For Goodness Sex (15 page)

10. Disney Movies from
Snow White
to
Aladdin
: Times Change, Gender Roles Don’t

9. “Are You Gonna Eat That?” An Examination of What Boys and Girls Buy for Lunch in the School Cafeteria

8. An Examination of Cooking Shows Hosted by Male and Female Chefs on the Food Network: What They Cook, What They Wear, and What Kind of Pots, Pans, and Equipment They Use

7. This Is
Really
Scary: Examining the Differences Between How Men and Women Are Killed in Horror Movies

6. Turkey, Football, and Who Does the Dishes: An Examination of Gender Scripts at My Family’s Thanksgiving Dinner

5. Examining Voice-Overs in Commercials: What Male Voices vs. Female Voices Are Used to Sell

4. “May I Help You? . . . But Maybe Not You”: How the Same Male Salesperson Treats Three Young Women Who Are Dressed Very Differently

3. Examining Gender in
Battlestar Galactica
: In the Future, Women Smoke Cigars

2. An Examination of Gender Differences in Suicide Attempts, Methods, and Completions

1. Lost and Found: What Happens When a Young Man vs. a Young Woman Asks for Directions from Strangers

Question Box

Q: I’m a girl, and I hate it when people, even girls, say the word “bitch” to each other or to girls. I don’t want to sound rude, but I don’t think it’s right. What to do?

A:
Good for you for wanting to stand up for what you believe is right! There are a couple of ways to handle this situation. I think the best would be to say to someone, “I’m really uncomfortable when I hear that word. Could you not use it when I’m around, please?” Notice how that’s an “I statement.” You’re not saying someone else is a bad person; you’re expressing your own desire not to hear it, which is a completely reasonable thing to request. You could also say something less formal like, “Uh, I hate that word. It’s so uncool.” Or say whatever feels most natural to you. Just make it an “I statement.”

If someone challenges you on this and asks why you don’t like the word, you don’t have to give an answer to that, but perhaps it’s good to think about why you don’t like it. Do you think it demeans women (or men)? Do you think it’s disrespectful? Do you think it’s crude? Whatever your reason, you’re welcome to share it when you ask people not to use the word. You don’t have to do that, but sometimes it helps people understand where you’re coming from.

Q: Is it wrong to assume someone is male or female by their physical appearance?

A:
Gender is such an important lens through which we view the world that we can hardly help looking at someone and instantly thinking
male
or
female
. There’s nothing wrong with that. Where we get into trouble is when we are not willing to go further than our instantaneous assumptions. We know that gender is not just two boxes labeled “male” and “female” but a continuum that expresses these ends but also a lot in between. Are we willing to go beyond or challenge our initial assumptions or judgments? Are we willing to ask if we don’t know? (And by the way, can we ever actually know for sure unless we ask—aren’t we just making an assumption that turns out to be right?) Are we open to an answer that might not be the expected “male” or “female”? An important part of respecting people as individuals is letting them define who they are. It’s wrong to shove people into rigid boxes just to make ourselves feel more comfortable. It’s not the initial assumption that’s the problem; it’s what we do afterward that counts.

Q: What does society say when girls lose their virginity as opposed to boys?

A:
The first thing I want to say about this question is beware what “society” says about issues involving human sexuality. We live in a pretty sexually unhealthy society in this country, and often the messages that are put out are not helpful in the development of healthy sexuality. Be sure to examine all messages with a critical and analytic eye.

Society makes a distinction about how and when a girl loses her virginity. If she does it on her wedding night or as part of a loving, stable relationship, society might not have anything bad to say about it. But if a girl loses her virginity in a sexual encounter not in the context of a relationship, society is, sadly, likely to look down on her. This furthers the sexist myth that there are “good girls” and “bad girls” and that boys want to date bad girls but marry good girls. Can you see how this puts both women and men in a no-win situation?

Of course, when a boy loses his virginity, no matter how it happens (as long as it’s with a woman, that is), he’s to be congratulated. How can we help develop healthy sexuality in heterosexual people when boys are told they 
should
 lose their virginity and girls are told they 
shouldn’t
?

The decision about when and how to lose one’s virginity is a highly personal decision—one that needs to be made based on what’s best for the individual and her or his own values, not what society tells us.

Q: Do cougars play the field or the game?

A:
I assume by “cougar” you’re referring to an older woman who seeks out younger men for sexual partners. Let’s stop and think about this terminology a bit. If a man seeks out younger partners, is he given such a label? What’s the assumption being made about a woman by calling her a cougar? Personally I see a lot of sexism and disrespect going on here.

In terms of your question, part of the cougar stereotype is that the woman would be the aggressor (the “player” in the baseball model). According to the pizza model, though, these roles don’t mean anything. Either partner can be more aggressive or more passive at any time depending on what she or he is feeling. Remember, those baseball rules exist only to restrict and limit our choices. I’d get rid of the whole “cougar” idea if I were you. It’ll lead to a healthier outlook on sexuality.

Chapter 6
Sexual Orientation: Whom We Love

O
K, gang, we’ve got a new topic today, so let’s start with an activity!”

The cheers go up around the room: “Yay!”

“Thank God,” one sleepy young man says. “I’m too tired to learn anything today.” Awake enough to realize what he just said, he looks up at me with a sheepish smile. I give him a quick “you-did-not-just-say-that” look and continue.

“This is called a forced-choice activity,” I say. “I’ll read a statement and give you four possible answers. Each answer will correspond to a different corner of the classroom. You will move to the corner of the classroom that corresponds with the answer you choose. No standing in the middle of two answers; you’ve got to pick one of them.”

“Wait! We have to
get up and move
?” the same sleepy young man groans. He’s not the only one. It’s early in the day and nothing is more lethargic than a teenager in the morning.

“Yes, you have to get up and move, but once you move to the corner that corresponds to your answer, you can sit down,” I say, trying to make this a little more palatable.

“I may just crawl.” The sleepy boy yawns.

“Mr. V,” a young woman in a tight ponytail pipes up, “I don’t like this idea of being forced to make a choice! What if it’s a really hard question or, like, a really personal one?”

“Not to worry,” I say. “One of the possible answers will be ‘I don’t know.’ You can go to that corner of the room if you genuinely don’t know the answer, if you simply don’t want to answer that question, or if you’re just too tired to think.” I look over at the sleepy boy, who lifts his head up off of his desk and gives me a weak thumbs up. “The ‘I don’t know’ corner is a safe zone,” I continue. “If you go there, no one can ask you why you’re there, and you don’t have to answer any questions or make any comments. You’ll just be an observer.

“OK, here’s the question. Sexual orientation is most likely the result of . . .” I point to one corner of the room. “Biological factors beyond one’s control.” I point to another corner. “Environmental factors in a person’s early life.” I point to the third corner and say, “A deliberate choice of the individual.” I point to the fourth corner. “I don’t know.” The students sit there and look at me.
“Move!”
I shout, and they scatter.

“Can I stand in the middle of two choices?” a girl asks me uncertainly.

“No. Pick a corner!” her friend yells. “Geez, weren’t you listening?”

After the groups have settled into their respective corners, I invite a few of the students to talk about why they chose the answer they did. There are always plenty of kids who do, especially if it means arguing with their friends, who might be standing in a different corner.

Kids in the biology corner often say they just believe people are born gay . . . and then someone always starts singing Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way.” Others in the biology corner cite hearing studies of identical twins that suggested if one is gay their twin has a much higher than average rate of being gay as well. Kids in the environmental corner talk about the early impact of parenting and even bring up the possibility of chemicals in the environment that may cause someone to be gay. Kids in the choice corner often cite people who entered into heterosexual relationships early in life and then divorced and chose to go into a same-gender relationship and call themselves gay.

As the students give their wide-ranging answers, what I’m actually listening for is
whom
they’re talking about, not the rationale for their choice. Nearly every time I do this activity, the same thing happens.

“Thanks for your responses, gang,” I say. “Before we address them further, I’m interested in seeing if any of you noticed a common feature running through all your responses, no matter what corner you stood in?”

I either get a lot of blank stares or a flurry of off-the-cuff ideas that range from the sublime to the ridiculous.

“That we’re all right?”

“That we’re all wrong?”

“That we’re all awesome?”

“That we’re all OK with gay people?”

“Ah! Think about that last comment,” I say. “The question was about the cause of sexual orientation, but that isn’t exactly the question you answered, was it?”

“Sure it was,” a young man in a baseball cap says. “We answered what we think makes people gay.”

“So sexual orientation equals gay or not?” I ask.

“Doesn’t it?” he asks back.

“No. A more accurate definition is ‘an enduring sexual and/or romantic attraction to individuals of a particular gender.’ ”

“Huh?” he asks, clearly lost in the wording.

“It’s whom you fall in love with and in most cases whom you want to have sex with.”

“Got it!” he says.

“Can I stick with asking you questions for a minute?” I ask. The young man nods. “Do you have a sexual orientation?”

“I’m not gay,” he says.

“Right, I know that,” I say. “But that’s not the question. Do you have a sexual orientation?”

He doesn’t answer right away; he’s looking a little puzzled. Finally his girlfriend, who is also in the class, chimes in.

“Um . . . hi, you’re straight,” she says, blowing him a kiss. He blushes a bit and agrees.

“And which of the factors—biological, environmental, or choice—do you think is most responsible for making you straight?” I ask.

“I dunno. I never thought about it,” he says. “Is that wrong?”

“No, it’s not wrong at all, but it
is
pretty common. The question I asked was about the root cause of sexual orientation. The question you, and many in the class, answered is about the root cause of homosexuality, but that’s just one of any number of possible sexual orientations. The answer you choose should be consistent whether we’re talking about what makes a person gay, straight, lesbian, bisexual, or any other orientation.”

The class is looking at one another in a way that suggests I’ve just turned their thinking on its head. Another young man, the once sleepy but now pretty alert one, asks, “So what does make straight people straight?”

“Let’s find out,” I say. “Now we’re ready to start the sexual orientation unit.”

Understanding Your Child’s Sexual Orientation . . . and Maybe Your Own

O
ne of my core values about sexual orientation is that all orientations are equally valid and should be treated the same. I don’t see heterosexuality as any more natural, moral, or important than other orientations, although it is more common. People having a different core value about orientation will see things differently, of course.

As an educator, I teach an integrated approach to sexual orientation. That means my classroom and my curriculum is inclusive of all sexual orientations and gender identities. Quick review of terms here:
gender identity
is our internal sense of our own gender. It’s who we “feel” we are at our core and how we label our own gender.
Gender expression
is the external manifestation of our gender identity. It’s how we express our gender to the world. We do this through our clothing, language, behavior, preferences, et cetera.

Rather than trying to create an exhaustive list of possible sexual orientations and risk leaving someone out, think of it this way: Our sexual orientation is determined by how our gender identity and expression direct our sexual and romantic attractions. Here are a few concrete examples:

My own gender identity is male and my gender expression is masculine. I am sexually and romantically attracted to people who also identify as male and whose gender expression is masculine. The label I use for my sexual orientation is gay.

One of my friends has a female gender identity and a feminine gender expression. She finds herself sexually and romantically attracted to people whose gender identity and expression are traditionally male
and
those whose gender identity and expression are traditionally female. She identifies herself as bisexual.

A young person I taught a few years ago who is now in college defines his gender identity as queer, although he uses masculine pronouns to describe himself. His gender expression is fluid, ranging from strongly masculine to strongly feminine to all points in between (and, no, his pronoun choice doesn’t change based upon his gender expression—he always refers to himself with male pronouns). His sexual and romantic attractions span the gender identity and gender expression spectrum, including people who identify as male, female, transgender, queer, and more. He labels his sexual orientation as pansexual, meaning his attractions cannot be categorized by any particular gender identity.