my high school's Gay-Straight Alliance. These activist pangs continued through out college in liberal Boston, where Bush had recently declared war on Afghanistan and Iraq, and the protests to be attended were of no small number. It seemed as though so many communities and people needed voices, and I wanted to help in some way. 

I moved to Germany, and somehow, everything sort of shut off. I became engrossed in music, and threw myself into understanding and exploring European culture and its musical roots. Gone were the days of passionate protesting, although I continue to sign petitions for various causes every single day. Also, the arts were enough of a cause to occupy my mind for a long time. As bankers made billions, the arts lost billions in funding. It seemed as though the only ways to survive in today's hostile world were to become a doctor (preferably specializing in something like dermatology so that you could rake in a good salary), use your intellect to sell out to Wall Street and Corporate America, or to marry a rich asshole. 

But beyond the whole 'how the hell do I survive' thing, I find myself also questioning the arts, and specifically, classical music. What are we trying to achieve with it? Are we relevant today? Is sitting in an orchestra and playing for a very specific and limited class of people the best that I can possibly do? 

In 2011, nearly twenty years after the Riot Grrrl Revolution that occurred when I was just seven years old, it seems as though many of the same problems are coming back in full swing. Just last year, we had to forge a battle to save Planned Parenthood yet again. Female politicians and leaders are still critiqued and observed foremost from a sexual/physical standpoint. It's hard to believe, but we are in fact still at war. I'm just not sure about what to think of President Obama anymore. And closer to home, the Vienna Philharmonic only just appointed its first female concertmaster, Albena Danailova, in 2010 (side note: I don't even know what to call the position: female concertmaster, concertmastress, concertmistress? No one on the internet seems to know, either, because we haven't had this situation occur often enough, it seems), and everyone is thrilled about this. 2010? Really, guys? 

Weren't these issues supposed to have been resolved in the 90s? Why do people have to protest on Wall Street (again)? And why are we gloating about women in orchestras in 2011 when women have been revolutionizing rock and roll for literally decades? Why is classical music seemingly behind the social times? Or are women in rock music purely another money-making facade accessory? In which type of industry (besides sex trafficking) have women truly flourished? What is it going to take to create truly sustainable change, and what is my role in all of it? What can I do?