Stumbled Upon Feminism at a Reading

Aaron and I went to our first reading in Seattle and it was so much fun. I convinced him to go even though neither of us had read the book, because the reading was held at The Richard Hugo House. The Hugo House is sort of like a writers' community in Seattle: they hold writing workshops for adults and adolescents, they host events (like the reading), they constantly bring in new writers-in-residence, and they have resources like the Zine Archive and Publishing Project. I'd heard of The Hugo House while job searching before we moved, and I was dying to see it in person.

But when I heard about my first opportunity to go to The Hugo House, I was also intrigued by the actual event. Nicole Hardy was reading from her memoir Confessions of a Latter-Day Virgin. Before going, all I knew about this book was that she was a Mormon girl, and then woman, planning to stay a virgin until marriage. So she made it through college as a virgin, and into her 20s, and out of her 20s, and into her 30s, and began to wonder if it was really the right life choice for her. As you can imagine, the little feminist in me (why did I make her little? I don't know but I'm rolling with it) was jumping up and down with excitement. Go to this reading, Genie! You'll love this book and it'll make for a great discussion after. So we went.

The reading was so much fun. I recommend going to a reading without knowing anything about the book. When we walked in, it seemed like an average reading at first. There was a table set up for selling books right in the front. There was a bar and people were lining up to get the alcohol in their systems (we'd enjoyed happy hour margaritas, so I skipped the bar). There were two or three employees walking around with appetizer options, and there was also a table of cheeses and crackers set up.

But then we noticed, over in the corner, there was a woman getting her hair done. In a beehive. That's weird. As we looked around, it became clear there must be something in the book about beehives, because they were everywhere. Women were lined up to get their hair styled, and when she appeared, Nicole Hardy had clearly gotten the first beehive of the night. There was even a man who came wearing a long wig for the sole purpose of getting his hair done, so this must have been advertised. We had no idea why this was happening but we enjoyed watching.

After watching the creation of a lot of beehives, we moved into the auditorium area for the reading. I immediately liked Nicole. She stood up and expressed appreciation for Seattle, The Hugo House, and supportive readers. She started to tear up and then laughed at herself, "Oh no I'm emotional already?!" She read two short excerpts from the book, one telling about church classes as a young Mormon girl (the beehives--there it is!--was the name of the group) and the other about being an adult, unmarried woman in social settings with women of her congregation.

The second story is the one that really struck me. She was at a party, excitedly telling a friend about a book of her poems that was getting published. A woman who knew both Nicole and her mother saw the look on her face, the price and excitement, and rushed over to look at Nicole's left hand. That's right, because she saw the excitement and realized Nicole must have gotten engaged. Nicole quickly told her, "No, it's my poetry, it's getting published." She went on to say how much this hurt, that everything she had done, a bachelor's degree, post-graduate degrees, working on creative writing, and now getting published, all this was seen as biding her time until her life, her married life, started.

I did not grow up as a Mormon. The one time a church leader talked to me and a group of peers about staying a virgin until marriage, I was at my friend's Baptist youth group, and I was horrified. To be clear, I wasn't horrified by the idea, I was horrified by the powerpoint presentation full of phrases like "sinful desire" and "young woman's purity" and "going to hell if...". (I was also horrified that not everyone's youth group involved games like dodgeball or scavenger hunts.)

But I still relate to Nicole Hardy's story. I relate to the confusion of being told that you're supposed to be this pure being, responsible for how boys react to you, without being told that you are going to have desire or feelings of your own. I relate to fielding too many questions about marriage and too few about career.

It was during the Q&A session that I realized I didn't just want to read her book, I wanted to be her best friend. The guy asking her questions jumped back-and-forth between asking "serious writerly questions" and questions from a Seventeen magazine quiz. After asking a question, something about a guy you think of as a friend trying to kiss you and you turning your cheek to avoid him, and giving her the three options for how to handle this situation, she laughed and said, "Those answers are terrible! I'd say, 'That was awkward, let's go get a milkshake.'" (Just look at this picture and try to tell me you don't want to be her best friend. I won't believe you.)

I know a lot of people say that there are too many memoirs out there these days, and maybe that's true. But I will jump on any opportunity to read a well-written memoir by a strong woman pushing back against social and religious conventions to find a way in this world that works for her and her goals. I can't wait to read Confessions of a Latter-Day Virgin.

Found this picture of the reading on Twitter
 and you can see me and Aaron!
Check out the closeup for proof!