One of my favorite movies is Little Children, in which several families carry on illicit affairs, gossip, and otherwise make poor decisions in the wake of a child molester moving back into the neighborhood after being released from prison. I was reminded of this movie when a group of upset mothers landed on the nightly news because a child molester was moving into their cul-de-sac after a 12-year prison sentence. They were furious that “someone like that” would be moving into a suburban neighborhood, even if he was going to be living with his sister, listed in the state’s sex-offender registry, and was required to avoid contact with children, and wear an electronic monitoring bracelet. These mothers explained that living in their neighborhood was based off of “deserving it”, and one did not “deserve” to live in their neighborhood if they were “immoral”. They also complained that where this man should really be is at a halfway house, or some similar facility.

Here are my thoughts:

1. I really strongly dislike child molesters. This man’s crime, assaulting an 8-year-old is extremely heinous (and that’s putting it mildly).
2. HOWEVER, I do think that it is safer for this man to be living in a place where he will be supervised by his sister, and the electronic tether, rather than homeless and wandering from place to place. I do not have children, so perhaps I cannot fully understand how the women in this neighborhood, who have children feel about their new neighbor.
3. This man has paid for his crimes He served 12 years in prison (and knowing prison sexual assault rates, his stay was probably not all that pleasant), and will have the state monitor his whereabouts for the rest of his life. I know that many would say that he deserves to be imprisoned for the rest of his life, but unfortunately, my state does not have enough money to do that. In fact…
4. The state is dead broke. The reason why this man couldn’t be placed in a halfway house is because the state does not have room in their halfway houses, and does not have any money to build new ones. To do so, the state will need more revenue, aka taxes. And most people would sooner cut off their left foot than pay higher taxes, especially taxes that would benefit incarcerated criminals.

Several years ago, in a similar case, a local neighborhood succeeded in driving an ex-con out of the state. He moved around until he wound up in New Mexico. Because it’s better to make a child molester another cash-strapped state’s problem? Not to mention that one only needs to have a sufficient down payment, and qualify for a mortgage to purchase a house, not have any sort of claims on morality. I am sure that having a neighbor with such a terrible criminal history cannot be easy, but I am frustrated by how these families cannot see the forest for the trees. They may see their new neighbor as a sacrifice of their peace of mind, and housing value, but it would take a financial sacrifice to have him placed in a halfway house, and if he was homeless, the entire city’s safety would be sacrificed.

I’ve discovered a disturbing fact recently. I talk about the prostate. A lot. With my awkward nerdy friends. Hell, I don’t even have a prostate.

Fortunately, my friends are a pretty open minded, not-repressed bunch, and don’t seem to mind when I gab about my sexual proclivities and escapades. Heck, another friend got into an extended conversation about the many uses for bondage tape (evidently it’s great for making Halloween costumes). We also go to renaissance faires together (don’t judge), and for those inexperienced with ren faires, there is as much sexual innuendo as there are people dressed up in crazy costumes. I also have several close friends that are gay, and vocal about what turns them on and gets them off. I’m also with someone who is not afraid of exploring sex outside of the little box marked “Sex” that a lot of people stick to.

One of my Awkward Nerd Friends told me “I didn’t know that a guy could be into girls, and into, uh, that” (the “uh, that’ being exploring anal play, obviously). I sometimes wonder if I should walk around with a giant hulking megaphone, and jus constantly shout “LIKING ANAL STIMULATION DOES NOT MAKE YOU GAY”. “ANAL SHOULDN’T BE PAINFUL”. “ANAL ISN’T GROSS”. “GIVE YOUR PROSTATE THE ATTENTION IT DESERVES”. “HAVE YOU MADE YOUR PROSTATE HAPPY TODAY?”.

What about going around the country, and interviewing men about their prostates? What would they name them? What would their prostate wear? And so on and so forth*. Perhaps doing so would make it easier for men to talk about their prostates. Proceeds could go towards prostate cancer research.

Speaking of which, the next time I see another goddamned “Save the Ta-Ta’s” shirt for breast cancer awareness, I’m making (and then wearing) a “Save the Male G-Spot” t-shirt, because if we’re going to sexualize cancer, then we’d better be equal-opportunity about it.

One of the nice aspects of going to art school is that I’ve met people with sexual tastes as diverse as the majors offered. One particularly memorable moment was during one of my writing classes, when one of my guy friends was loudly praising the joys of anal sex and prostate stimulation, just as the professor answered the classroom (the professor didn’t even blink an eye).

I think that a lot of women get really squeamish about their male significant others wanting to explore anal play (“That’s gross!”, “Exit only1”, and “Does that mean he’s gay?” are all things that I’ve had the pleasure of hearing), which is kind of depressing. Because God forbid people discover that sex shouldn’t be a set list of rules and guidelines, with no room for variation or experimentation.

*Ensler is working on a new show called “V Men”, which focuses on men’s experiences and relationships with women

When I’m away at school, I don’t watch television. I don’t have the time, or a TV set of my own, and the last time I actively watched television was during the Winter Olympics. However, one of the perks of being home (at least until my family starts haranguing me to unpack/get a job/etc) is to watch trash TV. Specifically, stuff on BRAVO, MTV/Vh1/Oxygen, etc. Here are some casual observations from two days of trash TV watching:

1. Real Housewives of New York

Jill gives a bad name to gingers everywhere, I want to have a cuddle party with Sonja, I want to go shopping with Alex, and I want a bag of whatever Kelly is on. Also, as a veteran for the One-Night Stand, I can safely say that a one-night stand DOES NOT EQUAL “having unprotected sex with everyone in America”, and can be quite fun, as long as your roommate doesn’t constantly walk in on you [grumble].

2. Real Housewives of Bergen County, ahem New Jersey

My entire family is from New Jersey, and some of my relatives live approximately 20 miles away from Franklin Lakes (I actually recognize certain stretches of 287 that they film on). Although I can’t deny that producers might try to punch up the drama, I can attest that there are women like Dina, Theresa, Jaqueline, and Danielle do really exist in the Garden state. Even in my relatively drama and skeleton-in-closet free family, that pervasive attitude of “So-and-so did such-and-such 5 years ago, and I never want to talk to them again” is very common, and unfortunately, the only time that I can remember people putting family disagreements aside was during my grandmother’s illness and death. Also, the garishness of Theresa never fails to shock me. Also also, “chucky” is the worst euphemism for the vagina ever.

3. America’s Next Top Model marathons

I really need to start watching this show while under the influence. I think everything will finally make sense. Also, I’m always surprised by how this show seems to attract such sheltered contestants. Or maybe it’s just the producers wanting to pair the abstinent Christian and the bisexual stripper together to create Television Drama. Which this show does NOT need when you have Tyra walking in wearing a crazy spandex superhero costume. I want the next cycle to have a challenge where they all have to pose while wearing strap-ons.

4. Bad Girls Club.

A lesbian nightclub 3 hours away was promoting a night where the “special guest” was Flo. I wondered why the hell having a cast member of The Bad Girls Club is considered a good way to promote your establishment.

5. The Millionaire Matchmaker.

Highlights (for me, anyway) include Patti’s expression after someone she was screening identified herself as pansexual, Patti feeling obligated to have a bicurious client visit a psychic before meeting women, and Patti’s love of men with waxed chests. Patti, people’s orientations cannot always be fit into little boxes, and men with fuzzy chests are awesome, thankyouverymuch. I was a little disappointed to see Christian Farmer Dude pass over Pan Girl (because Jesus hates the pansexual*?), but whatever. I also wonder if Christian Farmer Dude and his date were virgins (was their use of “serious relationships” Christianese for “sexy time”? Mostly, I just want Patti to go away. And to stop talking about how her vibrators always die (Seriously–has she tried something rechargeable yet? What about the wonderful world of dildos?). While I do appreciate it when she takes her more snobbish clients down a peg, I could do that without being so narrow minded. Hey BRAVO, wanna give me a job?

6. 16 and Pregnant/Teen Mom

I have quite a few friends who had children in their teens/late twenties. Most seem to be handling it pretty well. They also have pretty strong networks of families and friends, and a steady source of income. I wonder if MTV deliberately went out of their way to find the most dysfunctional families, because saying that all teen moms live difficult, miserable lives is just as bad (and as inaccurate) as saying that all women without children are unhappy and unfulfilled. I also want to grab Farrah by the shoulders and shake her for treating having a child as having a glorified baby doll, and I really, really want to read Farrah’s mom the riot act for being such an insufferable asshat.

7. Kell on Earth.

I got to see Kelly Cutrone speak several months ago (Best quote: “Make your own money so you can sleep with whoever you want”), and she said that “Kell on Earth” and her appearances on “The Hills” helped keep her business afloat during the past several years. Also, she shops at Bableand! And she does wear all black and no makeup, in person. Also ridiculously awesome sparkly cowboy boots. Also, I know people trying to get summer internships at fashion companies, and those interns SUCK. Forreals.

Finally, WHAT THE HELL is Sarah Jessica Parker doing executive producing a reality TV show about art? If BRAVO wants to do a TV show about art, they should ditch the faux-reality-ty-competition stuff,
and just bring their cameras to my school. We have talented people, plenty of substances, lots of sexual intrigue, and Exacto knives.

If I was in charge of things (which, most unfortunately, I am not), I’d switch around the curriculum for colleges and universities. Many institutions of higher learning require students to take courses such as psychology, mathematics, economics, art history, etc, as liberal arts requirements. But there’s one thing that should be required for all students. A comprehensive survey of human sexuality. There are elective courses like this, but this shouldn’t be just an elective. Hell, I think most of my classmates at my previous college (a small women’s college in the Midwest) and my current one (A Big Name Art College somewhere on the East Coast) would benefit more from a course on sexuality, than the required economics class I had to take.

With the way that sex-ed is going on in the middle and high school levels, students enter college with information that is inaccurate because instructors were required to tell students the abstinence-only song and dance, including that most forms of birth control and STD prevention do not work, or inaccurate because they were educated by the gossip and urban legends of their classmates. And probably no information about the diversity of the gender and orientation spectrum. So what you have are thousands of students entering an environment where they are often living independently for the first time in their lives, but incredibly ignorant about sexuality.

Here’s what my fantasy curriculum would look like:

Learning about the parts of sexual anatomy and sexual organs, and teaching students the scientific names of such parts.

A contract between faculty and students, guaranteeing that the class will be a safe place, where students can voice their questions and concerns without fear of ridicule.

A brief history of sexuality, starting with the earliest writings on sex to the present day. Perhaps soe Sumerian love poetry, The Song of Solomon, The Karma sutra, excerpts for St. Hildegard Von Bingen’s visions (St. Hildegard was a nun, and responsible for the first written description of the female orgasm), etc. might be good readings, showing that sexuality is not a “new” idea. Perhaps also a discussion/lecture on the history of contraceptives, including history of abortions. Columbus’s diaries include descriptions of the herbs Arawak women would consume in order to have abortions. Basically, sourced readings showing that contraception and abortion wasn’t som alien concept that only happened during the 1970s.

Discussion on the diversity of gender and sexual orientation, including definitions of gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, transsexual, intersex, genderqueer, and questioning. Explaining the difference between sex and gender. Discussing the extent of which the heteronormative gender binary permeates Western culture.

Discussion of how “sex” is viewed/treated/discussed. What defines “sex”? Who gets to define what “sex” is? How does this affect people living outside of a determined sexual norm?

Discussion of rape culture. How is rape treated in the media? Pop culture? Language? Stressing that consent is not the absence of “no”, but the presence of an enthusiastic “yes”.

Discussion of current events, like legislation passing ENDA, repealing DADT, and legal restrictions on abortion.

Overall, a class that shows that sexuality is not some weird, alien thing, and that “normal” is a very broad term, and that there is a tremendous amount of diversity in the world. This may seem like “No shit, Sherlock” stuff, but so many of my classmates at both of my colleges didn’t know anything about gender diversity, or the ins and outs (no pun intended, seriously) of sexuality. A girl down the hall from me freshman year kicked out her roommate because her roommate was gay, and she feared that homosexuality was contagious. I had to explain to a friend why I always referred a male-to-female transgendered friend as “she”. A friend of mine, after asking another friend about anal sex, said that she thought that anal was “SO GROSS!!!” after her friend offered her some helpful suggestions on anal. And the attitude at Big Name Art School, especially from the freshman guys, is that they are somehow entitled to sex from everyone who shops at the women’s section of Urban Outfitters.

College is so often treated by pop culture as this booze-soaked sexual playground, but the truth is that many students are confused, and downright scared of sexuality. A comprehensive, required course on sexuality can help debunk many of the myths about sex that college students learn from years of poor education, and open up students minds so that they learn not to put sex, gender, and orientation into neat little boxes. After all, learning to keep an open mind is what colleges should be about in the first place.

A troupe of young girls becomes a YouTube sensation due to an energetic dance routine to Beyonce’s “Single Ladies”, and triggers a moral panic across the nation, due to their costumes and dance moves. And frankly, the people that are worrying about how these girls performance is going to destroy childhood/the future of feminism/ etc are missing the point. Here are a group of passionate, energetic girls with spades and spades of talent, and instead of congratulating them on a job well done, we are telling them that they are bad influences.
Why is it that many adults whine and complain that young children are too exposed to technology at too young an age, that children don’t get enough physical activity in their daily lives, that children aren’t motivated enough, and then, when incredibly active, passionate, talented children get national attention, they seem to jump at the chance to pick them apart (They are wearing too much makeup! Those outfits are trashy! The choreography is inappropriate! Where are their parents? What parent would let these kids to such a thing? )
I spent a great deal of my young life in acting and dance classes, so complaints that these girls appearances are some sort of reflection on the evils of an over-sexed, patriarchal society ring false. Performers (of all genders) wear makeup at dance recitals and competitions to be seen by the audience. Just as in theatre and film, facial expressions are important when performing in a dance routine, so it’s important that the audience sees your face. And when I told my dance teachers that eyeliner/mascara irritated my eyes, they understood, and didn’t make me wear it. And strangely enough, ten years or so of performing in various and sundry costumes, wigs and makeup hasn’t harmed me much. Hell, it’s my calling.
. While I do think that two-pieced, fringed dance outfits aren’t’ the best choice for 7-year olds to wear, I think that it’s a bit of a stretch to say that these children are going to be irrevocably harmed, or that they are dragging Society As We Know It down to Hell in a sparkly dance bag. I can vouch that dance costumes were just as ri-goddamn-diculous thirteen years ago as they are now. My first dance costume (when I was seven) was reminiscent of a Vegas showgirls costume. And strangely enough, when I wasn’t decked out in my costume and makeup, I behaved like a fairly normal seven year old. I climbed trees. I got my clothes dirty. I collected frogs. I did not spend a lot of time trying to become a 90’s Lolita
That’s the thing about performance: When you are onstage singing/dancing/acting/a combination of the three, you are not the same person who walked into the dressing room wearing sweats, with your costume in a drycleaner’s bag, carrying your tackle box full of makeup. And besides practicing your dance steps while waiting in line at the grocery store, you return to your normal, sweat-pantsed life when you take off your costume, and wash off your makeup.
These girls and their choreographer probably created this routine because they wanted to have fun with a popular song. Not because they were trying to be sexy. Hell, even babies have been filmed dancing to “Single Ladies”. And when compared to entering babies in beauty pageants, and those awful high heeled shoes for babies, a baby awkwardly dancing is perfectly fine.
There is an oil spill comparable to the Exxon/Valdez catastrophe that is polluting the Gulf of Mexico. The U.S. is still recovering from a massive economic meltdown. There are two wars being fought in the Middle East. Why are we treating this as anything more than what it is: just another viral Youtube phenomenon?

** a week late, but so valid anyhow!*

It’s Mother’s Day, so many of my friends Facebook/Twitter statuses are praising their mothers for being such kind, sweet, good-smelling role models, and so on and so forth. I called my Mom up to wish her a Happy Mother’s Day, and then told her I was going to be doing homework. Instead of homework, I’m writing this. Go figure.

The thing that I’m most thankful for having my mom (and to a lesser extent, my dad) in my life is that she taught me that sexuality wasn’t a bad/icky/gross/disgusting thing, and that I have a right to safely enjoy sexuality without fear of being hurt/abandoned/otherwise treated like shit. This started out at a very young age.

When I was four, I asked her how babies were made. Instead of willful avoidance, euphemism, or mythology involving storks, she plainly said “Babies happen when a man puts his penis in a woman’s vagina”, and continued making pancakes without skipping a beat. She also did not teach me all of the names of my body parts, only to give euphemisms for my vagina, which lead to this phone exchange with a teacher when I was in kindergarten:

TEACHER: Ms. J, this is Nell Gwynne’s teacher. Do you have a minute?
MOM: Yes.
TEACHER: Nell Gwynne was playing during Recess today, and she says she got sand in her…uh, vagina.
MOM: Is she okay?
TEACHER: She’s fine. It’s just that we’re very concerned by her use of the word “vagina”.
MOM: Well, my husband and I decided that she should know all of the proper names of her body parts, including the ones that people have a difficult time talking about.
This openness about things many other parents were hesitant to talk about has persisted, which means that I still can talk to my mom about anything under the sun without fear of judgment. For example, here’s a conversation I had a couple of weeks ago with her:
ME: Hello?
MOM: Hi! How are you?
ME: Good. Uh, there’s something I need to talk about you about. It’s kind of awkward.
MOM: What is it?
ME: You know about [name of quasi-boyfriend], right?
MOM: Yeah.
ME: Well, uh…[pause]…um..[pause]. Iwasthinkingaboutgettingastrapon.
MOM: a what?
ME: a strap-on
MOM: What on earth is a strap-on?
ME: It’s a..uh..harness thing.
MOM: A harness for what? A gun?
ME: nononono, not a gun. It’s like, a harness thing for a dildo.
MOM: What do you want that for?
ME: Me and [name of quasi-boyfriend] were planning on using it together.
MOM: Oh, I see . As long as you’re not being pressured into doing anything…
ME: No, this was my idea.
MOM: Okay. Thanks for talking to me sweetie. Now, do you want money for this? …..

Along with sending money for the purchasing of strap-ons, she also sends condoms in my care packages, and provides a sympathetic ear when relationships end. When I was at my first college, a small women’s college in the Midwest, my classmates seemed to have learned this from their mothers: “Sex is an amazing thing but only when it is within [insert parameters here]. If you do [sexual activities here], you will regret it and I will be so disappointed in you”. So either my friends bought this hook, line, and sinker, and would judge people based off of their sexuality, or, they would lie to their parents about their sexuality, and put on a front for them whenever they visited. There is definitely more acceptance of sexuality at my current college, but that acceptance isn’t being mirrored by my peers’ parents. My roommate, who has been sexually active since high school, still says that her mother has no clue that she has sex.

A dance professor I once knew explained why she had her students attend a conference about sensuality in art. “I thought it was important, because my students came to be after their parents got sensual with one another”. My mothers “open door policy” when it comes to talking about sexuality with her has not damaged me. It has made our relationship stronger. If my mother had taught me that sexuality was something to be feared/ignored/repressed, I would be a deeply unhappy sonofabitch.

If I could say anything to all the other mothers out there, receiving handmade cards and breakfast in bed today, I would say to please be open with your children. Teach them how to say “vagina” and “penis” without giggling in shame. Listen to them when they have questions. Make it clear that they are loved, and that you would not throw them out of the house for being gay/bi/queer/transgender, or for just being a sexual human being. Teach them about how to be safe. Tell them that you will always be here for them. And that it’s okay to be a little confused about what a strap-on is.