When I heard about Alex Schnee, an author and student at Sarah Lawrence college, and her recently published novel, Shakespeare’s Lady, I knew that I had to talk with her. We decided to Skype about both publishing books around the same time, what our experiences were like and why some view young women our age as complacent.

Julie Zeilinger: Ok, so can you just start by explaining briefly what your book is about?

Alex Schnee: Sure. It’s about the “dark lady” of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Nobody really knows who she is, but I found a woman living at that time who has been propositioned as the dark lady by several scholars. I tried to weave together a fictional romance between William Shakespeare and this woman, Emilia Bassano Lanier.

Julie: How did you decide to write about that topic in particular? Was it born from a literature-based love of Shakespeare, a historical perspective, both?

Alex: It was definitely both. I was writing a report on Shakespeare and his sonnets and I thought it was kind of strange how very few people actually knew about the dark lady or who she was. I’ve loved Shakespeare and that time period ever since I was a kid so it was a very fun project for me.

Julie: Can you explain how you came to be published at such a young age? What was the experience like for you?

Alex: I had been taking a writing class with author Tricia Goyer. I showed her some of the manuscript and she encouraged me to attend the Mount Hermon Writers’ Conference in Santa Cruz, California. She thought I should pitch the novel to some editors and agents–which was kind of intimidating when I was seventeen! But everyone was really nice and interested in the story.

Julie: Had it always been a goal of yours to get published? Or was it something that just happened based on the experience of going to the conference?

Alex: I’ve always wanted to be a writer, so it was a dream I kind of always had. I hadn’t ever expected it to happen when I was so young, though. I was really lucky to be in the right place at the right time.

Julie: Yeah, that’s how I felt about my book, A Little F’d Up– I just felt a lot of self-doubt because of my age.

Alex: Has it been difficult to balance school work and having a book published at the same time?

Julie: It’s been difficult, especially since I got to college and everything stepped up academically. People asked me that a lot in high school, and the thing was it was never difficult for me to balance the actual work in high school with writing the book, the issue was always more this weird dynamic that existed between me and other people because I was writing the book. There wasn’t animosity, but it was just sort of like I was the girl writing a book and I think it made people look at me differently. How was handling that balance for you? Did you write the book in high school?

Alex: I wrote it in high school, too. It was a lot of the same thing you were describing. There were a lot of people who were really supportive and there were some who weren’t so much. I guess you have to learn to separate the opinions of the people who are important to you and the ones of those who aren’t.

Julie: True. It’s something I think a lot about because I’m always asked if teen girls today are complacent and while I think that teen girls are capable of so much, I also think they’re afraid of the backlash that often comes with “overachieving” (even if “overachieving” really might just mean living up to your potential).

Alex: That’s a great point. I feel like sometimes it’s hard for girls to feel comfortable pursuing their dreams. And teen girls can accomplish so much if they put their minds to it.

Julie: So do you consider yourself a feminist? It seems like there’s a feminist thread to the topic of your novel.

Alex: I do consider myself a feminist, though it wasn’t something I was particularly passionate about as a teen. I’ve always believed in equal rights and equal pay for women, but it wasn’t really a topic that was apparent to me as I wrote the book. Only after I started attending Sarah Lawrence did I really realize that these were important societal issues to me–and that as women we’ve struggled with our rights even as far back as Shakespeare’s time.

Julie: Yeah, it’s interesting I just finished my first year of college and there was this clear difference I noticed just in the course of the year where girls who at the beginning didn’t really seem interested that much in feminism were starting to pick up on it more and becoming more interested in it by the end of the year. Was there something specific that happened during your time at college that made you more interested or was it more of a gradual thing?

Alex: I took a class in ancient Greek art, and it was amazing to me how there was constant allusion to the idea of matriarchy in Greek art. Greek mythology is the basis for my second book, and I was fascinated by the idea that women were once such an important part of religious ideology in the ancient world. I ended up writing a conference project, which is kind of like a mini-thesis at Sarah Lawrence, about how women were perceived in ancient Greece. I think that was what really got me thinking about our place as women in the world–historically and today.

Julie: That’s fascinating. Well, thank you for taking the time to talk with me and I look forward to reading Shakespeare’s Lady!

Alex: Thanks!

I hope that my conversation with Alex can be a starting point for a greater conversation in the FBomb community. To all the aspiring writers out there — I want to hear about your writing processes and experiences as well. Have you guys written essays, short stories, novels (etc) and are interested in publishing? What motivates and inspires you and what do you feel holds you back? And if you have published your work, please feel free to tell us about it here — God knows I plug my book on here, now it’s your turn.

Speaking of which, Shakespeare’s Lady is available at Amazon and Barnes and Noble, and A Little F’d Up is also sold at Barnes and Noble and Amazon.

Over the past several months, I’ve begun to watch competitive cooking shows obsessively. I mean, I don’t really know how to turn on my own oven and have never cooked anything in my life, but watching food shows has given me a desire to learn how to cook something simple…someday in the far future. But while these competitive food shows are certainly good for cooking tips, I couldn’t help but notice that women are largely underrepresented.

One of my favorite shows is Chopped, where four professional chefs are given a very short amount of time to make a dish composed of three or four random ingredients. There is usually only one female competitor on each episode. Every once in a while, you’ll see two women, but it’s unusual. There was only one episode I can remember where all four competitors were female, and the rarity of such an occurrence was pointed out by one of the judges.

Iron Chef, which is probably one of the biggest competitive cooking shows out there, has noticeably few women. In the show, a chef challenges one of the Iron Chefs to a cook-off. There were no female Iron Chefs on the original Japanese version. I don’t watch the show that often, but I’ve never seen an episode with a female competitor. I don’t think my perception of the show as a boys’ club is too far off, since Wikipedia’s section on notable challengers lists twenty men’s names.

To the Food Network’s credit, teams of judges on these shows tend to be closer to equal in terms of gender representation (although not quite). Of the 18 professional chefs and restaurateurs that have served as judges on Chopped, seven are female, and two out of five judges that have served on every season are female. There’s almost always at least one or two women on the judging panels of Iron Chef, Iron Chef America, and Next Iron Chef. On every season of The Next Food Network Star, two out of four judges were female.

Also, interestingly enough, the pastry and dessert shows feature more women than men. Cupcake Wars, where competitors have to bake themed cupcakes for an event, is Chopped’s opposite: usually there are three female competitors and one male, and every once in a while there are two men. Sweet Genius, pastry chef Ron Ben-Israel’s way to find up-and-coming dessert artists, usually features two women and two men. Challenge, an extreme cake competition, also averages out at two men and two women. Perhaps this is because desserts are seen as less intense or less difficult to prepare than “serious” gourmet cooking, and therefore women are allowed to participate in equal numbers (even though that’s bullshit).

If these shows are supposed to represent reality, it surprises me that there aren’t more women in the professional cooking field. The Food Network seriously needs to work on equal representation of men and women chefs in their shows.

On May 15th, my first book will be published. This fact is not a result of some pretentious belief that at 19, my writing skills have been so carefully honed to the point that my work must be shared with the world. It was not some ploy to get into college. Contrarily, writing this book was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, and something I almost didn’t do. But it was also an experience that completely transformed me, and for which I will forever be thankful.

After a year of running the FBomb, I was approached to write a book about the next generation of feminism. I tried to explain that the FBomb was always meant to be a community – a place I may have started, but a place accessible to everybody, and composed of a diverse array of voices, not just my own. I didn’t view myself as a leader so much as an organizer and perhaps a creator. Who the hell was I to impose my beliefs on the world?

But then I realized I had to ask myself: is this reluctance to write a book based on my belief that feminism should be a collective effort rather than driven by singled-out leaders, or is it based on fear? Am I so scared of doing something I know virtually nothing about, of putting my voice out into the world in one of the most definitive ways possible and of the criticism that will inevitably follow that I’m going to turn down an opportunity that is not only personally valuable, but from which others very well might gain something?

The answer, I found, was both, and while I respected and still do respect the former, the latter was simply unacceptable. I had always considered myself to be a strong, independent woman – I identified as a feminist in high school in Ohio for God’s sake: I clearly wasn’t afraid of at least some criticism thrown my way — and yet here I was, frankly terrified of positioning myself as a leader. My feelings had clearly surpassed modesty and had entered the clear terrain of self-doubt and lack of confidence. It was then that I knew that writing this book was something I had to do in order to be the woman that I wanted to be and knew I could be. So I agreed to write the book. Specifically, I agreed to write it my way, and figuring out what that actually meant turned out to be the most transformative experience of my life.

From the first second I agreed to write the book, I constantly had to make Big Decisions. Previously, the biggest decisions I’d had to make was whether or not it was appropriate to still go trick or treating in high school (and that didn’t even turn out to be a hard decision – free candy is free candy whether its given to you with a smile or a disgusted scowl). Since I had no plans to delay school to write the book, I first had to decide whether or not to write it with a ghostwriter. I immediately shut down that idea. I knew if I was going to write a book, I was going to write every single damn word.

I also had to make the decision of whether or not to express the feminist beliefs that I knew were technically “correct” – the ones that were mainstream, the ones the fewest number of people would disagree with – or whether to express the feminist movement in which I believe. I believe that feminism for my generation is different than any other previous generation’s feminism. Our activism is online, the issues we deal with are subtler and require more dialogue and support to tackle. I strongly believe that while we must take feminist issues like violence against women and double standards (just to name a couple) seriously, we don’t have to take ourselves too seriously – that there’s more than enough room for love and laughter in this movement and that, in fact, feminism thrives on humor and support. I decided to write what I believe and what I know to be true, and to write it in my own voice (not some scholarly, posturing voice of what I thought a “writer” should sound like). I know full well that there will inevitably be feminists who disagree with me. But then again, I’ve found that there will always be people, feminist or not, who disagree with everything/anything I say and/or believe, and that pandering to them is pointless.

I had to make decisions after the book itself was written. During the editorial process I had to fight the urge to simply agree with every change my editors made – which I’d always done before, ever the good student – and fight for my words and beliefs to make the cut. I had to decide on a cover, opting away from images that ranged from weirdly sexual to bubble-gum girly, ultimately deciding on one that felt right to me.

All of these decisions seemed so daunting, so life-threateningly serious while I was making them. But ultimately, they ended up being simple. Whereas I started the process in a place of self-doubt, I ended it knowing exactly what I wanted to say, exactly what I had to do. As it turns out, I always had a strong sense of self, a definitive sense of my personal limitations and definitions of what’s right and wrong for me. I just had to learn how to listen to myself and how to express it. I don’t know how long it would’ve taken me to figure that out had I not written this book, which is why, even if this book only sells 15 copies to my family and high school frenemies (who are really only interested in hate-reading it to more effectively hone their animosity towards me), I will always be proud of this book and will always be thankful for the experience it gave me.

This week, weighing in at about 8 ounces, and after years of labor (seriously, I feel like the age at which I will have an actual child just got pushed back 5 years after this experience), I am proud to (officially) welcome A Little F’d Up: Why Feminism Is Not A Dirty Word into the world. I am in love with it. I hope you will be, too.

A Little F’d Up is now available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other independent book sellers on May 15th.

courtesy of hollaback, which everybody should check out: http://www.ihollaback.org/

Dear leering men on street corners and subway cars staring and grabbing your crotches:

It’s me…the eighteen-year-old girl who is probably just one of many you all have directed your attentions to over the past seven years. Anyhoo, I’m just writing to express my sincere thanks for your behavior.

In my opinion there is nothing more attractive than a man who makes me scared to walk down the street—and that whole grabbing your crotch and licking your lips bit? I think it’s so sexy how you make it known what you want, regardless of my consent.

Sure, I’ve yelled back a couple of times, but you were right when you called me a bitch for doing that or told your friend that I wanted you. When I yelled “f**ck off” I really meant “do you want to go out sometime?” When I ignored your “hey, beautiful”s, it was probably just me playing hard to get. And don’t let my fast-paced walking after you yell at me deter you—I’m running away because I like you.

So basically, I just wanted to say that yes, your tactics are working. The creative names you call me on streets all over the world are ever so endearing, and that time you tried to follow me into my house after school was so cute. Keep up the lip-licking, cat-calling, whistling, and staring…it’s getting you really far with all those girls you’re chasing.

Sincerely,

A Veteran of the Sidewalk

Fiona writes for Rachel Simmons’ blog and Barbara’s Angels

Over the past few weeks, there has been an influx of accepted students on Barnard’s campus. I’ve tried to talk to as many as possible, successfully resisting the urge to desperately grab them and urge them to get as much sleep as possible before Fall, and instead asking them if they have any questions about what it’s like to go to Barnard. Time and time again, these prospective students mentioned their trepidation about the idea of attending a women’s college — which is something I totally understand.

When I initially began the college application process, I had absolutely no interest in attending a single sex institution. In fact, I knew exactly what I wanted in a school. I wanted to go to a small liberal arts school in New York City that was full of intelligent, impassioned and driven students, dedicated professors who would take a personal interest in their students rather than put them on the backburner in favor of their own research or hand them over to T.A.’s, an amazing alumni network with plentiful internship opportunities, an excellent women’s studies department and an emphasis on writing across the board. And that school is Barnard College – a school that also happens to be single sex.

Now there have always been those who like to defame women’s colleges as sexist, outdated institutions – especially some vocal ones in the recent past. Much like feminism itself, most people seem to believe that we currently live in a society of complete equality and that the idea of a college just for women is simply unnecessary and unneeded. In fact, before I started applying to schools, I was one, to some extent. But now that I have a full year of a women’s college education under my belt, I have to say I’d be willing to defend my experience against the staunchest of opponents.

In fact, to be fair, I actually understand where some people are coming from when they say women’s colleges are sexist. It does seem at least a little hypocritical for women to denounce all-male institutions and demand they become co-ed (like we did with Ivy League schools, for example) and yet insist on maintaining women’s colleges. But here’s the thing: despite many an ardent attempt on the part of some to convince the world we are post-feminism, we still live in a society that is overwhelmingly patriarchal and male-favoring. And while men are still in control, while only 12 Fortune 500 Companies are currently run by women, and women make up only about 17% of the United States Congress, it’s clear that we need to do something to counteract this reality and work towards a world of gender equality.

This is where women’s colleges come in. Women’s colleges prioritize the education of strong, motivated women and encourage them to be the leaders of tomorrow. While it’s true that successful, powerful women do (obviously) graduate from co-ed universities as well, that goal is not prioritized or promoted in the same way at those institutions. And sometimes, female students have the potential to be leaders, to achieve great things, but need an extra push. The effect of attending a school that constantly holds up this standard for its students should not be underestimated – in fact, it’s effectiveness is reflected in the statistics of women’s college graduates.

But beyond the debate over whether a single-sex education is sexist, many of my high school friends were more preoccupied with the idea of me isolating myself from men. Wouldn’t I get sick of girls? Didn’t I want a boyfriend? Or was I actually just a closeted lesbian, hoping to explore my sexuality (one of the many women’s college stereotypes)? And besides, they figured, the world is co-ed: how was separating myself from men helping me?

The truth is, I have met plenty of guys at both Columbia and NYU and live in a city that is full of guys – and Barnard is not the only women’s college near other co-ed colleges. In my opinion, the women’s college experience isn’t about isolating yourself from men as much as it is about really working on female relationships and women-based communities– something I think we could use a lot more of in this society. Young women today are encouraged to completely tear apart other girls. We’re told we must compare ourselves to other girls constantly and compete with them – the effects of which are none too healthy. But at a women’s college, that sense of competition is slowly stripped away. Female friendships are more authentic and we’re free to be ourselves and explore who we really are, the effects of which last a lifetime, even when we’re back in a co-ed world. As for the sexuality point, my sexuality did not factor into my decision to attend a women’s college in any way (nor did it for any of my friends here, as far as I know). I attend school with women who are straight, gay, bisexual and undecided. But I’m pretty sure that’s the case at any college in this country.

I totally recognize that a single-sex education is probably not right for everybody. It’s a very specific experience, and one that should be chosen with careful consideration. But the fact is that on an individual level, attending a women’s college was one of the best decisions I’ve made for myself as a student and as a woman, and it’s something I’ll always be happy to defend.

Originally posted on The Frisky

never blame yourself

There you are at three in the morning, sprawled out on someone else’s bed in a foreign room that smells like sex. Your body doesn’t even feel like yours — it feels like you’re standing over yourself, watching something happen to you. You’re not quite able to explain what’s going on. Confused. Dissembled. Disgusted. Shocked. So many feelings you can’t quite put together to equate to that word. And yet there it is: Rape. It finally pops up into your head three weeks later after you come back from Thanksgiving break — your first break during your first term in college.

No this wasn’t me. This was an 18-year-old freshmen living a couple doors down from me. Let’s say her name is Barbara.

The worst part is Barbara and I went to the same party that night. But she decided to stay the night there, trusting her friends from her sports team to watch after her. She wanted to help clean after the party, she told my friend and l. We left after questioning her a couple times, just making sure she really wanted to stay. It wasn’t her first time staying the night there and as far as we knew nothing had happened to her before.

That night a boy carried her upstairs and took advantage of her. She was raped when every other drunk person had passed out, at around 5 am when even if she had yelled they would have thought it was out of pleasure. He lifted her and carried her upstairs playfully and she thought of it only as a joke. She expected him to let her down. But then he raped her and left her dumbfounded. She didn’t realize it was rape: he never asked for consent but she never said yes. She blamed herself. Just like most girls do.

She only realized what had really happened when she noticed how absently she had acted in front of her family during Thanksgiving. She told the police, informed the coach of her sports team (since that’s what the party was for and everyone on the team was there), and now goes to counseling. She had to pay at least $300 to get checked for STDs. She has to get checked again in a couple of months as well. Just a concrete price to pay in addition to the emotional one.

Fast forward two months: it’s Winter term and some friends and I see him in the dining hall. He smiles at the three of us — the three of us that were there at that party and all live on the same hall as Barbara — as he and another girl (a future victim?) wait for their food. My eyes meet his and I suddenly feel disgusted, like I might vomit.

One in five women are expected to get raped sometime during their college years. So what are we supposed to do? Not even go to college? Just kill ourselves on the spot to avoid excruciating mental and physical pain that will last the rest of our lives? Enroll in the most expensive advanced self-defense course and go broke? Make best friends with the tallest, buffest football player and drag him along wherever we go? I think not.

We have to speak out against rapists. We can’t remain silent. It was hard for Barbara, but she did speak out. She realized that it wasn’t her fault. I only wish all survivors could realize the same thing.

Please check out Take Back The Night’s resources for survivors of rape. 

my fine place of work

I work as a bagger in a grocery store where the majority of my co-workers are male. Ever heard someone say something like, “To him, women are just a piece of meat?” Well, that’s the mentality of most guys at my work place.

The men at my workplace discuss women a lot. They have a phrase for them even: they call women “burgers.” Often when a few guys are on break or about to get off work, they talk with the other guys about how they are going to go get some “burgers.” Then they discuss what they want on their “burgers.” Lettuce for pubic hair. Bacon for under age of consent. Toasted bun if they want the girl to be intoxicated. And so on. If they do something to those women that makes them emotional, which I can only imagine is something awful, they call it “leaving a mess” for the next guy.

Because I do not live in a city, and have not had many jobs, this is new to me. We recently had to watch videos on sexual harassment at work, but the sexual harassment has not stopped, nor has anything real been done to counter this problem. It makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me shake with rage. It makes me tear up at the fact that these guys have so little respect for women that they really believe that they are only meat to be consumed. Rarely are any of my co-workers over the age of 22, but the older ones indoctrinate the younger ones, who are often as young as 16. It’s so upsetting to me that they speak like this and that they don’t care if I am around to hear it. It’s so frustrating not to be able to tell anyone, because I know all that will happen is another round of educational films that will just be ignored.

On the rare occasion that I do tell anyone about it, I get the age old “boys will be boys” or “So? Aren’t they allowed to have their sexuality?” It’s so very frustrating to have to explain dehumanization to every person I seek advice from. How has anyone dealt with this situation? How can I deal with it when all I want to do is quit, yet do not have the luxury of being able to lose my job over this, nor a boss that will do anything with my plea for attention to this situation?

To know that to these men I am nothing if I am not attractive, and if I am attractive then I am meat, scares me. To them, women are not human. Not people that exist and have lives of their own, feelings and beliefs. They are “burgers” to be consumed by their sexual appetites and left to be someone else’s “mess.”

I fear what will happen if I bring this up to a manager since some of them are also in that group that uses “burger” lingo. If I am less than human now, without having done anything more than just existing, what more will I be to them but a target if I do speak up?

A-woo, GLI, that is my heart’s desire!
A-woo, GLI, I love it, I love it, I love it!

So goes the celebratory chant of the Girls Leadership Institute. For three weeks over the summer of 2011, GLI was my camp. For the rest of my life, it will be one of my fondest memories.

I did not want to go, for no other reason then I felt lazy and the idea of an all-girls camp seemed silly to me. I’m a feminist, but I feel no need to seek out sisterhood. Reluctantly, I packed my bags and arrived at Smith College.

Every day and every night, something happens at GLI. I can’t think of a single moment I was bored there. Between the projects, the impromptu Bananagrams, and legitimate adventures like rope climbing, there isn’t enough time for boredom.

Another daily part of GLI is workshop. Workshop is the “school” of GLI, if school taught with skits and bubble paints and handed out life lessons instead of trig problems. I was not the most open person to the idea of sharing feelings. I’ve always been closed off from my emotional side. GLI taught me when and how to use my feelings. Very rarely do we get the chance to genuinely discuss how we really feel and what that means, but GLI teaches you those rare things. Like most rare things, its value is immeasurable.

There are several projects and intensives each year at GLI, and I took a theatre class and a poetry and movement class. I’ve always loved writing, and this gave me a chance to experiment and learn from truly amazing teachers. This was the first place I preformed my pieces in public. The amount of confidence that comes from sharing the words you love with people you love is incomparable. Sharing my writing has become part of my life and my relationships, creating some deep bonds.

The teachers, by the way, are the most amazing women in the world. Seriously, I think I talked to all of them at least once, and I felt comfortable with all of them. My fellow campers were equally impressive. The pure love could be felt every step of the way. My grandmother died while I was at camp, and the support was unparalleled. I will never forget that. I still keep in touch with the counselors and campers. Always, the support remains. We talk about our latest projects and remember our adventures and the spirit lives on. I know that as long as I can find my way to the GLI group, I can find my way to amazing, interesting, inspiring, fierce, fabulous females.

Sometimes, I’ll stop and think “They would be so proud.” When I’m confronting a friend without exploding, or sharing how I feel with a significant other, I know that this skill is one of the most important tools that I have. Being able to realize that I’m not just angry, but also hurt, has helped me identify and deal with issues that I’ve had with the people I love.

I haven’t mentioned everything. I wouldn’t dare to try to do that. It’s better to find out on your own. GLI has something for everyone, from the freaky artist to the infamous good girl. If you have a goal, this is the place to realize it.

A-woo, GLI, that is my heart’s desire!
A-woo, GLI, I love it, I love it, I love it!