There’s no one in the world like Kathleen Hanna. The singer-songwriter, feminist, activist, and punk zine writer has done more for the equality of women than most people can ever dream of. After fronting Bikini Kill in the early ’90s, starting up Le Tigre in the late ’90s, and turning her old solo project, Julie Ruin, into a full band in 2010, she’s been busy being profiled for the documentary film The Punk Singer as well as battling Lyme disease. Even more notable than everything previously listed, she’s one of the nicest, most thoughtful, and well-spoken musicians willing to get her hands dirty with work long after the sun has set. Hanna isn’t just an icon; she’s an unrelenting force who won’t sleep until she’s in the grave.

The woman, the myth, the legend will be stopping by the Wilbur Theatre this Thursday, April 9 to speak to the audience about her past work at An Evening With Kathleen Hanna. If you haven’t picked up tickets, we’re giving away a pair for free (enter here). Until Thursday rolls around, catch up on your Hanna knowledge with our exclusive interview with her about the riot grrrl movement, how to create change, and why she’s more similar to Jack Black in School of Rock than she thought.

Allston Pudding: What can your fans expect from the “An Evening With…” tour? A lot of them have seen you onstage before performing your music, but something this intimate changes things up.

Kathleen Hanna: I, along with the fans, have no idea what to expect. I mean, I will work on a presentation, definitely, and I am working on a presentation, but this particular show in Boston marks my transition from doing lectures at colleges to doing talks at theaters. This is my first time doing a talk at a theater. I’m really trying to work on how to translate the stuff I do at colleges into a more theatrical presentation. Now, I’m not going to tap dance or do backflips or anything, but who knows what will happen between now and then. I’ll be talking about feminism, punk rock, the stuff I’ve been involved in like riot grrrl and kind of watching that fall apart, nostalgia for the ‘90s, what it means that riot grrrl’s having a resurgence, and my sincere hope that that resurgence includes a very thorough critique. I’ll be bringing up some of those critiques of what riot grrrl was able to accomplish and was not able to accomplish. That’s pretty much what I’ll be talking about. I’ll be working on some impressions, too, since I know this venue is a comedy club. [laughs]

AP: Oh, that would be great.

KH: I was like, “I gotta get some comedy in here! I need a comedy writer!” Yeah, hopefully it will be entertaining. I’m really going off of watching John Waters speak one time and I remember he just kind of talked and it was totally interesting. I wanted to hear about his life and how he got started and when did he think he made it, stupid stuff like that. And what his relationship with the mainstream is because he’s so far out there, but then he became part of the mainstream in this weird way. He was really funny, though. Yeah, I have to work on my jokes.

AP: I’m sure they’ll be great! That’s funny you bring up John Waters because I was going to ask about your interests in media growing up. It sounds like all of this, your involvement in feminism and evolving critiques, was kicked off by two big things in your life: reading Ms. Magazine and volunteering at the local rape relief domestic violence shelter.

KH: It was Ms. magazine, but it was more my mom sneaking it into the house. It wasn’t so much inspiring me, but it was the fact that my mom and I had this secret from my dad that we didn’t think we were stupid, that we didn’t think we needed feminism to be explained to us. Mind you, my mom wasn’t, like, she was reading all these historical romance novels the majority of the time. She read a feminist book and then my dad would sit down and explain it to her like she was an idiot. So, Ms. magazine, us pulling that out, seeing Gloria Steinem speak at a rally, and being at a feminist group in the rally with all the women was more inspiring to me than the actual magazine, but the magazine to me is all wrapped up in that part. It was this feeling of being in this crowd of women when I was nine years old. I’ll never forget it. I didn’t even know there was a name for the way I got treated at school by boys or that women stood up on podiums and put their fists in the air and said really smart stuff. My mind was officially blown. Then me and my mom, as was typical in our family, never talked about it. I just went about my life, but it was always this kernel of corn in the back of my head.

Then Safe Space, the rape relief domestic violence shelter in Olympia, was amazing. Their whole thing was about intersectional politics and the way that race and class and homophobia and all these different things fit in together but aren’t the same things at all. What’s the difference between being targeted and being marginalized? What’s the difference between being marginalized and being oppressed? Why is reverse racism not even a real thing? Here’s why. They gave me the biggest education of my life at that place. I was lucky enough to go to college for four years. At what was supposedly a hippie school with no tests and no grades, blah blah blah, I wasn’t learning that. I was taking photography classes. That stuff just wasn’t talked about. It was like, “Does this picture have the right about of grey in it?” [laughs] It wasn’t even an art school. It was a state-run school. I had to go downtown to the rape relief domestic violence shelter to learn about classism. That’s ridiculous, but it was totally my inspiration.

AP: Have you ever considered opening up a nonprofit center where female-identified people can go to access certain services? Like those who grow up without sex ed, business classes, LGBTQ services, or even self-defense often need a place to discover these resources without the burden of money looming over them.

KH: You know, I kind of decided a while ago that doing music is enough because I’m already running a couple small businesses. I’m a part of Bikini Kill Records, Le Tigre Records, and Digitally Ruined Records. In dealing with my health and everything, my ability to do that? I wouldn’t be good at it. You know what I mean? I’m more of the person who wants to play a benefit for that place. I want to find out about that place and tell other people about it. I am possibly thinking about doing an Internet show in the future that will highlight political organizations that I seek out to let people know about them, volunteer opportunities, and donation opportunities. I feel like what I’m best at is being a musician and a performer. I want to use that to help people who are good at starting nonprofits. I did actually start a nonprofit with my friends in college, but I wasn’t good at it. I’m trying to use my talents where they’re best served. I help pump people up, but I can’t do both.

AP: You are human after all.

KH: [laughs] That’s true.

AP: Have you seen the documentary She’s Beautiful When She’s Angry?

KH: Oh! I did!

AP: What did you think?

KH: I saw it a while ago and I can’t really remember… I feel bad that I’m blanking on what to say.

AP: Well, you mentioned you saw Gloria Steinem speak in DC and she obviously plays a big part in that as well. What was it like seeing that portrayed in a documentary for people who weren’t able to witness that live themselves?

KH: Wait, is She’s Beautiful When She’s Angry an overall feminist one?

AP: Yeah, it looks at everything from birth control to riots to governmental legislation through the decades and—

KH: Oh man, I feel so bad but I can’t remember it. I watch so many films and sometimes they blur together. They’re all these really good underground feminist films. Oh no. I’m sorry!

AP: No worries! If anything, that’s great to hear because that means there’s even more being made now.

KH: Exactly.

AP: Have you noticed other positive changes throughout the years in terms of media coverage and widespread awareness? What’s something you’re still waiting to see happen, too?

KH: I guess behind the scenes, for people who aren’t in bands—although many who will be reading this are probably in bands and already know this—the big thing is that I’m meeting more female journalists like you or female-identified journalists. I’m meeting people who are asking really good questions. In the ‘90s, it was like, “I heard you were a stripper. Oh, what about ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’? Kurt Cobain!” You know what I mean? “Are you a femin-nazi? Do you hate men? Are you a man-hater? You’re a man-hater, right?” It was constantly being called a man-hater. All that stuff? It’s all gone, except for on the internet sometimes, which is like, I don’t even care. If you really hate me, you should at least have the courtesy to take out a piece of paper and write it down and mail it to me. If you’re a worthy nemesis, I want to see your handwriting. I want to see your name and your address, and if you don’t have the guts to give me those, then you’re not a worthy nemesis.

There are more people who are not straight, white males going to shows. It honestly wasn’t like that when we first started. Me and my friends in high school were the only girls who went to hardcore shows. It was three of us, and the rest of the audience was male. We didn’t really think about it. We weren’t thinking we were alienated or whatever, but eventually, as there started to be violence in the scene we were in during high school, we started to be turned off by the violence. We started to go see reggae shows, which is actually a great group because a lot of great reggae performers came through where we lived in Portland.

I guess the main positive thing is that there are more female musicians who are talking about feminism or willing to call themselves feminists. People are actually having conversations about “Is this sexist?” and “Is this Robin Thicke song sexist?” The fact that it’s even a question, you know? When that whole controversy or whatever happened last year, I was like, “Oh my God, there are so many songs that are just as sexist as this that are playing on the radio right now.” [laughs] I wondered why they picked on that one since there are so many that are just as bad, but I was happy people were actually mad about it. In the ‘90s, it was just like, of course there will be the song where the good girl really wants it, regardless if it’s indie rock or underground punk or radio pop. But I’m seeing people be mad about it and that’s great. Women and female-identified musicians saying they’re feminists, too, and gay marriage. Gay marriage! That’s a huge change and a huge win-win for feminism. The more people, as you know, are able to be on whatever spectrum of femininity and masculinity they are on at that moment, that opens the door for women to not have to be the opposite of what the supposed traditional male is. To have gay marriage be legitimized as a thing is not just a win if you’re gay. That’s a win, I think, for everybody. Some people think it’s assimilationists, but I grew up with a best friend who was the only gay kid. He would fuck a football player and then the football player would beat him up the next day. I’m living in a world now where there are LGBTQ straight alliances at high schools. I feel pretty psyched on that.

AP: And even earlier, too. My friend’s middle school has one available to its students as an afterschool club.

KH: That’s so great! I didn’t even know what the word lesbian meant until I was called one… and then I had to look it up in the dictionary. [laughs]

AP: Really?

KH: Yeah. [laughs] I was pretty young.

AP: How old were you?

KH: The first time I was called a lesbian? I was probably seven or something. I also remember in high school being called a lesbo and being unsure if that was related to the lesbian thing that happened to me when I was seven or eight. I was like, “Wait, is that the same thing?” [laughs] I was also pretty clueless in general. I smoked a little too much pot in high school.

AP: So with Bikini Kill as your first effort to create this riot grrrl movement and then shifting it in Le Tigre to be more open in terms of inclusivity, you were constantly looking to open the playing field. With the latter, you guys thought of punk rock “not as a genre, but as an idea.”

KH: Yeah.

AP: That phrase is a little hard for some people to truly understand still.

KH: Really? That’s great. I’ll talk about it in Boston, then. I moved to Olympia, Washington from Portland, Oregon to go to college when I was 17 an there was a record label there called K Records. It was run by this woman Candice Pedersen and this guy Calvin Johnson and they put out cassettes and vinyl. They considered what they were doing to be punk rock. My vision of punk rock was, you know, these dudes who were spitting on the audience and moshing. That’s why I kind of left that scene. Then I see all these people around my same age or between 17 and 25 that were making music themselves in their own town. They weren’t just singing, but creating. I see them putting out this music where there are tons of women involved in the scene and involved in the bands. The style of music that K was known for was this more armature, I-don’t-really-know-how-to-play-my-instrument-but-it-sounds-really-great, quiet, female vocals, generally “feminine sounding” music – and I use that with quotes because I don’t really think there’s a universal feminine. I mean, what people would consider traditional feminine? It wasn’t grunge or hard rock. It was… whatever. I remember seeing that and being like, “That’s punk.” Johnny Rotten isn’t punk. Maybe that’s punk to somebody, but these people are participating and challenging the corporations that are telling us what punk is and what good music is. They were actually punker than that. They were making it all themselves and they weren’t about getting wasted and spitting on the fans. They were kind and generous. Everybody wasn’t always wasted. Why is punk rock about getting wasted? Isn’t it punk rock to be sober and change the world? I thought it was about challenging capitalism? How are you going to challenge capitalism if you’re wasted?

AP: Have you ever seen School of Rock?

KH: The movie with Jack Black?

AP: Yeah.

KH: Yes.

AP: There’s a scene at the beginning where he asks the students what they think rock music is about, and they all say those same things. One thinks it’s about getting wasted, another thinks it’s about having sex, another says it’s about scoring chicks, but then he tells them it’s about making something that can change the world.

KH: Oh! See? I stole my whole thing from Jack Black! [laughs]

AP: That quote stuck with me for a long time since I was young when that film came out. So many people believe that when they’re young, and sometimes when they grow up, too. It’s sad.

KH: Yeah, exactly. That’s what I mean. It’s the idea that we as people can control our own destinies. The government and the corporations, more even than the government, can’t dictate what artwork we’re supposed to like or what comedy we’re supposed to laugh at. There’s comedians who I consider extremely punk rock who I’ve seen do very political stand up in places where nobody wants to hear that. It’s uncomfortable and scary and you realize it’s the punkest performance you’ve ever witnessed.

AP: With The Punk Singer being on Netflix, that allows you to spread these ideas to an even wider audience and various generations. I remember watching it and being happy this was one of the first times you don’t see Ian MacKaye or one of those staple talking heads doing the stiff upper lip breakdown of what punk is all about.

KH: That was the first thing I said! It was one of the very first things I said when Cindy was going to film. As much as I love Ian MacKaye, because he’s actually one of the coolest, funniest fucking people I’ve ever met in my life and a close friend, and Thurston Moore and Calvin Johnson from K, I’ve seen them in so many movies about indie rock being represented as the expert on everything. I just didn’t want that. It would be the antithesis of what this was about. But you know what, I really didn’t have that much control over the movie. I have my own critiques of it beyond that. I should have asked for more. [laughs] But I’m very happy it’s out there. I get emails every day from people saying, “I never heard your music. I don’t know anything about you. I just happened to watch this on Netflix. I hope you’re feeling better. More power to you.” It just shows you, I don’t know, how generous and wonderful people can be. I actually just got stopped on the street last week by a random guy. He was like, “I just watched your documentary last night!” I was walking my dog, too. It was somebody who, not to stereotype, I never would have thought would watch this movie or talk to me. He was like, “Man, I actually kind of knew about your band back in the day, but I was freaked out by you guys and I didn’t know if I should go to your show or not go to your show. Then I watched the documentary and I learned all this stuff and I really wish I went to see you back when I had the chance.” It was so funny. There I was, standing still with my dog on the corner.

AP: That’s so funny. Was there anything else you wanted to focus on in the film or got to dictate?

KH: No, because that would have been controlling the narrative too much and I didn’t want to do that. I did have control over if I wanted something about my family or my friends to be taken out. I had one sentence added to make my mom sound better because my mom’s really awesome. We have a great relationship, but I felt like she was portrayed a little, like, she sounded a bit mean. [laughs] I understood her sense of humor from a very young age. I always knew she was being funny, but when I tell my therapist that my mom played the trust game with me and let me fall on the ground, my therapist does not find that funny. She’s like, “That’s the reason for everything! That’s why you have such a hard time with trust!” And I’m like, “I don’t really have a hard time with trust. I thought it was funny.” [laughs] So I added in a line that clarified that.

AP: Gotcha. Through that documentary, a lot of people, including that man on the street, have learned so many additional names to check out, from bands to filmmakers to social activists.

KH: Yeah!

AP: Your music has gotten passed along over the years for inspiration, too. What bands do you personally pass along to people, old or new, that stir something in you?

KH: Hm. That’s a hard one. I usually just tell them stuff I like, from Younger Lovers, everything Seth Bogart does who used to be in Gravy Train. It’s so crazy because kids that wrote to me when they were 14 years old are still in my life. A lot have gone on to become musicians and artists in their own right who inspire me now. Especially my friend Brontez Purnell who is a creative machine. He has a dance troupe, he’s a choreographer, he wrote a book, he’s an actor in all these underground films, and he’s an amazing guitarist. His band, Younger Lovers, is fantastic and their videos are so good. So he’s somebody who wrote me a fan letter when he was 14 and now I’m listening to his music and getting ideas for where I want to go. That’s really exciting. There’s things I learn about through the internet, too, like the Black Salt Collective that was making a film about going cross country making art and doing performances. Then there’s the People of Color Zine Project that I think is really great. It’s not always just music. Hari Kondabolu is a really, really great comedian that I love. Or is he a comic? I never know what to call funny people. [laughs] He’s probably performed at the Wilbur and I think he or his girlfriend lived there for a while. He’s totally inspiring. It’s hard to think of everyone because I tend to blank out.

AP: Well on a different note, you’ve also mentioned that now that you’re older you can trust in your artistry more. What platform do you think age gives someone?

KH: For me, I just feel very grateful. It’s not that I wasn’t grateful before, and this is less age-related, but I can’t separate what having health problems while getting older has done. We live in such a youth-orientated culture that to be able to be 46 years old and still a relevant performer is amazing. I feel really grateful. Age has made me more grateful. I’m still pissed off about injustice in the world, but I also have the foresight to look back and, like we were talking about before, be stoked that gay marriage exists now. LGBT straight alliances exist at, now you’re telling me, middle school. I’m lucky enough to have been in the age before the internet and now during the internet. I’m grateful to be a witness to that. It’s horse and buggy versus car. To see how quickly things change has given me a renewed sense of optimism. Does that make sense?

AP: Yes!

KH: I sound like I’m on acid.

AP: Don’t we all, though?

KH: True.

AP: Okay, one last one: What advice do you have for people who want to create change but the thought of going for it is overwhelming?

KH: Uh, well, you’re going to die. That’s always my motivation. I’ve always been like, “Look, you’re going to die and it’s not going to matter after you die that you got out onstage and bombed.” Part of being in a band, being a painter, or starting a nonprofit is that you’re going to make horrible mistakes and look like a total idiot, but you’re never going to create that thing that really connects with people if you don’t fail over and over and over again. Those times where you’re scared to get out onstage and be the one gay kid at your school who’s singing about gay rights at the talent show, let’s say, just think, “I’m going to die. Everyone’s going to die.” I know that’s really horrible, but that’s how I do it in my head. I’m going to die. It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter. I’m a grain of sand. As a grain of sand, I may as well go out and relate to people and enjoy my short time on this planet that I have. Who knows what’s coming next? I want to enjoy it. I don’t want to waste the precious moments I have, and I’ve felt that way since I was 17. I have to take risks because why else would you be alive? Put your pirate patch on and go on an adventure because you only have one life to live.

Kathleen Hanna will talk at the Wilbur Theatre on April 9. Enter to win two tickets to the event here.