Women have traditionally held a place of reverence within human societies. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that it is their bodies that our worshiped rather than their person-hood. And as for respect, it has been much closer to a symbolic gesture than any real comprehension of her existential struggle for meaning in this overwhelming void we call the human condition. So, rather than speaking behind a figurative podium to a curious audience whose eyes are normally fixed on whatever foul creature the stage lights tell them is the authoritarian gate keeper of some secret knowledge, I write this not to inform but to inquire. For who am I to tell those whose struggle is not one that I could ever comprehend nor contemplate with any existential certainty that I, a man, knows what you are lacking and have come to bear those gifts for the benefit of the unknowing? It would be dishonest of me to act as your gatekeeper, to hold before you that which you already carry so heavily within your essence. As to remain honorable to your intellectual, emotional and existential sanctity, I would rather have you receive me as a guest, as a child whose words normally precede interrogative punctuation and upwards inflection. Now, since my position is on my sleeve I must finally ask you: Sister, where do you keep your soul?
Since this era of gender related sociopolitical sensitivity has forced the conscious to speak with a reserved tongue, one cannot help but imagine if those aged brows of yesteryear hidden beneath a shroud of courtesy still crinkle in the face of empowered femininity. Therefore, I find it most appropriate to precede my former question with a more foundational inquiry. Is your person-hood forever cocooned in your imagery? In other words, must your body always precede your soul? As so much psychological discourse and experimentation has uncovered the implicit racism governing the forethought of social interaction it seems irrefutably necessary to ponder if such erroneous judgments are bound only to race. In the history of man, woman has often been subject to the waving of his phallic scepter and has learned the meaning of revolution not unlike many other oppressed classes, i.e., by burning his instruments of conquest. But, it is only fitting to mention that there are still those instruments that do not succumb to the whirling flames of political struggle. The courts cannot hold the subconscious in contempt and marching does not affect that which lies outside of governmental jurisdiction. If it is true that the hierarchical substratum which was once explicitly expressed in our societies has not dissolved but has rather buried itself as a virus that only annoys its host erratically, reminding her every so often of its subversive prosperity, then it seems that the struggle must move from the outward expression of feminist empowerment towards the internal practice of self reflection. As one can only exercise power over the very limited realm in which their will is monarch, the conclusion seems necessary that any further advancements in the feminist movement must happen inside the individual that is the physical and mental manifestation of this intergenerational fight for equality and justice. With that said my sister, once again I must forestall my earliest inquiry and ask: What is a woman beneath the body through which society defines her?
It is not that I wish to denounce those who recognize the potential for the many further advancements that our societies could make in the sphere of such fundamental human rights as equal treatment, compensation and the like. Nor do I wish to chastise those that represent their existential struggles through an outwards expression of sexuality, as it is not my place nor my intention to tell you how to be a woman. But, when one witnesses the youth representing the internal calamity involved in constructing a self image through expressive sexual objectification, it is hard to deny that some souls are captives to some sort of socio-organic totalitarianism. As this is far too convenient for men that desire little beyond sexual gratification, I caution those souls not to lie bare skinned among the carnivorous. It is not that I think you are not strong enough or lack the intelligence required to foresee or avoid the harm that this world so often gift-wraps in smiles and smooth rhetoric, but rather, it is that I am not comfortable with defining what I am convinced is an existentially complex being as nothing more than her flesh, nor am I at ease with such simple self-representations. Sister, is it necessary that your spirit hide behind the vaginal gate of self-appreciation? Are men to satisfy their functional desires at the cost of your spiritual success? Furthermore, must the interactions between individuals of the opposite sex consist essentially of biological appraisals, flagrant egoism and outright trickery?
In this age of expressive individuality, in which both men and women convey an insatiable urge to find themselves through the utilization of personal means, it seems necessary that in order to fully uphold the sanctity of your individuality you must tirelessly question not only the society in which you reside but also the very core of your own being. As I have set out not to lay claim to the complexity of your person-hood, as men have so often placed flags in uncharted territories as to display their triumph over the unknown and the far too often misunderstood, I wish only to present you with my open mind and palms outstretched awaiting your gift of wisdom. With that said my sister… where is it that you keep your soul?
