Rhonda Shear: My Feminist Cornerstone

The first b-movie I remember was Class of Nuke 'Em High on USA Up All Night, a late night cable show hosted by hosted by Gilbert Gottfried, Caroline Schlitt, and finally Rhonda Shear. It was Sat, Apr 2, 1994 (according to IMDB). I was eleven. That night I was banned from watching USA Up All Night by my mom. Though I still snuck out to watch.

USA Up All Night was my entry into not just b-movies but the weirdness that existed outside of my Midwestern home. And Rhonda Shear was my entry into beautiful, funny, pink candy, girly joy. And loved it.

I've thought about Rhonda a lot in the past few years and I've written about her at least once for another blog now long forgotten. Why? Well, I've been reflecting on my past to see how I got to where I am. Mostly, why I didn't end up down the incel, neckbeard, manosphere pipeline that has ravaged the souls of so many (there were close calls). Digging through the muck, Rhonda is the earliest influence I can pinpoint for my feminism.

There were no clouds parting when Rhonda appeared on the family tv late at night. No great declaration of feminism then and there. I wouldn't even hear the word for several more years. It was far more subtle. And though I shouldn't have been watching that at eleven, I'm glad I was.

Puberty hadn't pumped me full of hormones yet. I knew she was pretty, but she was also fun and funny and weird. I didn't understand everything she was doing or saying but I was having a good time. I remember being enthralled. She was bubble and sweet but also strong. She was the first building block in how I think about women who I wasn't related to.

The only references I had for her were Pee-wee Herman and Miss Piggy. She was free in the way they were too. There was joy and whimsy that I rarely expressed. I don't know how much of that was my reserved nature and how much of that was the influence of society.

As I got older, Rhonda Shear stood in the back of my mind like a ghost. When I first saw drag queens, that was just Rhonda turned up to eleven. When I saw Clueless, of course this girly girl in cute clothes was smart and cool. When I was walking with my now ex-fiance and her friends at a festival and they were laughing with utter abandonment, I was baffled when some guy laughed in a mocking tone. When I talked to other guys, I was even more baffled by their contempt for women dressing sexy and enjoying their life.

Isn't that what it's all about? Isn't that a gift to the world? Haven't you seen Rhonda Shear? These women feel good living their lives and doing it dressed like that. And that's awesome!

When my friend told me he was transitioning in college, I saw him become more of who he is. On the surface you could say he was rejecting what Rhonda Shear was about. That femme life. Really it was the same. She was being who she was. Presenting herself how she felt comfortable. That's what he was doing. I saw him just be more of himself. The traits that made him my friend just amplified. It was beautiful.

Truth be told, Rhonda wasn't on my mind during that time. But looking back she was the first step to learning about different people living different lives. Especially those outside the norm. She was more real than Pee-wee or Miss Piggy. Or at least seemed to be to my eleven year old brain. My small world of Midwestern values and conservative expression exploded because of her.

She's why I barely blink when anyone shows me their weird interest. The combinations of human life are endless. A bubbly, sexy blonde telling jokes, acting like a clown, and loving gross-out b-movies existed and from that I knew that we could all exist. We can all be beautiful and gross and weird and strange and misunderstood. But also be loved.