There's a new show on CBC that I've been watching called Little Mosque on the Prairie. It's hilarious and bizarre and I seriously wish the US Congress would watch it. But I'll settle for some US network to pick it up. Too bad it won't happen.
Not because of the politics or the supposed war on terror mind you. No, it's because of the episode that just aired on Wednesday. In it, a young hip Muslim girl who is trying to be just an average pre-teen (when her slightly conservative Dad isn't looking) is changing her jeans. She's trying to decide what to wear. And lo and behold...as her pants drop to the ground, what does she see, RED, and so does the audience.
Her first period, and they showed it on prime time TV! It was short and discreet, enough of a glimpse to see what it was, and the young actress had a long shirt on, so nothing above her thigh showed. But still, for the first time in the history of network televsion, a universal experience of all women was displayed...the "Ohmygodwhatisthat,howamIgoingtogetthisstainout,whatdoItellmymom&dad,whatdoIdonext" moment that every woman has had.
I was completely blown away, because after all it is the quintessential female event that no one ever talks about. We water it down, we pinkify it, we sanitize it for public consumption. After all, 49% of the Earth's population is horrified by menstrual blood and do not want to witness the reality of how the human race is perpetuated. And it's American network television's job to protect them from such scandal.
So I've had my Studio 60 moment...I've had plenty of Desperate Housewives moments...and now I'm having a Little Mosque on the Prairie moment. My period has arrived, there is red on my jeans, and there was only one pink line on the damn stick this afternoon. I'm sad right now because I'm figuring out that this means I'll have to leave out part of my life story if I ever become famous.
No red is allowed on TV you see, only pink.