Last night my wife and I took my kids and her niece to see Shrek: The Musical at the Pensacola Little Theater, and it was a treat! The costumes were fantastic, the setting was amazing, but what I loved the most were the hidden meanings that made me like this modern fairy story in the first place.
My favorite song was “Let Your Freak Flag Fly.” In the play, most of the characters are “outsiders”–the “Big Bad Wolf” is dressed in drag, witches are “not so wicked,” and many of the others are part of the B list fairy stories. What do they tell us? That we should celebrate our differences, and that being divided makes us weak and vulnerable to tyrants and society.
Of course, these characters are the side story, and Shrek and Fiona are the main protagonists. Shrek is definitely not the prince charming, although he rescues Fiona. He does so without violence. He is actually very logical. His whole analogy that ogres are like onions is hilarious yet meaningful. Fiona, as we soon find out, is also an ogre on the inside. She tries to be the typical princess. She shows us that little girls are given expectations based on fairy tales that do not come true. Shrek and Fiona are real life: reality.
One of the most evocative parts that I wish I could have recorded even though I know that’s not cool was when Shrek was mad and hurt and retreated to his swamp to build a wall. A giant green ogre dancing around on stage singing about how a wall was a solution to his problems was just too reminiscent of Donald Trump to go unnoticed.
However, the best example of irony was Lord Farquaad–the tyrant who wants to kick out all of the “freaks” so that he can have his perfect kingdom. His size is a realistic portrayal of his brain more than his body.
I appreciated this play, performed mostly for children, so much that I felt compelled to share. Please share your thoughts as well.
Let’s start a dialogue. I don’t want to be racist. I understand white privilege. I am a feminist. I recently read “Bad Feminist” by Roxane Gay, and I very much see her points. I agree. I will not be “free-bleeding” or whatever the fuck it’s called to not wear a tampon. I will shave my armpits, and my legs, and my vagina. I love some men–my father, my son, my girlfriend’s son, my friends, etc. So, I guess I too am a bad feminist. However, I’m not ashamed to call myself feminist in any situation. I’ve gotten over a lot of shame by coming out as a lesbian, so feminist is something that is low on the totem pole of shame. However, I do understand that there are negative connotations and associations with the term or label because of certain issues. We can’t just tuck our tails and run from these issues, though. Many feminists who fought for women’s rights and suffrage were working with black people to gain the same rights. Even those who weren’t should not carry the name of feminist into the mud. This is a new time, and it’s time that our views on feminism change. It is about empowering all people. Everyone can gain from feminism.
I am ashamed that some people are ashamed to call themselves feminists. While I’m writing this, I was thinking of comparing the idea of being ashamed of feminism to being ashamed of the white race because of the many fools in the white race that take things to the extreme and make me ashamed of my color. Then I thought, I would not be ashamed of anything that feminists do, even if I chose not to do those things, except for excluding people of color, and that’s something that apparently feminists share with white people, so I’m ashamed of racist feminists and white people.
But, not all white feminists are racist. Can I say that I’m not? I do see color. I think color should be embraced. It’s a part of what makes people who they are. It’s their heritage. Saying “I don’t see color” is an insult because it stifles the uniqueness of the people of color. It’s like saying “I don’t see gender.” I want you to see my gender. I love my gender. I get angry when people stick me in a box with all people of my gender (those who love making love to men) because that is not part of my gender identity, but I don’t want you to not see my gender. Asking, “Why do you have to make it about race?” is also ignorant. Because it is about race. It is personal.
I’m not going to claim to have black friends. I don’t. That doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t, it just means that I haven’t made friends with a black person that I hang out with (you’d have to understand the small-town lack of social gatherings, but that’s another blog). However, I have many black colleagues that I respect. I have many black students that I want to see succeed. I want to see equality for all. I want to see fairness for all. I want to see the liberty match the freedom that was granted. Isn’t that what feminism is supposed to be?