Diva Pin

When I was in Katimavik, I had a hat that I placed pins on, each representing a person, place, or event. Two girls in my group had one particular pin that they both wanted to give me. It said "Diva" on it and was centred in the middle of a flower. While both were quick to offer, for some reason, they were both reluctant to follow through, and I had to fight a little for it. When one of them finally gave it to me, she requested to "See my hat", and then proceeded to attach the pin without telling me this intention. She also fastened it on in such a way that removing it would be very difficult.

I should have found it suspicious that, after requesting to have it, she would feel it necessary to trick me into wearing it, and also, to make sure I couldn't go back on this decision, but at the time, I chalked it up to their disbelief that I would so regularly display a badge with the feminine connotations of the word "Diva" coupled with a flower.

I was okay with this, though, because, for one, my hat was supposed to represent diversity, each one symbolizing an individual story, each carrying it's own unique perspective. My hat wasn't a representation of myself, but of my experiences. Secondly, I thought they had failed to understand the "Real Men Wear Pink" philosophy, which dictates that, if a man can wear something traditionally feminine, and this does not detract from his masculinity, this becomes a feat of masculinity, and thus makes the man more masculine. On a similar note, to display a quality that would usually invoke aggression in other masculine people, but to have forced them to accept this about you, is a display of dominance over them. Very masculine.

There was a bit more to this particular pin, though. For my final presentation in my second rotation, at debriefing camp, in front of three groups and the project coordinator, I presented my hat, and told the story behind each pin I'd collected in Thunder Bay.

When I got to the Diva Pin, I expressed my confusion at the difficulty I'd had collecting it, and the way it had been locked on when I finally did get it. It was at this point that I was interrupted, and somebody asked me if I understood the concept behind the pin.

Well, turns out it's for a menstruation device.

While, at the time, I was overwhelmed by shock and horror, much to the amusement of my audience, realizing onstage that I had been proudly displaying this for over a month, I would later bounce back. I never attempted to remove the pin, and I put effort into learning about the product that I was supposed to be a spokesman for.

Turns out, it was for the Diva Cup, a reusable device which is environmentally friendly, cost effective, and supposedly pretty comfortable (three in the group testified it was the most comfortable). But you shouldn't listen to the instructions presented by the company when applying. Just keep pushing until you hear a "pop".

I got a free lesson on other devices, too. At final rotation, three males and our female project leader were tasked with shopping for the group. She joked that we should be the ones to get the "lady products" and was much surprised that we specifically requested to be given the privilege to do just that. She was more amazed when that was followed by a heated discussion about the qualities of each product. She said that she had "never seen this before".

That's right. I wasn't alone. I was initially fazed, but after I had collected myself, I took the offensive, and before I was through, men were competing to deal with menstruation products in an effort to seem more manly. I put the "men" back in "menstruate". If that's not "Real Men Wear Pink" I don't know what is.