“Feminine Rage” is an interactive piece that demands not only to be seen, but to be confronted. Viewers are invited to peer into the open, screaming maw of a woman frozen in a moment of fury. But this is not theatrical anger. This is the rage born of being dismissed, diminished, and denied.
Inside her throat, you will find words—things men say to women that ignite a quiet, daily fury. These phrases will change regularly, reflecting the persistent drip of patronization, erasure, and entitlement that so many women endure. You are invited—no, challenged—to return, to read, to listen.
This work is not subtle. It is a mirror, a megaphone, a mouthful of truth. My hope is that brave souls, especially men, will reengage often, sit with the discomfort, and begin to unlearn the habits and phrases that keep women small. This is not just a scream. It is a call to awareness, to empathy, and to change.
Feminine Rage is a mixed media piece that engages the senses. It is constructed from raw OSB plywood, a material chosen for its coarse, unfinished texture and structural honesty.
Quay Street & Huron Ave. in Downtown Port Huron, MichiganDear men: Telling women to smile isn’t a compliment—it’s control wrapped in a bow. We weren’t put here to be pretty for you.Telling a woman this isn’t flattering—it’s a putdown dressed as praise. It tells us you didn’t expect us to be capable, and that our gender is a limitation we somehow overcame. Just say we’re good. Period.Saying this isn’t a compliment—it’s a quiet dig at women as a whole. It frames individuality as separation, not strength. But the women I know? They’re powerful, radiant, and real. I aspire to be like them.This tells women their emotions are too much—and always have been. This phrase is rooted in a painful history. Women were once labeled hysterical, institutionalized, even lobotomized. (Rosemary Kennedy was lobotomized at 23—in 1941.)He said I’d be prettier with long hair. I’ve heard that before—from someone who tried to control me. I don’t style myself for men. I cut my hair for me. So let me and all women look how they want. Love us as we are—or leave us alone.If you’re trying to share knowledge, make sure it’s invited and delivered with respect. This—“Sweetheart, that’s not how it works”—is exactly how the term mansplaining was born.
Don’t.As if being in a relationship is the default and beauty is a ticket to partnership. Women stay single for all kinds of reasons: peace, freedom, healing, standards, or simply because they want to. None of which require public commentary—or permission.Sounds harmless—but it’s not. It’s gaslighting in four words. What we call women’s intuition is learned survival. We notice shifts. We feel danger. We speak up. And too often, we’re told we’re overreacting— until we’re proven right. Trust her gut. It’s not magic. It’s intelligence. And it deserves to be heard.Sounds sweet—but it’s not. It’s dismissal dressed as care. A compliment that shrinks. It says beauty means fragility. That women don’t belong in hard conversations. Let us think. Let us speak. Let us lead. Our heads aren’t just pretty. They’re powerful.I heard that growing up—from women I loved. It sounded like protection. But it was shame. A lesson passed down: Your body is a bargaining chip. Your worth depends on withholding it. That’s not wisdom. That’s patriarchy, dressed as concern. So when women shame other women, ask—Who gave them the script?This idea that the clothes women choose to wear directly correlate with how much male attention we “deserve” is rooted in misogyny and completely disgusting. It commodifies women’s bodies as if they are offerings, objects meant to please, invite, or provoke. They’re not.We’ve all heard it. Maybe even laughed at it. But look closer. This isn’t just a joke—it’s a script. A script designed to shame emotion, mock femininity, and silence reaction. Say it to a woman, and it reduces her feelings to something laughable. Say it to a man, and it uses femininity as an insult. Either way, it teaches the same lesson: Don’t feel too much. Don’t speak too loudly. Don’t make anyone uncomfortable.That’s the PG-13 version of what a man said to a lesbian friend of mine. His message? Her identity wasn’t real—just waiting to be “fixed.” As a straight woman, I haven’t lived that. But hearing it said to someone I love made my stomach turn. You are not a wizard, sir. And that is not a wand in your pants. Someone’s identity is not a debate. Not a challenge. Not a conquest. Can you imagine if the reverse were said to you?
Exactly.It sounds kind. But it can cut deep. Some women can’t have children. Some don’t want them. And none of it is your business. Women are whole—with or without children. So please—don’t ask. Don’t assume.
