Freelancette

It’s a sad day for journalists, critics, progressive thinkers, feminists and women in general. Ellen Willis, a bold and highly-original feminist writer who is generally acknowledged as being the first female rock critic, has died of lung cancer at the age of 64. Ellen was the director of the NYU Cultural Reporting and Criticism program I attended in 2003-2004. She acted as an advisor and mentor to many of us students, and taught one of my third-semester classes, Sex and Politics.

I’d heard about Ellen before NYU, and she was definitely one of my motivations for enrolling in CRC. But in person, Ellen could be underwhelming. I first met her while researching journalism schools. She seemed quiet and reserved, almost sleepy, not the epithet-wielding rabble-rouser who exhorted women to fight for personal and political change, who led the backlash against man-hating anti-sex feminists who knew only “loveless fucking,” who railed against the lazy intellectualism of the left as well as the easy-target right. I guess I expected some lean, hard, angry Patti Smith look-a-like, and was surprised to find Ellen so soft and soft-spoken.

In that first meeting, she seemed distant, and I couldn’t really tell if she was listening to me. There was no good reason to believe that she was: here was one of the certifiably coolest chicks of all time, a fierce intellectual whose passion and sexuality had captivated the likes of Robert Christgau (and had once compelled him to throw a pie in her face!), sitting face to face with a former cheerleader, a sorority girl, a musical ignoramus who at that point had never even heard of Robert Christgau. If I were Ellen, I don't think I would have paid me any mind.

But she did. She asked me questions that I didn't have immediate answers to. She pushed me beyond pleasantries. Our interaction was stilted and awkward, but after leaving her office, I wanted to read, write and start fights with my friends. And I wanted to take my conversation with Ellen further.

In class, Ellen took a “bait-and-see” approach, where she’d drop a controversial idea on the table and wait patiently to see who bit. And man, could she wait: all fifteen of us would sometimes sit silently for what felt like forever, staring at our hands and biting our lips, until inevitably someone piped up. But then for the next couple of hours, we’d be off and running, sharing opinions about political correctness, pornography, anti-porn activists, art, youth, family values, fetishes, priests, presidents and marriage (gay, straight, and otherwise). Often, when things got especially heated, I’d glance over to the head of the table to see Ellen smiling to herself. She clearly enjoyed a debate.

After we’d cooled off, Ellen would offer her own insights, which were usually so much more profound than anything else we’d heard or said that we’d need a moment to think. But we weren't through: she expected --she demanded-- a reaction, albeit in her quiet way. I came to realize that Ellen’s deceptively calm exterior belied a furiously churning mind. She wasn’t ever humoring us, or tuning us out –- she was actively listening to us, thinking about what we’d said, and considering her own response. She took our opinions seriously. Ellen was one of the most powerfully intelligent people I’ve ever met, but she was still able to make you feel, if not smart, then capable of becoming smart. She was inspiring. You wanted to rise to her challenge, to make talking to you worth her time.

I really value the time I spent talking to Ellen, in class and in her office. Friends and family members who are frustrated with my newfound penchant for arguing, my endless questions and my delight in confrontation have her to blame.

The world needs more critical thinkers, debaters and listeners like Ellen Willis. It's fitting that in addition to her writing, the educational program that she designed to cultivate critics will now serve as part of her legacy. However, it won't be the same without her.

Ellen, you rocked.