Week Two, Michelle Hull

               Dear the two women who had names in Easy Rider,

               What did you think when you went to work everyday? Were you proud to be one of the few females in an all-male cast? Were you grateful to have a name? What did the three unnamed women – the only other women on set -- think of you; was there tension? Did you support each other? Hate each other? Were you embarrassed for them? Were you embarrassed for yourselves?

               I knew for the first time that I was a woman when men catcalled me on the streets of Philadelphia. I wore long leather pants that hugged my every curve; I was on the way to vote for our first female nominee of a major presidential party: Hillary Clinton.

               I was born in Kensington. You’ve heard of Kensington before: we have the highest rate of teen heroine usage in our great nation. I stayed off the streets, though – I fought to stay off my streets. Did you like doing drugs? Did you feel rebellious and cool and likeable?

               Staying sober saved my future. Do you understand that? I wouldn’t have gotten out of Kensington if I had lived my life the way your character’s lived theirs. I just graduated from college – did I tell you that? The Community College of Philadelphia. When I graduated, I cried messy, passionate tears: alive tears, grateful tears, tears people do and do not understand.

               I watched your movie during a history class my junior year. When did you realize you were a woman? Was it when you were given a name? When you watched your co-stars remain nameless? You confused womanhood for me, for good. I used to think being a woman meant SlutWalks and tight skirts and“Yes, I Masturbate!” Facebook posts. Now, I’m not so sure. Is that what you wanted? Is that why you decided to be a role model for women everywhere?

- Bess