‘college’

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Why Don’t We Date?

8.10.10 | 4 Comments »


Photo via.

I’ve noticed with my generation that there is a lack of dating. Isn’t dating the way we are supposed to find out if we like someone? It seems like things are working backwards: people meet one another at parties, hook up, and perhaps begin dating after that. I know that there are people out there on dates, but I’ve found that dating isn’t typical among my peers.

I’m confused by this- what is it about dating we hate? Is it too time-consuming for a generation endlessly rushing around? Is it too personable for kids used to the computer screen? According to Journalism professor Daniel Reimold, who interviewed different sex columnists from universities around the country, dating is passé- too boring.

Q: Are monogamy and romance really “dying” on today’s college campuses?

A: Yes, along with dating. The columns’ declarations about their impending deaths are general or symbolic at times, but the sentiments are clear: Students nowadays exist mainly within a casual-sex-centric or “hook-up” culture. It is a socially ambiguous set-up filled with people whom students randomly meet, sleep with, and never see again, and individuals on students’ cell phone speed dial lists available for commitment-free sex after a quick “booty call.”
Collegiate couplings exist, columns note, but they skip the courting period, rushing from straight sex to hardcore commitment at a blistering pace and accompanied by heavy drinking and sexual activity typically from a pair’s first meeting. As a Cornell Daily Sun columnist once wrote, “People here don’t date. They either couple up and act married or do the random one night hook up thing.” A separate columnist refers to the loss of what she calls “dating with a lowercase ‘d,’ ” or the more casual one-on-one activities traditionally known as courting that “on the relationship spectrum … falls after hooking up but before monogamous commitment.”

Is the Internet to blame for our lack of real life social interactions? Maybe dating isn’t casual enough – in many ways, people don’t really talk to one another in person anymore, or at least not in the same or as frequent ways. The thought of meeting up with someone for dinner can be rather intimidating: maybe it’s just easier to meet that person at a party. There’s less pressure and it’s not as awkward. But what are we scared of?

Honestly, I was a bit intimidated to go on a date this summer. This is how it played out: After meeting someone at a friend’s party, he had posted on my facebook wall that he wanted to hang out. After I saw his wall post I sent him a facebook message, and after some back and forth he gave me his cell phone number. I heard my mom in the back of my head: “you have to put yourself out there!” I texted him. Finally, we agreed on meeting up for dinner.

But in the end, it was great! We went to a low-key dinner, and then walked over to Central Park. We even caught a bit of the New York Philharmonic concert and saw fireworks. Sparks did not fly between the two of us, but I’m ok with that. It was a nice night and I’m glad I went out with him. I feel as if we got over the social networking hump- we sucked it up and met up in real life.

Yes, dating can be awkward and uncomfortable, but so can hookups. It may be different, but it’s brave and it’s oftentimes exciting. I’m not suggesting that every relationship needs to start in some antiquated way, but I think dating can be an appealing alternative to randomly hooking-up. I’m not sure why so many of my classmates and friends, and seemingly an entire youth culture, oppose what is a quality, controlled method for meeting new people and exploring new flames.

What do you think?

Attraction. Intimacy. Respect.

8.5.10 | 2 Comments »

cid_78

Author’s Note: I held a mini film screening of THE LINE recently at a friend’s house. I chose people who were from different groups in high school and attend different colleges; the group ranged in age from 18 to 20. This sticker stood out to me that night. I asked the author to write about it. She wanted to remain anonymous.This is what she wrote.

I wanted a one-night stand. I wanted the one-time experience of meeting a cute guy, going home with him, and never seeing him again. He would just be a memory, an image of pure pleasure. There would be no interrupting images of our get-to-know-you dates or the fights we had when I revisited that night in my mind. It would just be his face and bliss.

But of course, things never seem to go as planned. It started off at a party on my college campus, a very small liberal arts college in California where six degrees of separation is an understatement. I saw him from across the room talking to a friend of mine. I had never seen him before, so I assumed he was just visiting. In my inebriated state, it only took a second to work up the courage to walk up and introduce myself. We danced and seemed to make a connection, and it was not long before we were in another room together. Once there, however, I no longer felt like going through with it. It didn’t feel right. I didn’t know him. He didn’t know me. I could care less about him so I was sure I was nothing more than an easy lay for him. I said no a few times, but he kept insisting and after a while, I got tired of resisting and just gave in. I figured it could be fun and maybe he would be good and actually worth remembering.

He wasn’t. It was the most awkward experience I have had, one that would not be easily forgotten since he did indeed attend my school. I had just never noticed him before, and it seemed as though I saw him everywhere after, serving as a constant reminder of that passionless night.

Attraction was all I was looking for; I thought it was all I needed. But even that can be confused in a drunken state. I need that physical spark that can be recognized when we are both sober, not the one that is conjured up by alcohol. But beyond that, I realized I also need intimacy and respect in order to find that passion I yearn for. I want to know the guy, know about him, what he likes and how he likes it and I want him to know me and care about me as well. Only then can we be truly intimate. And of course, I want his respect. When I say no and don’t feel right about something, he should not insist. I should not have to repeatedly refuse.

Parties, Social Control, and Greek Life

7.19.10 | 7 Comments »


Image via Dawniaa on flickr.

I am not an outsider who laughs at Greek life. I’m actually part of the system- and I love being in my sorority. There are, however, some issues I have with the Greek life system overall.

I joined my sorority my second year at school, and through it I met so many new amazing women. I was even elected Philanthropy Chair, and that has given me the opportunity to lead my sisters in service endeavors; with 140 women working together this past spring we raised money for girls to go to summer camp in upstate New York, ran a book drive to raise money for Prevent Child Abuse NY, and more. I’m proud to be a part of my sorority, but at the same time there are aspects of Greek life that bother me.

The social structure that we lock into as a sorority is, for lack of a better word, stupid. Here’s how it works: sororities are dry and fraternities are not. This means there is absolutely NO alcohol allowed in the sorority houses. If the fraternities host all the parties, decide who gets to come, and provide all the alcohol, who holds all the power? Frat parties are fun –my friends and I are even known to take our costumes to the next level. But there is a problem with the structure because it promotes an unbalanced social scene.

I asked my sorority sister what she thought:

“it’s a problem, but you wouldn’t immediately say that because it seemingly benefits everyone. Boys throw parties, supply the alcohol and girls don’t have to clean up the mess or live there.”

So if we don’t have to pay for the party or clean up, what are we complaining about? The fraternity brothers have complete control. You are in his house and have to listen to what he says. This gives them a sense of entitlement, which can be dangerous. I’m not trying to say that at every frat party every guy takes advantage of his power, but it does happen: a Jezebel article once said:

In the 1920s, frat guys started worrying that living together and being all friendly with each other would make them seem gay. Solution: public demonstrations of dominance over women, including rape …

men who are in fraternities are more likely to rape than men who aren’t, and [...] frat boys may perpetrate 70 to 90% of college gang rapes.”

My friend thinks sororities shouldn’t take action on this because they “already have a bad rep.” It is not about alcohol though; it is about the unnerving power structure that continues to go unchecked at universities throughout the country. Parties are not places where power should come into play; the idea that sorority sisters cannot host parties in their own houses isn’t preventative action against drinking: instead, it enforces dangerous behavior that encourages male dominance.

Me Quiero, Me Cuido

7.7.10 | 3 Comments »

Being the quintessential Gemini that I am, I have been at odds with a lot of what is happening right now in my life while trying to figure out what my line really is. I’ve been involved with THE LINE Campaign since January of this year, starting the new year fresh with fem-fucking-power, and it has taken up a permanent spot in my heart, mind and soul. Not only does it re-awaken my feminist spirit every single day, but I have become part of the bigger movement and that has given me the courage to speak out.

A good friend of mine recently told me that I should watch what I say. Although I do admit that I don’t (always) think before I leap, I just can’t keep my mouth shut when I don’t agree with something(or somebody). He told me this after I posted a public note on the door of his building shouting out the sexist, violent asshole on the sixth floor that catcalls womyn from the stoop and thinks that hog-tying his beautiful german shepherd is “funny”. I felt that he needs to be publicly embarrassed and all the womyn living in the same building as him need to be aware of this creep. An hour later, another note appeared in the same place as the prior one stating “I know it was you, you bitch, you fucking cunt.” Obviously he couldn’t think of anything to say except to respond with vulgarities.

I don’t think that I say enough sometimes.

But back to what I was saying..

I’ve been in the city for over a week now, after traveling around New Orleans, then to Detroit for the US Social Forum. I’ve had some time now to organize and sift through my thoughts and feelings, however I am all-over-the-place and can’t seem to do much gathering. I’ve been thinking about where I stand in love and relationships frequently recently because I am seeing someone exclusively, but I’ve realized that I never reach satisfaction in any relationship because I always feel like there is something missing. For the last three years, I’ve succumbed to the fusion of another human being’s life with my own and haven’t had any time on my own.

Shit, I want to be selfish right now. I want to not worry about anyone else’s need besides my own. Fuck male domination, fuck societal paternal pressure of fucking your partner out of pity and fuck men colonizing womyn of color into relationships to obtain control over our lives. I see/hear/feel it with myself and whomever I talk to. Despite whatever madness (or realty) I may afflict, I haven’t felt this rounded and comfortable with myself– ever.

I steal the title of this post from the COLORR (Colorado Organization for Latina Opportunity and Reproductive Rights) girls who I met at USSF at their sexual health ‘zine-makin’ workshop. We ended the workshop in a circle holding-hands reciting Assata Shakur “to my people”, then placing our hands over our hearts and pussies (or cocks) while saying “me quiero, me cuido”. Translation: I love myself, then I’ll take care of myself.

Where I Feel SAFE.

7.6.10 | 1 Comment »

Photo 101

The issue of consent, and our respective lines, came up fairly early in mine and my partner’s relationship. The morning after a night of heavy drinking, he asked if we had had sex that night. I replied that we hadn’t:  he was much too drunk, and I didn’t want to take advantage of him. He didn’t seem to find a problem with sex in such a state of inebriation, explaining that “having sex is something we would have done drunk or sober.”

My partner and I have very different views on what constitutes consent. For him, the green light is given at the beginning of the relationship, while I feel safer granting permission, be it verbally or nonverbally, each time, and staying in full control of my body and the situation. These kinds of boundaries must be reconciled and respected in order for any relationship to work.

I made it very clear at that point that if I am drunk- repeating conversations; blacked out; falling asleep in an alcohol-induced slumber- or otherwise too under the influence to make a conscious, responsible decision about whether or not I want to have sex, then I am to be left alone to pass out in peace. Even more unpleasant than a hangover is the feeling of being violated.

There is no gesture sexier, more attractive, more moving, or more conveying of respect, than waking up to find yourself still in last night’s clothes, curled into the same fetal position in which you fell asleep (with a blanket protectively draped over you), and turning over to see your partner fully clothed as well, surrounded by obvious signs of sexless evening. For me, that strict observance of my boundaries and respect for my line, my sense of safety, is more romantic than any traditional display of affection; consent is the modern woman’s jewelry and flowers and chocolates and white horses and chivalrous brouhaha.

How one defines safety in a sexual situation is difficult, as it is a concept that is subjective, often circular in its logic, and privy to changing at a moment’s notice. For me, however, safety is as simple as being with someone with whom saying “yes” is just as easy as saying “no.”

I’d Tell You: Just Ask!

6.30.10 | 2 Comments »

haack

Hello, everyone! My name is Sarah Haack, and I am part of the new crop of bloggers here at Where Is Your Line?

Originally from Richmond, Virginia, I now attend American University in Washington, DC (along with the fabulous Carmen Rios, fellow Vagina Monologues cast member and she-ro) as an Environmental Studies major. I will be studying Linguistics and Scandinavian Studies at the University of Gothenburg in Sweden next year, but in the meantime, I am living in New York City, interning with the Girl Scouts of the USA, and learning the finer points of navigating bureaucracy, planning potlucks, and empowering women and girls.

I toured AU during the April of my senior year in high school, taking in the campus one last time before sending in my acceptance letter, and vividly remember the painted t-shirts strung throughout the student center in preparation for Take Back the Night, part of Sexual Assault Awareness Month. One statistic struck me in particular: that one in three women are sexually assaulted. Still in high school and rather naive, this number resonated as tragic, but hollow, sympathetic but not empathetic. Two years later, I found myself standing on the before those t-shirts as a survivor. It is selfish, I admit, to not really take up a cause until it affects oneself directly, but when I was puff-painting my own statistic on that white v-neck after a realization that took a full year, I finally understood the impact of today’s hookup culture and its implications, and how important it is to open the lines of communication not just about sexual assault, but about sex itself. The perceived “gray area” of sexual assault needs to be eliminated, and replaced with standards where a YES! is just as important as a no.
I was drawn to Where Is Your Line? by its sex-positive attitude and celebration of sexuality. Consent is more than knowing when to say no, but also knowing you can say yes; it’s feeling safe enough to enjoy sex that meets your standards, whether it be with a long-term partner or a total stranger, and being strong enough to draw a line that is either non-negotiable or ever-changing. The pervasive rape culture in which we find ourselves dictates that our demeanor, our alcohol consumption, and even our outfits, are all indicators of our willingness to be sexual- and can be interpreted as such without any discussion. And yes, my miniskirt and five-inch heels are an expression of my sexuality, but that does not (necessarily) mean I want to share that with you. Believe me, if I did, you’d know it. I’d tell you. Just ask.

My Line Is What Makes Me HAPPY.

6.30.10 | No Comments »

Tran

After the film screening of THE LINE at Barnard College, I was asked to fill out a sticker with my answer to the question “where is your line?” It was difficult for me to put into words what my line specifically was, because it is constantly changing. I thought, well I guess my line is this and that, but wait, what if I had a bad day, I wouldn’t want anyone near me! It is so hard to express what my line is in one sentence- my comfort levels can change with time, my environment, and sometimes even what I am wearing.

My decision to have sex made it difficult for me to express a line in high school. Back then, rumors about my sexual past made boys think that I would automatically have sex with them because I had already done certain things. But having sex was a decision that I made because I thought I was in love and I felt that I was ready to lose my virginity, not an invitation for dirty text messages or naked pictures. Those rumors made establishing my line a lot more difficult during high school. I didn’t like upsetting people: I wanted to make a guy happy by playing along with flirting, regardless of whether or not I felt comfortable.

Looking back at this, I thought of my answer: “My line is what makes me HAPPY at the end of the day.” Over time, I realized that the most important thing about any decision I make is my own happiness. I believe that any decision is justified as long as I can look in the mirror and still be proud of the person that I see standing before me. I have learned to be more comfortable speaking about my sex life and saying no to sex. My sexual life is supposed to make me happy, and regardless of what I choose to do, I want to be able to look in the mirror and know that I did it for my own happiness.

Excerpts from Harvard’s Sexting Report

6.28.10 | 1 Comment »


Sexting: Youth Practices and Legal Implications is a new report by the Harvard University Berkman Center for Internet and Society. Its stated purpose is to “intended to provide background for discussion of interventions related to sexting.” This is only more indication that the MTV-induced sexting panic isn’t over yet. The report covers a plethora of related issues and attempts to compile research and an analytical tongue in making sense of how sexting has changed a variety of legal definitions and cultural trends.

Some excerpts from the report (and yes, we did leave out the reference to sexting as “relationship currency.”):

On the sharing of “sexted” images:

Nearly one in five sext recipients (17%) reports having passed the
images along to someone else, with more than half (55%) of those who passed the images
to someone else sharing them with more than one person.

Nearly one in five sext recipients (17%) reports having passed the images along to someone else, with more than half (55%) of those who passed the images to someone else sharing them with more than one person.

On current legal practices:

Sexting takes place in many different contexts. Whatever the context, however, the minors involved risk being investigated for and charged with child pornography offenses. If convicted, they could be subject to the same types of punishments as adults who traffic in such images, including felony convictions, lengthy prison sentences, and sex offender registration.

On Constitutional Law:

The First Amendment to the United States Constitution “bars the government from dictating what we see, or read or speak or hear.” There are, however, a small number of exceptional categories of speech that have such “slight social value” that the government may freely regulate them in order to advance “the social interest in order and morality.” These categories include child pornography and obscenity.

On Potential Alternatives:

At one extreme, it can be argued that sexted images, unlike images of children being sexually abused, are protected by the First Amendment.

At the other extreme, one could argue that sexted images, like conventional child pornography, are exempt from First Amendment protection because the production and dissemination of such images cause harm to real children.

Rather than argue for either extreme, one could argue that sexted images can be covered by child pornography statutes if the statutes provide an affirmative defense for minors who voluntarily self‐produce and transmit such images to other minors.

To read the full report, go here.

Greek Life and Sexual Assault: Challenging the Cycle of Violence on Campus

6.22.10 | 5 Comments »


The fraternity I founded is diverse in thought, heritage, and class; we are generally a progressive and feminist-leaning group of men. On my campus, and arguably most campuses here in the US, however, Greek Life is a system built on sexism and the objectification, shaming, and abuse of women. My friend was a first-year student pledging the largest sorority on campus: this story is about her experience. (I obtained her consent to write about this beforehand.)

One night while I was walking to my fraternity’s house, a friend called me asking to be picked up from a mixer. She sounded scared and wanted to leave. My brothers were willing to go, but I dismissed the possibility that there was anything to be concerned about. After a little while, a car pulled into our driveway driven by one of her sisters. She was in the passenger seat, and when she came inside she told me that she had been uncomfortable with the men at the mixer. They had made fun of her and her sisters, saying they were going to fuck them later, slapping them on the ass, and refusing to give her their address so that someone could pick her up. She tried to leave the room, but the brothers barred the door and told her she had to stay. She pulled me into the bathroom and I tried to calm her down, but I was far from calm myself.

One of the most offensive things about the entire situation was the assumed status of women at a fraternity party as possessions without any agency, only there to fuck them and unable to exercise their right to come and go as they pleased. This is a horror story we all hear often, but I’m still appalled it actually happens. Any connection between two people based on love and attraction needs to exist through freedom, and any act of coercion is not an act of respect, openness, or mutuality. I wanted to act on the situation and make some sort of positive outcome, and I reached out to the other fraternity in anger, expressing my frustration with their actions to a close friend in their chapter in hopes that I could get them to understand the true magnitude of their behavior.

But in the end, nothing happened. My friend’s sorority sisters blamed her for “starting shit,” said that she just shouldn’t have caused a scene, and they were banned from ever partying at that house again. Her sisters dismissed and blamed her. Sexism and objectification are built into greek life, so much so that a popular saying on campus is that the only purpose for joining a sorority is to “do arts and crafts and suck frat boy cock.” In the end, I was disappointed in the idea of “sisterhood” as fleeting and hurtful, cold and blissfully ignorant of the issues they could be taking effective steps toward improving. Greek life doesn’t have to be about coercion, assault, danger, or pain- and my brothers and I refuse to support, justify, or ignore any actions that are.

Tranie Baby!

6.17.10 | No Comments »

500_Tran2Hey readers, this is Tran aka @traniebabyy and I am a new intern for whereisyourline.org!! I am currently in Pomona, California, my wonderful hometown, for summer break. I attend Barnard College of Columbia University in New York City where I am certified as a peer educator for the Rape Crisis Anti-Violence Support Center. I first saw THE LINE when Marilla Li brought it to Barnard.

I grew up in a very sheltered home because Vietnamese culture tends to keep women and girls in the background as men are seen as the dominant person of the family. This meant that my parents allowed my older brothers to do whatever they pleased while I stayed home and did homework (which paid off I guess :D ). Because of this, I really did not have any exposure to a sex culture, and rape was definitely never a topic of discussion as I grew up. My own curiosity pushed me to break away from my parents’ conservative views and do my own thing. That’s pretty much how my nickname came about. My friends always called me tranie baby because it represents my confidence and determination to finish whatever goals I have plus it was just the thing to do in high school (add baby to the end of your name). I embraced the nickname because I really wanted to prove to my parents that I can be successful. It pretty much became my alter ego as I decided to move to New York for college.

In New York, I wanted to experience a different lifestyle and be able to better myself without the interference of my family. What drew me to this campaign is my own personal experience. I feel that my line was crossed on various occasions because my partner refused to ask if I was comfortable or they believed that alcohol had impaired my judgments, so they made the decision for me! I want to be able to help create a support system for all people to feel comfortable to voice their needs during sexual activities. I love learning creative ways to talk about using protection, saying yes, saying no – things we discuss at the Center.

I’m back home now, with my friends from high school. They grew up as sheltered as I did. We didn’t learn about consent, our bodies, violation, pleasure… This summer, I vow to help bring awareness, resources and ways to have these conversations, and show people that consent is where its at!

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