In the film, there is a similar cultural repression that constructs a dystopic, postmodern landscape where emotional connection is flattened or distorted. Through its disjointed dialogue and alienating cinematography, the film critiques a society hollowed out by its detachment from feeling—what Lorde might describe as a world that has lost its connection to the erotic or really the joy of life and emotion.

This is a very powerful message that should be communicated with many people, especially the growing importance of healthy emotional communication is in modern society and society should recognize how emotions have been peverted and dismissed. This definetly applies to how I go about my day-to-day, since I feel like I can only open up in certain enviroments or with certain people and I feel like society should be more about healthy communication and emotional awareness.

"Then babies are dressed or adorned in a way that displays the category because parents don't want to be constantly asked whether their baby is a girl or a boy." (Lorber, p. 1) Just as Lorber notes that infants are immediately marked by gender through clothes to avoid confusion, institutional spaces also “mark” people’s expectations through design choices. The older black-and-white signage in the JRC reflects a more rigid, utilitarian approach—consistent with earlier assumptions of order, clarity, and normativity. In contrast, the newer signage in the HSSC, with its brighter color and more inclusive design sensibility, subtly communicates a shift: Grinnell’s campus—like broader society—is increasingly aware of gender as something fluid and constructed, rather than fixed and binary.

I pass these signs almost every day without thinking, but once I started noticing them, it was hard to stop. In the JRC, the signs split people into “man” or “woman” using visual symbols—pants for one, a skirt for the other. It’s subtle, but it tells you who you’re expected to be before you even walk in. It makes gender feel like a costume, a requirement for entry.

In contrast, the HSSC signs simply note accessibility. No stick figures. No binary. It's a small design decision, but it felt like breathing room. It acknowledges that gender isn’t a visual or anatomical assumption; it’s not something that can—or should—be decided by a symbol on a door.

The evolution of campus space reflects a deeper shift in how gender is understood—not just as an identity, but as an organizing force that influences how spaces are structured and how people navigate them. While both buildings serve similar functional purposes, their visual language hints at different eras of gender expression—where once heteronormativity was silently reinforced, it is now increasingly questioned, reimagined, and redesigned.

Feminism is the belief in and movement for gender equity—social, political, and economic—while actively challenging systems that oppress or marginalize women and other gender minorities. It demands both recognition and redistribution of power, including space, opportunity, and voice.

“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” — Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own Woolf’s quote speaks to how women have historically been denied the basic material conditions—like financial independence and personal space—that allow for artistic or intellectual production. In a society structured by patriarchy, women were (and still often are) expected to support others before themselves, to remain silent rather than speak, and to serve rather than create.

This concept ties into our course’s feminist framework by showing how structural barriers—not just personal ones—have suppressed women’s voices. Woolf isn’t just talking about fiction writing; she’s talking about agency. Her call for “money and a room” is really a call for self-determination.

In daily life, this shows up in who gets to speak in class, who feels entitled to take up space, who is interrupted, who is believed. Even now, I notice myself hesitating before I speak in male-dominated conversations—still questioning if what I have to say is worthy. Feminism, for me, is the process of unlearning that hesitation. It’s claiming space, time, and voice, even when those things still feel like luxuries.

By placing this book cover alongside the other two photos, I wanted to explore how different environments—film, architecture, literature—all reveal how gender functions in our lives. And how, whether through art or essays or just showing up unapologetically, we try to carve out rooms of our own.