“Relations” discussion of CC sexuality a little too well rehearsed

Photo: Elena Ketelsen

Photo: Elena Ketelsen

Photo: Elena Ketelsen

Photo: Elena Ketelsen

Photo: Elena Ketelsen

Photo: Elena Ketelsen

Sex is awesome. Not awesome in the obnoxious corrupted sense that allows it to be applied as an adjective to everything from sneakers to Cheetos, but inspiring of awe, staggering, sublime. Small wonder then, that we as a culture have so much trouble talking about it; and yet, this past weekend a group of students did exactly that in the three nights of Relations, CC’s all new, completely original bisexual version of the Vagina Monologues. 

Version isn’t exactly the right word, but the Vagina Monologues are definitely the spiritual and intellectual mother of Relations. The show’s genesis lies in a conversation about the Monologues by last years cast during which, according to sophomore Co-Director Cara Greene, “The cast decided [the Vagina Monologues] wasn’t the right show for our campus anymore.” They decided to expand the show to include both genders, because a message about sexuality needs to be inclusive, not exclusive.”

Students submitted pieces on the subject of sex and also responded to a sexual survey. Some 12% of the student body took part in the survey. Twelve percent seems a small number to claim as a representative sample, but according to junior Co-director Sarah Rice, “that gives us roughly a 94% confidence interval that our statistics accurately represent the CC student body,” meaning that from a statistical standpoint, their claim is valid. Regardless, the creation of an entirely new work of drama, especially one that has something to say, was a worthy endeavor. 

It seems important to note, in any criticism of the show, that this was the first year it had been attempted. The number of submissions, the responses to the survey, the comfort level of the cast; all are sure to grow in subsequent years. As Greene said “we did the best we could with what we had.” This goes a long way toward explaining what was ironically the shows greatest failing; how entertaining it was.

This may seem an odd critique to level against a performance of this kind, but given the content, the show seemed determined to stay in the comedic realm that tends to define discourse about sexuality. Instead of delving into the darker side of sexuality on CC’s campus, the submissions dealt with subjects such as,DIY dildos for long distance relationships, and sexiling. To be fair, there were some profound moments buried in the group pieces, most notably during the discussion of sexile, when a girl’s banishment from her room turned into rape at the hands of the boy who had walked her home. The line hit like a punch in the gut, instantly grounding the show in a darker reality the submissions had seemed so desperate to gloss over with tales of Technicolor kisses.

There was a strength in the nature of the script as well though, one summed up nicely in the title; having everything written by students made the whole thing incredibly, well, relatable. I sat throughout the show wondering who had written these pieces, whether I knew them, whether these were friends of mine more comfortable expressing their experiences anonymously than to those who cared for them. That lingering hope that someone would be speaking to you directly was perfectly embodied in a brief early monologue performed by sophomore Amrit Khalsa, in which she addressed the audience directly, “This is the thing. Sometimes I want you so badly I can’t speak. So I’ve written these words for some actress to speak on some stage instead; she’ll say them better than I ever could. Do you recognize my voice? Do you recognize yourself? You know that weird feeling in the pit of your stomach, that intuition. Do you trust it? How about when I say: when something seems too good to be true…it is.” This anonymous writer brought the whole show home perfectly, bringing the audience to the edge of their seats waiting for confirmation, searching for any secret subtle sign that they were being spoken to behind the veil of anonymity, and then instantly crushing those hopes. It was one of the most effective moments in the show.

Subjective emotional resonance aside, unequivocally the best single monologue in the show was towards the end, dealing with the subject of abortion. A poetically written and beautifully performed piece about the aftereffects of the monumental decision to end a pregnancy, it balanced the comedy of the show overall with the more serious side of sexuality perfectly, providing a wonderful hint towards what this show will hopefully grow into in the future.

Unfortunately, these isolated high points were just that. However, despite these failings, the directors deserve respect for making the most of what they had, and sticking by their guns when the submissions didn’t hit all the notes they were hoping they would. The most glaring deficiency in the show, an almost total lack of pieces specifically focused on GBLTQ perspectives, was addressed by junior Co-Director Sarah Rice “it was definitely a bit frustrating to realize how heteronormative the show was and not be able to do all that much to alter that.” But, as she pointed out, with the greater exposure the project has received from its debut, people will hopefully be more inclined to address those issues in the future.

In the end though, the limited perspective may have been more of a strength than a weakness because, ultimately, Relations in a way perfectly represented the sexuality of Colorado College. While there wasn’t accurate portrayal of the incredibly dark undercurrent that exists in our schools sexuality, the side that lead 36% of surveyed students to remark that CC has an unhealthy sexual environment, there isn’t in our day-to-day discourse either. It’s completely okay on our campus to joke with your bros about the freshman biddie you fucked after the party on Saturday night in the most demeaning and dehumanizing terms, but much harder to have an honest discussion about how empty the hook up culture is, and how alienating it can be. Gossip about who’s sleeping with who, who so-and-so banged when they were blackout is all well and good, but a serious examination of whether or not a girl actually consented will rarely be undertaken. Girls getting drunk and making out with each other is a far more common topic of discussion than the difficult reality of trying to have a committed homosexual relationship at this school. In that respect, then, Relations did a wonderful job of talking about sex on our campus. Hopefully in future years though, the conversation will be a little deeper than the kind we’ve all had hung-over in Rastall on a Sunday afternoon.