As one of the organizers of this yearís Body Monologues and participant of the last two, I canít help but be jarred by the Voiceís criticism of the event (ìBody Monologues funny, but fail to provoke much thought,” April 24).

In your article, you make sure to emphasize the ìsomewhat cheap penis jokes” that several (certainly not the majority, as you misleadingly infer in your review) of the participants used. I understand your hesitation toward accepting penis jokes as thought-provoking, but to me, their presence was an interesting twist on the evening.

This was the very first time that any men had participated in the Body Monologues ó an addition that definitely changed the tone of the event. The use of humor (and subsequently the occasional penis joke) was far more common, adding a general sense of levity that wasnít present in previous years. This is not to say that it was better this time, but I definitely liked the male presence. It added variety and provided an interesting foil for the womenís presentations. And frankly, I found the penis jokes to be appropriate.

Yes, they were irreverently dopey, and yes, they followed in the vein of a cultural obsession with phalluses, reinforcing the odd belief that they are inherently funny ó but the penis jokes also upheld the ideology behind the Body Monologues. The purpose of this event is to promote dialogue on oneís relationship with the body, destigmatize sexuality and discuss overcoming body-related adversity. Arenít penis jokes a way for men to express their relationship to their bodies?

How is that not as valid a discussion as any other, such as my attitude toward my ethnicity (the subject of my own monologue)? Humor is an important tool for the monologues, because it allows people to address issues that they might have trouble discussing seriously. If your favorite, Heather Price, can use it to lighten her monologue about overcoming the difficulties of diabetes, why should Andy Kissinger be criticized for using humor to recount a painful, humiliating encounter with a brown recluse spider? I felt that this yearís event was a success. I wish youíd spoken to audience members afterward to gauge a general reaction ó many came up and told me how interesting and enjoyable the evening had been. You insisted that there wasnít a broad range of participants, but the inclusion of men made it broader than ever before. Additionally, I wonder why you chose such a disdainful headline for your review when most of the monologues you described (like Andrew Sartoriusí discussion of body image) were insightful and creative.

I recommend you participate in the Body Monologues next year. Itís frightening to walk in front of a group of people and read something that youíve written, especially if itís personal. Perhaps then youíd understand why humor played an important part in making the evening successful. Instead of interpreting the sexual humor as a simple way to get cheap laughs, I ask you to consider them in the spirit of the event: as frank observations on sexuality, and a way for people to comfortably discuss difficulties theyíve have with their bodies.

This is Allana Cuellarís first viewpoint for the Voice. She can be reached for comment at ACuellar09@wooster.edu.