“What would you do if all men had a 9pm curfew?” She asks the world.
The world responds.
I would walk at night with music in my ears.
I would shop for groceries after my kids are in bed.
I would stay late in the lab.
Lay on the grass and see all the stars.
Lay across the warm hood of my car.
Sleep in my front yard all summer long.
I would not carry my keys like claws.
I would pitch a tent beside my favorite waterfall.
Run on the trail until my legs give out.
Sleep where I land.
I would ride the bus.
Take a road trip.
Leave the map.
Pull over when I’m tired and take a nap.
Go hear the bands play.
Dance the way I want.
Walk away from my drink.
Walk with no bra.
With no smile.
With the biggest smile of all.
I would walk in the city.
Walk in the forest.
Walk to my car in the parking lot.
I would walk at night with music in my ears
looking up at the sky
or never looking up at all.
Image: Karina Llergo, Dare
@DanielleMuscato on Twitter posed this question in October of last year: “Ladies, a question for you: ‘What would you do if all men had a 9pm curfew?’ Dudes: Read this thread and pay attention.”
As with so many thought exercises attempting to illuminate the experience of a group that lives under a constant threat of violence, the trolls came screaming onto the field. They charged Muscato with misandry, reverse sexism, and straight-up idiocy. They made sure to explain all the reasons it would never work.
Because of course we need to have the foolishness of our ideas pointed out in detail. Because we need reminding that men with any self-respect would never submit to such unfair limitations on their freedom.
(Exactly?)
Thank you for imagining such a reality.
The challenge: to start
not with theory but with tangible performance
You and others, approaching
We shall be asked for a way out
to be fed
to keep warm and dry
Starting with experience, magic
genuine science
More than once we have been lost
in a trackless wilderness
dwarfed and shadowed by mighty buildings
subway trains wild as elephants
One goes blindly back to one’s desk
These moments come, their dark
shadow
We glimpsed control
and more tragic waste
We entered with 40,000,000 warriors
with the dignity of cathedrals
The lake is upon you.
You have two canoes, your tent
The child has entered upon this desert
You have your axes
What, precisely, is your procedure?
Anna Moschovakis, “[The challenge: to start]”