fandomhigh | Women and Gender Studies, 5/16/07

Madeline twitched her lips and adjusted her glasses as she looked over the gathered students, counting them silently in her head. "All right, all right, is everyone here? Are we all met, as some guy once said? Good, good, welcome to Women and Gender Studies! Now, let's get started. . . ."

"We should introduce ourselves, Mad," Sylvia cut in, putting a gentle hand on her friend's arm. "I don't mean to interrupt,"

"No, no, you're right, I forgot!"

"It's okay."

"It's not okay, you're right, I'm wrong, I'm SORRY,"

"Don't worry about it, darling."

"I," said Madeline, pressing a hand to her ample chest, "am Madeline Samuels, and this is my best friend in the entire universe, forty three and a half wonderful years--"

"I'm Sylvia Dunleavy," Sylvia cut in again. "Nice to meetcha. Call me Syvvie. Everyone does."

"Everyone does," Madeline agreed. "And we are going to be your Women and Gender Studies teachers for this summer session. Now, I know, I know what you're thinking: 'what the hell do two old ladies like them know about Women and Gender Studies?'"

"A helluva a lot, that's what,"

"That's right, that's right. We've got the prerequisites right here!" Madeline gestured loosely at herself and Sylvia and continued on. "And we've taken lots of courses in the subject at the junior college, isn't that right, Syvvie?"

"That's right, Maddie."

"That's right. You should listen to us. You might learn something."

"That's why you're here, after all."

"That's right! So, boys and girls--"

"Ah, ah," Sylvia interrupted again. "MEN and WOMEN."

"Right, right! I forgot, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be sorry."

"No, no, you're right, I'm wrong,"

"You're not wrong, darling."

"I'm sorry, MEN and WOMEN. Let's get a couple ground rules in before we get started, okay?"

"Okay!"

"Okay! The first rule is . . ." Madeline paused for effect. "Respect each other. Respect. That means no making fun of anything anyone says in this classroom. If you do, Sylvia with get you with her cane."

"I don't need it, but I have it, and I'll use it!" Sylvia shook her fist in a mock threatening gesture.

"We're kidding, we're kidding, of course we're kidding. Lighten up! That's rule number two. If you take things too seriously, you'll only give yourself ulcers. My second husband didn't lighten up, and what happened to him? He died. That's right, right in the middle of dinner one night, just keeled right over. Stress, the doctor said. So laugh a little."

"Smile, sometimes!"

"Smile, and the whole world sleeps with you. Now, rule number three, and this is important, so listen closely. You can do anything you want to do . . ." Sylvia joined in, and they said the next part in chorus: "As long as you're willing to get up and do it!"

"That's right," Madeline continued. "And that's not just for this class, either. Live your life that way, and you'll be a happy person."

"As long as you're not hurting anybody."

"Right, right, as long as you're not hurting anyone, anything goes. Those are the rules. So, you know us, now, darlings, we want to get to know you. Introduce yourselves! Tell us your name, where you're from, and what gender you identify with the most. That part's important."

"That's right, you think you can tell--"

"But the next thing you know, you realize you're talkin' to a transvestitute." Madeline adjusted her glasses again. "And then, my darlings, the glares, oh, I shudder to think." She shuddered.

"When you're done with that, we'll have an exercise."

"That's right, that's right, an exercise. We want you to work together in partners,"

"Not sexual partners now," Sylvia snorted and laughed. Madeline joined in.

"We're just a class, after all, and not that class, it's being taught by someone else. Anyway, where was I?"

"Partners."

"Right, right, get into partners and I want you to make a list of gender stereotypes. You know what I'm talking about. Where ever it is you are from, I want you to think back, and list as many different stereotypes about boys and girls as you can. And then, when you've got yourself a list? I want you to ask yourself, say 'Self? Do I fit these stereotypes?' And then tell yourself why."

"Or tell your partner."

"Or ask your partner. Whatever floats your gazebo."

[OOC: OCD is up, have-at ye! I promise, they'll be moderately less babbly in classes to come.]

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Annette approached her teachers somewhat nervously. She was totally going to try and annoy the crap out of them. Homework of course, for her other class and she so wanted an A+.

"Hi. Again."

"Helloooooo, darling! How are you enjoying the class, so far?" Madeline asked good naturedly.

Sylvia seemed to have wandered off, somewhere. Probably to get her notebook.

"That dress makes you look kind of chubby," Annette said instead of answering her question.

"I'm not wearin' a dress," Sylvia answered.

"No, darling, she means mine." Madeline leaned forward. "And that's because I am kind of chubby, dear. Happens, sometimes, when you get older."

This might be hard.

"It's out of fashion. It...hurts my eyes."

"It's black and red, darling. Those never go out of style." Hey, when you've been around for sixty some odd years and are from New York, you get pretty tough skinned.

Sylvia was eyeing Annette consideringly.

"I think you might not be exactly qualified to teach this class. I'm a girl and I think I know everything there is to know about being a girl and I don't think two old women can tell me what I don't already know and you're kind of scary in a funny way and even though I like you because really I think this might be a fun class, I'm just a little wary about trusting your judgement because you keep calling me darling and that makes me wonder just what you really think about me and I have to wonder also...well I just have to wonder cause I wonder like that all the time and red and black are winter colors and make you look pasty. I'm trying to be open-minded here but maybe I'm just stuck." Pause. "And John Crichton gave me homework from his class How to Annoy your Teachers, and told me to do just that so I hope it worked and I never meant a word of what I said to you in any unkind manner. Yep. I mean Nope."

There was a long pause.

Then Sylvia leaned over to Madeline. "Well, what do you know. I never thought we'd ever meet anyone who can talk as much as you."

Madeline burst into giggles. When she recovered herself, she waved a hand. "Honey, honey, it's alright! You take yourself to seriously. Everyone's entitled to their opinions, and if I can't handle yours then that would be my problem. It's like I always say, do not walk in front of me or beside me, walk behind me as my equal."

"But...but...didn't I annoy you? John Crichton is to blame. You should tell him I annoyed you. I am annoying right now. I'm bugging you aren't I? What if I take your glasses and take off running? Will that annoy you? What if I start singing and dancing and won't shut up? What if I asked to be excused to use the bathroom ten million times? I don't have to go, in case you're wondering. But I'm practicing my level of annoyance on other people I mean teachers. It's homework! Homework! Do you have a dollar?"

Madeline shrugged. "Well, if it's for homework, I guess you could insult us some more if you really like, but Syvvie and I don't annoy easily, honey. We're very open minded."

"That's right, we are."

"But I don't like to insult people. I just have to do it for a good grade. I really like you. You are funny. What if I just keep standing here and keep talking? And talking?"

"Honey, I've been friends with Mad for fourty three and a half years. Talking ain't gonna annoy me." Sylvia pointed out.

Madeline just giggled.

Hmm.

"Does anything annoy you? Ever?"

"Well, not for very long, certainly,"

Ooh, Annette perked up.

"What annoys you for just a tiny bit of time?"

Madeline shrugged. "Stupidity."

Annette smiled wide, "Then I've served my purpose!"

"Sure, honey, why not." Madeline smiled indulgently.

"We could go find this teacher and I could chase you around with my cane," Sylvia offered.

"Oh! That would work! Or better yet, go find that teacher and chase him around with your cane. I might get extra credit for that."

"Tell me what he looks like, and I'd be glad to." Sylvia chuckled. "I haven't chased a man in years, might be fun."

"Well, he's tallish with short brown hair. He's nice looking. Today he is wearing pink flip flops though he might have changed by the time you see him. Um. His name is John Crichton. I bet if you see someone who fits that description and just call out to him, you'll find him fast enough." She nodded.

"Good to know, honey, good to know. And we'll just keep your inability to annoy us between us, right?"

"That would be very much appreciated, thanks so very much. You are really great."

"We try, honey, we try."

Women and Gender Studies, 5/16/07

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