I want to talk about a besieged minority community on the Mills campus. No, not the sexually confused underwater basket weavers (whose specific needs I promise to address in another column - sorry SCUBW's), but a minority community that suffers greatly at the hands of the powers that be.
Posts published by “Sandhya Dirks”
Anyone else feel like the sky was falling on them last week? And no I don't mean the economic crisiseses (how does one spell that word in the plural? Crisi?) I refer to the whirling helicopters and the mad-dog public safety folk - the campus lockdown soon to be seen as a major motion picture, Mills: Under Siege.
I recently had the pleasure of spending a lovely afternoon at the DMV. Which, in my opinion, was only excluded from Dante's circles of hell by not having been invented yet. But beyond the long lines and haggard looks from fellow visitors at the weigh-station to hell, what was most remarkable about my visit was the mistake the DMV lady found on my license.
Prepare yourself for a shock: I don't call myself a feminist.
I defended this position a couple of years ago when Gloria Steinem visited Mills and chided any women who didn't pronounce themselves as such. I felt that for Steinem to cry shame at any woman who refused the feminist moniker was political blackmail.
I remember the day I arrived here. I drove through Mills' pearly gates, white bookends that seemed to separate the lovely quiet green of the sleepy campus from the rest of reality. The wind rustled through the trees that lined the lane leading towards the main part of campus and I parked in a little lot covered by eucalyptus trees.