Today, guest Blogger Jessica McWhirt, shares how it feels to give back to the community through the empowering performance of this collection of risqué monologues.
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As the word “vagina” broke from my lips, the audience’s eyes widened a little, mouths opened slightly, and wine-filled glasses hung midair awaiting my next words.
Even though my words make my audience recoil in their chairs, I know we’re creating awareness.
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As the word “vagina” broke from my lips, the audience’s eyes widened a little, mouths opened slightly, and wine-filled glasses hung midair awaiting my next words.
Even though my words make my audience recoil in their chairs, I know we’re creating awareness.
It’s not easy to hear taboo subjects, let alone repeat
forbidden words in front of 600 eyes. My Vagina Monologues cast and the
hundreds of casts throughout the world swallow uncomfortable topics and silences
to raise awareness of violence against women. The money we raise from these
performances goes directly to an organization that works to end violence against
women within our community.
“I bet you’re worried,” I say, as I stare directly into the
stranger’s eyes sitting in the front row. “We were worried,” follows. “We were
worried about vaginas.”
I’ve directed The Vagina Monologues for the past three
years and it never gets easier, I just get better at handling people and
details. The women who join my cast are drawn to The Vagina Monologues
just like anyone is drawn to anything. Something in this play hits a nerve: a
sensitive nerve, a hurt nerve, a strong nerve, an angry nerve, a funny nerve, an
abused nerve.
The cast of women and I connect with each other between the
lines in the play; where the details of our lives try to hide, but whenever we
repeat a certain line, the emotional charge it elicits washes over our faces. We
can’t hide our emotions when we practice in front of each other. Some of us
choke it back while others let the tears flow. There’s always a gentle smile or
sincere hug that follows in our group. We won’t hide our emotions.
We connect with our audience as they listen to harsh words
describing rape, and in the same play, the hilariousness of fantasizing about
Burt Reynolds. The energy of our audience wavers and flows just like the moon
pulls the ocean. It’s not an easy task to make someone laugh at the thought of
discovering one’s vagina in one monologue, while another monologue triggers a suppressed
memory. But at the end of each performance, someone leaves touched, unafraid,
and empowered by “vaginas,” growing our Vagina Warrior circle throughout the
community.
We don’t perform these monologues to become stars. We don’t
spend months practicing and memorizing lines just to forget them the day after
our performance. We are slaves to these words because they inevitably free us.
We perform this play to free the men and women in the audience who have been
hurt in the past or are currently hurting in hopes that when they no longer
hurt, it will help others. We do it for ourselves, we do it for each other, and
we do it for our community. We are Vagina Warriors.
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| The cast of the Vagina Monologues - Denver, Colorado |
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| Jessica McWhirt talking to the audience |
Jessica McWhirt is an avid cyclist, activist, and writer. She spends the weekends riding
100s of miles and the nights pouring her soul on to paper. Every February you
can expect her on stage. She co-runs and manages Cyclizing.com and has her own
travel writing blog: jessicaptain.wordpress.com. She does it all with the support
of her cat, Klaus.
