Happy President's Day, Vigdís!

Single mom, theatre artist…and the first woman in the world to be elected head of state in a national election!  Meet Vigdís

If Iceland can do it, so can we!

Here in the U.S. we came close to electing our first female president. But as we all know, we are not playing horseshoes and close doesn’t count; Hillary Clinton did not emerge as the winning candidate. And whatever you may think or feel about that, one thing is for certain: after ‘electing’ the 44th man in a row to hold the highest position in our democracy, we have just sealed a fate featuring four more years of patriarchy.

Men have been elected to serve as president for the past 227 years. Apparently it’s just too soon to trust this position to a woman.

Luckily, the rest of the world doesn’t feel the same. Today we have strong female leaders like Angela Merkel and Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner. And in 1980, the world watched as Iceland elected their first female president, Vigdís Finnbogadóttir. Vigdís is pronounced Vig-deesh – and don’t worry about her last name, as 1) it’s hard to pronounce and 2) it is actually Icalandic custom to refer to people – even their presidents - by their first names, so she is simply ''President Vigdis'' to her people.

And while I want to salute Iceland heartily for electing Vigdís – and let’s just call her Viggy, she’s a theatre person at heart, so I doubt she will mind - I do want to point out that the country is considered the world's oldest parliamentary democracy, with their Parliament, called the Althingi, established in 930.

So….it still took Iceland 1050 years to elect a woman! If those calculations hold true for the United States, then…well, shit. We were born in 1776…by 2826 we should be ready for a female president.

Just hold on for 800 more years, ladies!

But here’s why that may not be true: women like Viggy have paved the way for us. They have done some of the hard work, so that we can have the rights and privileges we enjoy today. They fought for us. And we will not forget them. We cannot give up, and we must learn from the past. With that in mind, here’s more about the woman who ran against three men in the 1980 election…and won. 

Vigdís taught French and French drama at the University, and held French courses on RÚV, Icelandic state television. With a love of the arts, she found others who shared her interest in experimental theatre. She worked with the Reykjavík Theatre Company in the 50s and 60s, and during the summer, she worked as a tour guide eventually becoming the artistic director of the theatre company (later the City Theatre) in 1972. In 1971 at the age of 42 she adopted a daughter, making her the first single woman in Iceland who was allowed to adopt a child.

At this time in her life, while juggling her jobs as a single mom and artistic director, Viggy also participated in numerous rallies held to protest against the U.S. military presence in Iceland. And in 1975, the International Women’s Year, she joined together with her fellow countrywomen in a massive effort to show how undervalued women’s work is. On October 24th, together with 90% of all women in Iceland, she went on strike. The Guardian describes the day:

“Iceland's men were barely coping. Most employers did not make a fuss of the women disappearing but rather tried to prepare for the influx of overexcited youngsters who would have to accompany their fathers to work. Some went out to buy sweets and gathered pencils and papers in a bid to keep the children occupied. Sausages, the favourite ready meal of the time, sold out in supermarkets and many husbands ended up bribing older children to look after their younger siblings. Schools, shops, nurseries, fish factories and other institutions had to shut down or run at half-capacity…For many (women) it was a wake-up call...It was a spur to action and many feel that the solidarity women showed that day paved the way for the election five years later of Vigdis Finnbogadottir, the world's first democratically elected female president.” (The day the women went on strike, The Guardian)

Vigdís describes this as a turning point for her and the women she rallied with on this day: "After October 24, women thought it was time a woman became president," she says. "The finger was pointed at me and I accepted the challenge."

Whether it was the activist in her or the artist in her, she appealed to enough citizens to pull ahead of her opponents in the 1980 presidential race in Iceland, becoming the first woman in the world to be elected as head of state in a democratic election – but please note, that the race was close, and she won by a narrow margin. Sound familiar?

She has said of the election, “The Icelandic people were very courageous to elect a woman.” They were courageous because it was a change from tradition – a tradition that was upheld for more than a thousand years!

The courage paid off. Change paid off. She became very popular in her office, and was reelected three times, until, in 1996 she decided not to run for reelection. While she was president, she took an active role as environmental activist and fought for Icelandic language and culture, acting as a cultural ambassador in promoting the country. In 1986, she hosted a crucial summit between US President Ronald Reagan and Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev. Her motto became: 'Never let the women down' and she worked specifically to promote girls' education.

So - if you think that a rally can’t change things, think again. The 1975 Women’s Strike in Iceland motivated not only Vigdís, but an entire country!

She went on to become founding chair of the Council of Women World Leaders at the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University, and then president of the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization World Commission on the Ethics of Scientific Knowledge and Technology. Since 1998, has been UNESCO’s Goodwill Ambassador for languages.She is also a member of the Fondation Chirac's honour committee, which was launched in 2008 by former French president Jacques Chirac to promote world peace.

So today, on President’s day, I honor YOU, Vigdís! Thank you for all you have done, for all you do! You are what a president should be: supportive of all your people, speaking for those who have not historically had a voice in governance, working to maintain peace, and holding a true understanding of the value of the arts in our world. You are an inspiration to me. 

Happy President’s Day, Vigdís!

Sources / More reading:

http://www.iceland.is/iceland-abroad/fr/english/news-and-events/vigdis-finnbogadottir-is-convinced-that-women-can-save-the-planet/8472/

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2005/oct/18/gender.uk

http://www.guide2womenleaders.com/Presidents.htm

http://www.nytimes.com/1982/09/08/garden/iceland-s-president-dispels-some-myths.html

http://onward.nationalgeographic.com/2013/10/24/coffee-with-a-woman-who-changed-iceland/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vigd%C3%ADs_Finnbogad%C3%B3ttir

https://www.britannica.com/biography/Vigdis-Finnbogadottir

Just In: Stand-up Comedy Rated Most Sexist Industry, Outpacing Porn by 3.7%

“You just may be too sensitive for this.”

I cannot think of any other industry that turns paying customers away because of perceived “sensitivity”. There are some industries that have age limits, and some antiquated establishments that still have gender limits or discriminate according to sexual orientation.

And yet, I have heard from not one, not two, but a few comics – all male, by the way – that I just may be too sensitive to enjoy comedy – or at least certain brands of it. Surprisingly, I have yet to hear that from one OWNER of a comedy club.

And here’s the thing: comics don’t get paid a lot. There are more comics than there are stages. I would think that comics would be trying to BUILD their audiences, not turn them away. And guess what, guys – and yes, this IS aimed at guys because stand-up comedy is still largely dominated by men – women have money to spend too! But you know what? You look around most comedy rooms, and who do you see?

Mostly men.

Do you think women don’t like to laugh? We do. But some of the humor that is flung at us from comics is not only sexist and/or degrading – it’s Just. Not. Funny. It’s often simple and stereotypical.

We ALL know that the best comedy comes from Real Life. How any comic can spend a year or a decade doing material that is simple and stereotypical is beyond me.

Wait – I do know how they get laughs. They get laughs from the small-minded people who buy into stereotypes. But they don’t get laughs from me.

But instead of trying to make their material smarter, they keep doing the same tired stuff. Instead of letting us into their lives like the best writers, actors, and musicians do, they play it safe and tell jokes at the expense of people they don’t know, jokes that offend, jokes that aren’t that funny at all.

Instead of working harder on their craft, they tell me that maybe I’m just too sensitive to enjoy their work.

They alienate women like me – women who WANT to see comedy, who are perfectly willing to spend money on comedy tickets, but don’t want to be disappointed and uncomfortable. And I can say “women” in the plural because I have spoken to many other women on this topic, and heard them speak of feeling uncomfortable, sometimes so much they wanted to leave / did leave / decided not to return.

Chris Rock puts it well: good comedy is not focused on WHAT PEOPLE ARE – it is focused on WHAT PEOPLE DO. Once a comedian realizes this – that the real laughs roll in when they’ve described a funny scenario – then they can have a real career ahead of them – a career to feel proud of. And maybe a more inclusive career, maybe?

So call me sensitive. Call all women sensitive, if you want. But when you do, know that there are many, many women who feel just as I do, but won’t take the time to say it. But it’s fine - there are comics we think are funny, and we’ll wait til they come to town.

And so, dear comedians, just know that every time you make a small-minded, racist / sexist / size-est joke, it reflects on you AND the venue. So for all comedy club owners – unless you are selling out every night, unless you are rolling in dough, then please: push these comics harder. You may THINK that the best judge of a joke is how it lands with an audience; but here’s the thing – many people will laugh because their friend or partner is laughing. Many women will give a nervous laugh. And still others will fake their laugh.

And if you don’t think that women know how to fake a laugh, then the joke really is on you.

“Some People Just Look Better Dancing Than Others” or, Why I Stopped Dancing At Age 16

It’s my junior year of high school, and a catastrophe occurs: I cannot be in BOTH intro to calculus AND varsity choir. As much as I would like to drop intro to calculus, I need it for my honors degree. I am not alone in this mess; Sara Geiger is also in both classes. Somehow, a miraculous solution is revealed: Sara and I are placed in…SHOW. CHOIR.

Jazz hands!!! Step-ball-change! More smiles, more smiles, more smiles!

I had always known I had the VOICE for show choir – and the hair - but I never thought I could have the MOVES. I had never taken a dance class before, and when my sister took me to gymnastics as a child, I left in tears after they demanded a reverse somersault. The pressure! The humiliation! I had, of course, auditioned for Show Choir, which is the penultimate choir experience, but had not made the cut. But now, here I was, by a fluke, by the grace of God, I didn’t care how, but I was IN!

And now that I have been given this opportunity, I am not about to blow it. I practice and practice and practice some more. I stay late with my girlfriends who patiently go over the dance steps that seem to come so easily to them, but are so challenging to me – you know, the girl who had been branded a ‘bull in a china shop’ by my father for one-too-many glasses knocked over in the house, the girl who was about 2 inches taller and 50 pounds heavier than almost every boy in show choir, the girl who had begun to believe that she ACTUALLY had 2 left feet…

In spite of my perceived and questionably earned reputation of gracelessness, I TRY.  And you know what? I get it. I get every step, and I am actually having FUN while singing and dancing! My dreams of BEING Olivia Newton John and Whitney Houston all at once don’t seem so unachievable after all!

I spend my Junior Year singing and dancing – “Goodbye Joe, me gotta go, me-oh-my-oh” “you will be who you want to be, you, can choose whatever heaven grants. As long as you can have the chance, I swear I’ll give my life for you. No one can stop what I must do, I swear I’ll give my life…for you.” “start the car I know I whoopee spot where the gin is cold but the piano’s hot!” it’s a wonderful year.

At the end of my junior year, we have tryouts for Show Choir, and although the unspoken rule is that once you are in, you are in, does it hold true if you got in by a fluke?

In any case, I am confident that my hard work and my voice will earn me a position. I got better and better over the past year. I go into the audition confident, and I nail all the dance steps and the song.

After auditions, we wait. You know, that horrendous waiting period where you pretend not to really care, but you really, really do? Where you tell your friend, I’ll be happy with whatever I get, but you both know that this is a bold-faced lie?

Finally, the list is posted fro all to see. We crowd around it.

Show choir:

• Andy Smith
• Ryan Steffen
• Jennifer Rumbach
• Leah Robberts
• Sara Geiger…

Where’s my name? Where is my name!?

Heart sinks. I try to fight back tears. I’ve been demoted to Varsity Choir.

I find our choir director, Mr. Dreamcrusher, in his office. Like most of the girls, I used to like Mr. Dreamcrusher, who is only about ten years older than us, young and cool. Unlike many of the boys in high school, he is taller than me, and mature. He is funny and smart, and even though he is gay, I’d fantasized about a torrid forbidden teacher-student romance in which he’d sweep me off my feet, because I was the one woman he couldn’t resist.

“I don’t understand…I…I got all the moves. I thought I was good. I thought I would be in show choir again this year.”

“You got all the moves, but…"

He looks at me as if I should know how that sentence is going to end. I don't thought. Finally, he sighs and said, "Yes, you got the moves, but...well, some people just look better dancing than others, Rachael.”

Some people just look better dancing than others?

Some people just look better dancing than others???

I feel as though I have shrunk to the size of the tip of his pencil, and then I feel as though I am not even that big, but just a fleck of eraser dust…Mr. Dreamcrusher erased my name from the show choir roster, and in one fell swoop, because I am young, and I believe what he says, he erases what little self-confidence I had built up.

I want to disappear.

I love singing too much to give it up, and so I take my place in Varsity Choir my senior year, and of course, I am ok.

I head off to DePauw University, where my singing talent is encouraged and recognized. During our freshman year, we are required to take one phys-ed class, and I’m thinking swimming or tennis. Maybe fencing? What’s that on the list? Ballroom dancing? I look at my advisor who is patiently waiting my decision. I claw my way through a sea of “some people just look better dancing” and I muster all the guts I can and I say…ballroom dancing.

I am taller than my dance partner. I want to lead instead of follow. I have to turn off the voice in my head that clamors, you can’t dance! You don’t look GOOD dancing!

My professor is incredibly encouraging, and I find that I can feel the rhythm, and I can learn to follow – as long as I have a strong partner. My high school choir room becomes a dusty memory.

At DePauw, I get cast in operas, plays, and musicals. I sing, act, direct and…dance. I’m the Witch in Into the Woods, and I play Sarah in a dance-heavy show, the musical Company by Stephen Sondheim. It is my junior year at DePauw, and I am working with this same dance instructor from my freshman year. I learn every single step and I dance and sing and smile and you know what?

I look good!

I do a kick-line with the rest of the ensemble and we get applause every single night as we swing our legs to the music.

And each time I kick, I am thinking, take that, Mr. Dreamcrusher! And that! 

I found my way back to the dance floor, and I haven't left since. And more and more, I don't even care how "good" I look dancing...I just care about how much fun I am having! 

So here's my challenge for you: find your favorite dance song, turn it up ALL. THE. WAY. And just dance!!!