bobby-o

Ladyfest is this weekend. I’ve been involved in the planning. To say that it differs from my expectations when I first got involved would be an understatement. But I’m helping, I’m meeting some new people, making friends with some girls that make me feel really, really old sometimes and still young, others. I’m trying to let go of my view of what an ideal Ladyfest might be and just be grateful that we’ve created a space wherein some women and girls can feel that their contributions are valuable.
So far, the biggest payoff has been sitting in a park, on the first sunny evening in what seems like years, singing along with Kimya Dawson and feeling a sense of community, not just with the women around me who were a hodgepodge of new friends, former roommates, old friends and strangers, but with everyone, kind of. There were people — notably, dudes — pedaling the bike that powered the show. There was an amazing lady floating seamlessly between potty jokes and riveting, crushing honesty.

There was a leveled audience sitting cross-legged in front of her. And, of course, there was my baby, charming the pants off of everyone.

I’m lucky to have a feminist family. Happy Summer, you guys.