So last Monday I had my first day of a class called “Feminism and American Literature.” Being both a fan of literature and feminism, I was pretty excited that day. However, as I sat there, I felt a bit off. I felt flustered, guarded, on edge, vulnerable. I had no idea why I felt this way. It wasn’t until about halfway through the class that I realized I was the only male-identified person in the room. And for the first time, I became acutely aware of my maleness.
What meaning can we glean from all sorts of talks around campus?