Throughout this past week, I interviewed students on Kent State University's campus about vaginas—about their vaginas, about other peoples' vaginas, and about vaginas in general. Why did I do such a shocking thing? Well, on Friday and Saturday of this week, I will be performing in "The Vagina Monologues" by Eve Ensler, and the show got me thinking.

There is such an awful stigma against vaginas, people with vaginas, and even the word vagina.

I was not even comfortable saying vagina out loud until a Human Sexuality class in college, and I am an intensely liberal person. The word vagina just sounds gross. It does! Ensler says it sounds like a medical instrument, but I tend to think it sounds like some weird disease. Like, "I went to the jungle, only to realize I've contracted vaginas!" That does not sound pleasant.

Beyond the weirdness of the word itself, though, there is a strange lack of talking about vaginas in the media. Pretty much every television show or movie has at least one joke about penises, but as soon as someone even thinks about a vagina joke, the idea is immediately shot down. People do not want to talk about vaginas. It is intensely uncomfortable for everyone involved—people with vaginas and people without vaginas. But this is so silly! There is nothing wrong with talking about periods, birthing children, safe sex, orgasms, or any other topic involving vaginas. Nothing!

So despite my initial reticence, I decided it was time to grow a uterus, woman up, and go out and speak to people about their vaginas.

I interviewed women, trans* individuals, men, lesbians, bisexuals, heterosexuals, people of color, all of whom had one thing in common: they were Kent State University students. And you want to know what? They were all wonderful, and completely willing to talk to me about vaginas. I was expecting far more hesitance from the populous in general, but especially, quite frankly, straight men. Straight men proved me completely wrong and they shocked me with their honesty. Color me impressed.

I asked questions from the play — those asked by Eve Ensler in interviews which inspired the monologues in the show—as well as some of my own. The answers I received were hysterical, beautiful, inspiring, thought-provoking, and sometimes uncomfortable. The frankness and enthusiasm I received throughout my inquiry was startling, but absolutely appreciated.

The first question I asked, from the play, was: "If your vagina could wear anything, what would it wear?"

The answers I received almost always made me chuckle: "a rainbow sparkly tutu with a leather jacket and combat boots, because I'm a total mess," "a two-piece neon dress and chunky heels," "makeup — I never leave my house without makeup, and neither would my vagina," "a '90s inspired bathing suit," "a suit and tie," "an ugly Christmas sweater that has been worn so many times it sags to your knees," "a cross-body purse, because my vagina is super practical," "hardcore stripper boots; knee-high, pleather, rhinestones, glitter, all the good stuff."

But there were also some that made me think: "as a trans* man who has a vagina, this is a difficult question for me. I used to get dysphoric thinking about my vagina, but now I have come to accept it. My vagina would probably wear a long white t-shirt with a cartoon chiseled chest and swim trunks — the opposite of the woman's bikini shirt — and my vagina would rock it."

"My mental vagina wears huge plaid shirts, leggings and beanies, because I don't need to be feminine for my gender identity to be valid."

"It would wear a head scarf, just like me."

The second question, also from the play, was: "if your vagina could say anything, what would it say?"

Answers ranged from "just a whole bunch of expletives: b****, c***, f***, and so on," to "it would rap some Nicki [Minaj]." Other hilarious answers include:

"But did you die?"

"Do I need to draw an arrow to my clit?"

"Feed me."

"Ew, not you."

And a personal favorite, "wait your turn!"

Some answers were more somber: "I'm sorry."

"I wish I didn't exist."

"I wish I did exist."

"My vagina would not say anything — it would not be allowed."

These answers are what truly made me realize that the experiences people with vaginas have is varied, complex, and so different. My experience with my vagina is nothing like any of the experiences the people I interviewed had with their vaginas. Vaginas — and the people with vaginas — are as different and special as anything else.

My next question was: "Do you like vaginas?"

I received a few answers from straight women who had to back-track and rephrase their answer for fear of sounding like a lesbian, which I thought was interesting. They would say, "Of course! I love vaginas! Well, I love my vagina." I would always chuckle and respond with, "Just because you aren't attracted to other peoples' vaginas doesn't mean you can't love all vaginas." Words to live by, I think.

I received varying answers from straight men, from "Hell yeah, vaginas are great," to "No, not really they're pretty gross," and even received a "No, they're gross" from a woman. She said her own vagina was her best friend, though. People, more often that not, said that even if they did not like interacting with vaginas, they still appreciated what vaginas do and have done. "Without vaginas, people wouldn't exist!" one person thoughtfully pointed out.

And finally, I asked people: "Is there anything you want all people to know about vaginas, or your vagina, specifically?"

People told me that they "want the government to stop trying to regulate my vagina," that classifying "a tampon and pad tax as luxury items is cruel and unusual punishment," that "it's really not that difficult to find my clit," and "people may think that vaginas are gross, but I would urge those same people to take a look at a dick and tell me that vaginas are grosser... they won't."

I also received less political and less emotional answers, though they were just as honest:

"I don't know, that my vagina sweats a lot. Why does it do that?"

"I am a straight man and I love vaginas, and all my fellow straight dudes should also love them."

"Vaginas are rad."

"#vaginapower."

The interviews were undoubtedly enlightening, and I could not have enjoyed myself more.

The people I met were wonderful, enthusiastic, and completely honest with me about some tough topics. I have not included all of the questions I asked in the interviews, as some of the answers were too personal or too inappropriate to include in this platform. But I will say one thing: Kent State loves vaginas.

Kent State University's Women's Center and SRVSS Office is hosting a performance of "The Vagina Monologues" by Eve Ensler on Friday, April 15 and Saturday, April 16 at 7 p.m. on the second floor of Oscar Ritchie. Tickets are $5 and are available at the door, or ahead of time at the Carriage House (125 Midway Drive, 330-672-9230).