LETTER from the EDITOR
It came as something of a surprise to me when I clicked larger order. Time and again we have seen that society needs
to the Houston Chronicle website and saw their title for the story
on Open Magazine: “Full on Porn to Essays.” Even after chatting
with the Chronicle writer for an hour about the founding ideas
of the magazine--to be an open forum for multiple views on
sexuality and to be a mature reflection of the intersection of sex,
culture, politics and history-- the article was published online
with the misleading title. Lewd comments flooded in relaying
reader’s knee-jerk reactions of the conflation of a University with
Porn. A couple hours later that morning, the title of the online
article mysteriously changed to “Sex to essays,” no explanation,
no apology. Dismissive comments persevered but a couple
were a reprieve, “They are trying to figure out who the hell they
are, how they will live and by what moral and ethical standards,
and what their bodies are all about. If our young people can cut
through that confusion via open and honest discussion, then by
God, more power to them,” wrote one commenter. The deceptive
headline is particularly disappointing because porn- a transient
brainless gratifier- is the exact opposite of what Open Magazine
is. The media likes to gleefully harp on the radical extremes of
sexual expression on college campuses as if they were the norm.
By doing so, they propagate the myth that young people today
are morally degenerating via the commitment-less sex of the so
called “hook up culture.” Most of us are not engaging in frequent
casual sex, but for those who are, it’s not quite the emotional
Russian roulette that Tom Wolfe’s imagines in I am Charlotte
Simmons, but rather an element in the bildungsroman that is
college years. I think modern culture has become largely scared
about sexuality because we are scared about a loss of control, of
anything that overtakes our cerebral grip on reality. But we don’t
have to live in fear of ourselves; our awareness of the state of
sexuality in us can help us see past the labels of indecency that
so many are quick to assign. By providing a platform to voice
opinions on this intimate topic, Open is encouraging people to
be smart about sex and their freedom.
Whether we are active participants or not, the impact of
society’s ever evolving approach toward sexuality is manifested
in our collective consciousness in both subtle and striking ways.
A history professor at Rice recently posed a question to me,
which at first seemed to have an obvious answer, but upon
further consideration, its negative implications questioned my
assumptions. Her question: Have we progressed? While in many
cases the answer is yes, in more ways than we would like to concede
the answer is no. A slew of economic and health disparities, the
constancy of environment degradation, the outright repression
of minorities-things to consider before we lay back on our laurels
of being enlightened. But now more than ever, there is reason
for hope; the rise in the public’s awareness is breaking down
the doors of complacency and catalyzing collaborative solutions
to some of our most challenging problems. But how does this
relate to sexuality? The first place we can begin to understand
and improve our common humanity is within ourselves: once
we understand seuxuality, an act at the very core of who we are,
we can move beyond preoccupations with the self to address the
redress of these seemingly basic issues, and when there is need
for redress, there will be a need for publications like Open, and
the discourse they provoke.
It bewilders me that in a country founded on the
premise of equality and the pursuit of happiness that we would
so explicitly step on a group’s right to pursue happiness through
marriage. In concert with an increase in mobility, freedom and
new perspectives on gender roles, the nature of relationships
is evolving to include non-marriage alternatives which can be
perfectly healthy and acceptable for people who choose not to
be limited to conform to tradition. But for those who do choose
to celebrate commitment through marriage, who are we to stop
them? Even while the government is struggling under the
weight of national security, environmental and economic issues,
certain individuals think it is a prudent use of an overstretched
government’s regulatory powers to dabble in personal lives,
imposing cookie cutter restrictions on a diverse populace.
Bewildering. That’s all I can say. But again, there is hope: it is
fascinating just how much public perception has been shifting
on a supposedly set-in-stone moral standard on homosexuality.
It was only in 1974 that the American Psychiatric Association
removed it’s classification of homosexuality as a mental disorder
in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual. That in thirty some
years something changed from being viewed as a mental disorder
to something that is generally accepted speaks to the fact that
many sexuality issues are a socially constructed problems. In
an excellent commentary on Proposition 8, MSNBC anchor
Keith Olbermann concludes his speech with the phrase
“Good night and good luck-” the same closing used by CBS
anchorman Edward Murrow when he exposed McCarthyism as
a witch hunt- drawing parallels between the ignorance induced
irrationality that gripped the nation during the Cold War and
a similar irrationality that can be the only explanation of how
Americans could vote to prohibit two people from marrying.
Similarly, there are parallels between Hollywood’s alignment
with humanitarian causes despite the Red Scare paranoia and its
current sympathies for gay rights, demonstrated by a theater full
of the titans of cultural influence applauding Sean Penn’s Oscar
acceptance speech for Best Actor in Milk. In front of a television
audience of 36 million Americans, Sean Penn announced, “I
think it is a good time for those who voted for the ban [on
same sex marriage] to think and reflect and anticipate their
great shame and the shame in their grandchildren’s eyes if they
continue that way of support.” If society as a whole is to make
progress, we need not only understand our own motivations,
but also to realize how our actions, both politically and socially,
translate into how we respect others. And on a personal level, we
need to realize the impact our sexual practices can have on other
people’s lives. Thoughtfulness about one’s sexuality is, dare I say,
not about the sex, but about how sex is a reflection of ourselves.
Rachel Solnick
 TABLE of CONTENTS
2 Letter from the Editor Poetry
3 Table of Contents
4 News Brief 56 Metamorphosis
Zara Ahmad-Post
Compiled by Christine Gerbode
6 Survey 57 Missed Connections
Compiled by Dayna Fondell Ann Wang
59 Flitting By...
Sarah Farid
Articles 60 Decanting Sillhouettes
8 It’s Not Just About Sex: Prop 8 A. Iver
Meghan Baker 61 Plums
12 V-Day: Until the Violence Stops J. Rod Pannek
Mihan Lee
62 Dotted Line
14 The Serpent’s Gift Explained Anonymous
Interview with Dr. Jeffrey J. Kripal by Klara Wojtkowska
62 Close Call
21 MoSex Jeremiah Bolinsky
Katherin Sudol
63 Woman Spread and Wide Open
22 Pure and Not So Simple Loren Kwan
Christine Gerbode
64 Accordian In His Hands
24 Evolution and the Future of Contraception Vanessa Johnson
Zeno Yeates
65 Once Upon A Time
Klara Wojtkowska
Perspective 66 Young Love
28 First Comes Marriage, Then Comes Love Aaron Tallman
Chaya Murali 68 Revolution
30 What It Means To Be A Girl Klara Wojtkowska
Katelyn Willis 69 Furrow
32 The Making of Love Kris Wettstein
Anonymous 70 Unbound Circles
33 Tit for Tat: Shake It Up for Mama, Boys A. Iver
Tiffany Kim
34 A Queer View on Sleeping Around
Anonymous
35 Master of My Domain
Jamie Sammis
36 Stigma Published with generous
Rose Hansen support from:
38 The “L” Word
Donna Huang Dr. Bill Wilson Student
40 My Sex, My Certainty Initiative Grant
Anonymous
Campus Progress/
Center for
Short Stories American Progress
42 Lolita: On Acid (CampusProgress.org)
Gregory Laco
44 Can’t and Fear Rice Wellness Center
Anonymous Wiess College
45 Doux
Zara Ahmad-Post
Jones College
46 Some Call It Band Camp
Christine Pao
49 Love Question Mark
Lime
STAFF of OPEN MAGAZINE

Editor-in-Chief: Rachel Solnick

Design Editor: Celestine Shih
Photography Editor: Ariel Shnitzer

Perspectives Editors:
Christine Gerbode, Caitlin Miller
Short Story Editors:
Sarah Farid, Anastasia Harris
Articles Editors:
Kat Sudol, Sergio Jaramillo
Poetry Editors:
Klara Wojtkowska, Tema Watstein
Design Team:
Christine Gerbode, Jenny Chan,
Lissa Glasgo, Lily Chun, Rachel Solnick
Editorial Staff:
Margaret McKeehan,
Amanda Hu, Becky Leven
Photographers:
Matt Taylor, Amy Lanteigne
Post Secret/Event Coordinator: Yesle Kim
Business Manager: Denver Greene

Please submit articles, short stories, poems,

photos and art to RiceOpen@gmail.com or :
Open Magazine
6340 Main Street
Houston, TX 77005

Cover photo by Will Fischer / Cover design by Ethan Feuer

Submissions disclaimer: A submission becomes the
non-exclusive property of Open .

Open is looking for writers, designers

and editors for next year’s staff! Email
RiceOpen@gmail.com.
To advertise, contact RiceOpen@gmail.com
Open Magazine is a literary arts maga-
zine produced by undergraduates at
Rice University. Copyright © 2009 by
Photo by Ariel Shnitzer

Open Magazine. No portion of Open

Magazine may be reproduced without
permission. All rights reserved.

Download a PDF:
www.openmagazine.rice.edu
 NEWS
Christine Gerbode
POLITICS constitutionality of Proposition 8, the developing nations.” The “Mexico City
constitutional amendment passed by policy,” which stripped of US funding
Plan B for 17 year olds–– A Federal 52% of voters this past November, any organization supporting, offering, or
Judge in New York ruled on March which bans same-sex marriage. providing information about abortion
23, 2009 to ease the age restriction Campaigners say that the battle was to women in developing nations, was
to Plan B to allow women as young won at the last moment by a huge first announced by Reagan in 1984 at
as 17 to purchase it. Plan B is a pill influx of donated money, including a a United Nations conference regarding
that prevents conception if taken up large show of support from Mormon population and development. It was
to 72 hours after unprotected sex. In groups and donors. California passed rescinded by the Clinton administration
1999, access to the pill required a a similar measure in 2000, Proposition in 1993 but reinstated by Bush in 2001.
doctor’s prescription, but because of the 22, which defined marriage as between The original implementation cut off
short time window, the World Health a man and a woman. A separate section 20% of all funding for the International
Organization encouraged that the pill of the constitution, however, recognized Planned Parenthood Federation, and
be made available over the counter in marriages formed outside of the state did significant damage to the budgets
2001. Five years later in 2006 it was of California, regardless of involved of other organizations around the world
finally available, albeit with an 18 year genders. Several legislative measures to that refused to alter their stances. The
old age restriction set by the Food and legalize same-sex marriage were passed scope of the policy made exceptions for
Drug Administration in response to internally between 2005 and 2007 abortions of children of rape or incest.
pressure from the Bush administration. but vetoed by Gov. Schwarzenegger
The average age for first intercourse on the grounds that the public had Vermont Reconsiders SS Marriage––
in the US is 17 years. According to voted in favor of the ban. In May On Monday, March 16, Vermont
the NY Times, the judge criticized 2008, Proposition 22 was overturned legislators began hearings on a bill
the FDA for ignoring the advice of by the California Supreme Court, to legalize same-sex marriage in the
scientific panels and for appointing which spurred the current legal battle. state. Vermont was the first state in
people with anti-abortion views to an the nation to implement civil unions
independent panel reviewing Plan B. Anti-Micegenation Law Repealed–– as an option for same-sex couples,
In July 2008, Massachusetts lawmakers though nearly a dozen legislators who
‘Red Sex, Blue Sex’–– Spurred by the voted to repeal a 1913 law preventing voted for the adoption of civil unions
scandal surrounding Bristol Palin’s couples from marrying in the state if lost their seat in the election that
pregnancy and quick marriage, The their home states have laws banning followed. Vermont leaders announced
New Yorker reported in November on their union. The clause is a holdover several weeks ago that they intend to
the work of sociologist Mark Regnerus from a diverse set of anti-miscegenation pass the bill before adjourning in May,
(UT Austin) regarding pregnancy laws passed and enforced in North though opponents want the measure
and divorce rates among evangelical America since the colonial days and in to be put to a voter referendum.
Christians and “moral-values voters.” some cases not repealed until the late
The data suggested that more than half 1960’s. The laws ranged from early
of teens that take abstinence pledges Maryland law banning the marriage HEALTH AND SCIENCE
have premarital sex, and that such of whites to black slaves to Virginia’s
pledges are only effective when taken “Racial Integrity Act,” which felonized 2006 Teen Birth Stats Released––
by less than 30% of a social group any marriage between whites and non- The Center for Disease Control
(adherence to the pledges tends to whites and was famously overturned in released data on teen pregnancy for
cease when pledge-takers are no longer the 1967 case of Loving v. Virginia that 2006, which showed an increase in
an “embattled minority”). The data declared all such laws unconstitutional. birth rates among teenage girls for the
also suggests two emerging patterns The Massachusetts clause had been first time in 15 years. Conservatives
of marriage and divorce loosely used in recent years to bar some same- blame cultural glamorization of unwed
mirroring American political divisions sex couples from marrying in the state. pregnancy by movies such as Juno, as
-young “red state” couples, who Connecticut is currently the only other well as comprehensive sex education,
marry before emotional and financial US state in which same-sex couples while liberals blame abstinence-only
maturity are more likely to divorce, can marry. Internationally, only the education supported by the Bush
while “blue state” couples, though Netherlands, Belgium, Canada, Spain, administration and misinformation
typically more open to premarital sex, South Africa, and Norway officially about contraceptives and their
are more likely to marry and have recognize and grant gay marriages. effectiveness. Mississippi, New Mexico,
children later, and to stay together. and Texas were (in descending order)
‘Global Gag’ Untied Again–– Barely a the top three states in terms of
State Court to Rule on Prop. 8–– week into his term, President Obama teen pregnancy, ranging from 68.4
On March 5, the Supreme Court of reversed what The Nation calls “one of the to 63.1 births per 1,000 teen girls.
California began a hearing on the most damaging policies ever visited on
 NEWS 

Safe Sex, Over the Phone–– A group at more light-hearted designs (“Got Laid. by People for the Ethical Treatment of
Rutgers University is, with a $2 million Was Happy. : -) Got Tested. Wasn’t Animals to promote vegetarianism, on
grant from the National Institute of Healthy : -(“), but all include a basic the grounds that the ad “depicted a level
Health, developing a soap opera for message that the sender has an STD of sexuality exceeding [the station’s]
cell-phones with a safe-sex message. and the recipient should seek testing. standards.” The ad states that “Studies
Rachel Jones, a Registered Nurse show vegetarians have better sex”
at Rutgers College of Nursing who and shows women in lingerie licking,
first came up with the idea, has spent caressing, and grinding vegetables
years working with AIDS patients against their pelvic regions. A PETA
and information campaigning. Jones rep complained that “PETA’s veggie
says that many women in her research ads are locked out, while ads for fried
tell her that unprotected sex is “what’s chicken and burgers are allowed, even
expected to hold on to a man.” The though these foods make Americans
research group will distribute video- fat, sick and boring in bed.” Another
capable cell phones to 250 women, rejected PETA ad showed a finger
show them twelve 15-minute episodes playing with a pea in a half-open pod.
over the course of several months, then Gardasil for Guys?–– Since 2006, the
survey them about behavioral changes. popularity of the recent Gardasil vaccine Times Are Hard, Getting Harder––
put HPV on the radar for thousands of The economy may be in a downslide, but
Czechs Castrate Sex Offenders–– teenage women considering protection the sex toy market is seeing a sizeable
Human rights groups are upset by the against the Human Papilloma Virus increase in sales, according to industry
common use of surgical castration on and the cervical cancer it has been insiders. New lines of “designer” sex
sex offenders in the Czech Republic. shown to cause. As of now, Merck’s toys, employing clever aesthetics and
Czech officials say the procedure is Gardasil is only FDA-approved for carrying price tags upwards of $100,
voluntary as an alternative to more jail women. But new research suggests that are drawing new customers in a time
time, though the Council of Europe the same HPV that Gardasil protects when most consumers are rethinking
claims that the prisoners in question against could be causing mouth and the difference between luxury and
are often mislead during this decision- throat cancer in both genders. Normally necessity. Claire Cavanah, a founder
making process. Particularly disturbing only seen in older patients who heavily of the website and New York erotic
are cases in which the punishment drink and/or smoke, oropharyngeal paraphernalia store Babeland, says that
is used on first-time, nonviolent cancers for patients between 20-49 sales haven’t spiked so dramatically
offenders (e.g., exhibitionists). The US have doubled in the past 30 years since September 11, 2001. Sales of
Supreme Court declared involuntary (National Cancer Institute), with 60% toys over $80 have risen by more
surgical castration “cruel and unusual” of the cancers in recent years being than 50% in the last year. “People are
in 1985, though the practice was not caused by HPV. Merck is currently looking for stress relief and a little
uncommon in the first half of the trying to get Gardasil approved for men. connection,” Cavanah says. Popular
century for punitive or psychological “luxury toys” include Swedish company
reasons. “Chemical castration,” the Lelo’s Gigi, which is “a rose-colored,
administration of medication designed CULTURE spoon-shaped vibrator,” and pearl
to reduce sex drive and activity, has necklaces that double as wrist restraints.
been used in 6 US states as punishment 3.8-Million-Dollar Baby–– A 22-
for sex offenders, and in California year-old Sacramento State student Tree Huggers Gone Wild–– These
and Florida it is the mandated legal using the pseudonym Natalie Dylan days, chaining yourself to a tree is so
punishment for certain offenses. is auctioning off her virginity to pay passé. A Norwegian group called “F*ck
for her education. The deal is being for Forest” is raising the bar. FFF is
STD Notifications Go Digital–– brokered through the famous Bunny “a non-profit erotic ecological project
Recently men and women have begun Ranch brothel in Nevada, where in made by concerned humans who wish
sending e-cards to sexual partners to tell many counties off-street prostitution to protect nature and liberate life,”
them to get tested for STDs through is legal with licensing. Dylan, ironically according to the group’s website. “With
inSPOT, an “online partner notification or fittingly, has a degree in Women’s the help from sexually free people
system.” The system was developed, Studies, and intends to continue on and by showing the beauty of natural
with the support of San Francisco to a Masters degree to enable her to love, nudity and sex, we wish to direct
health officials, by Internet Sexuality practice family psychology. attention to and collect money for the
Information Services, a nonprofit based Earth’s threatened nature. Saving the
in Oakland, CA. The choices range from Was the Pumpkin Complaining?–– planet IS sexy!” FFF is billed as the
the style of sympathy cards (“I hate to NBC rejected from this year’s only environmentally-friendly porn
tell you this...” in calligraphic script) to Superbowl lineup a commercial created site (and we believe them).
 S UR V E Y
Dayna Fondell

W hat do the questions say? What are the

assumptions that go into them, and what
norms are they promoting? Does the
survey do more harm than good?
“Sexual behavior is a volatile and sensitive topic,
and surveys designed to reveal it have both great
High lights (pertaining to the almost 1,000 Rice students
who took the survey):

• 59.4% of students have had sex, 63.2% of which are men

power and great limits. By revealing the private
behavior of others, they provide a way for people to
evaluate their own behavior and even the meaning
of information the surveys produce… yet results
are limited by researchers’ often unrecognized
preconceptions about what the important questions
are and also by respondents’ ability and willingness
and 56.7% women. This is an increase from last year of
males (up from 61.2%), but a decrease in females (down
from 60.5%).
• The Engineering majors had the fewest students who
reported having sex last semester (37.5%), while Music
majors had the most students who reported having sex
last semester (64%).
Sexual Activity By College
80

to reveal what they have done. Surveyors frequently 70

assume that the facts are historical realities to be
tapped by experts rather than transitory events 60

that are open to interpretation. And the ‘truths”’

Percent of Non-Virgins
50
surveys reveal have enormous implications.”
- Julia A. Ericksen and Sally A. Steffen, 40

Kiss and Tell: Surveying Sex in the Twentieth Century 30

On the next page are the results from a survey of 981 20

students at Rice University about their views and activity

10
pertaining to relationships and sexual activity. This article will
highlight some of the results, and you can see the full report 0

at the Open website, http://openmagazine.rice.edu/. While Baker Brown Hanszen Jones Lovett Martel Sid Rich Wiess Will Rice

it is interesting to look at the results and subsequent statistics College

about sexual activity at Rice it is important to keep in mind Percent of Students in Each Year That Have Had Sex
a few things. There were only 46 questions asked, and some 90
may not have been the ‘right’ questions. Also, the survey
80
was voluntary, and though there was large participation it is
possible that people did not take the survey because they felt 70

uncomfortable revealing private information, and that others 60

Percentage of Students

may have not truthfully answered the questions. Additionally, 50

participants may have interpreted questions differently.
As I was interpreting the results I had to face the fact 40

that the some of the questions had people place their sexuality 30

into strict categories. Many individuals who identified as 20

heterosexual have engaged in traditionally sexual acts with
members of the same sex, and significantly more - especially 10

females - reported having thoughts about engaging in 0

sexual activity with members of the same sex. Perhaps the Freshman Sophomore Junior Senior Graduate Student

survey should also ask whether individuals have questioned Class/Year

their sexual orientation, determined their orientation based

on experiences with both sexes, or been able to rank their
orientation along a range between heterosexuality and
homosexuality.* This survey, for me, raised as many questions
as it ‘answered’ and I feel demonstrates the need for more
open discourse about sex and sexuality beyond the categories
commonly promoted.
* The most common scale used is the Kinsey scale with 1 representing strict
heterosexuality and 7 representing strict homosexuality. Alfred Kinsey, the
developer, estimated that the majority of individuals fall somewhere in the middle,
therefore establishing some form of bisexuality as the actual ‘normal’ orientation.
• More men than women reported that efforts to look
nice are more for members of the preferred sex than for
themselves.
• 5.7% of students say they have engaged in sexual activity
(kissing to sex) in order to gain benefits (money, etc.).
• 14.2% of students have never “made out” with someone.
• 23.9% of males think previous experience is a turn-on,
20.5% think it is a turn-off.
• 26% of females think previous experience is a turn-on,
17.7% think it is a turn-off.
 SURVEY 

Relationship Status • 83.2% of students have had an orgasm, 94.4% of which

60 are males, and 75.3% of which are females.
• 63.9% of females who have had sex have experienced an
50
orgasm during vaginal sex.
• 59.8% of people who have had sex had unprotected sex.
Percentage of Respondents

40
• Only 45.5% of these students have gotten an STI test,
30
but 35.9% of all students who have had sex have had an
STI test.
20 • 19.9% of females have taken emergency contraception,
compared to 14% of college females nationwide.
10 • 8.1% of students say they have experienced some form of
sexual abuse at Rice, down from 10.1% last year. (Despite
0
Single Casually dating one Seeing multiple Serious relationship Serious relationship
this statistic, only one case was reported by RUPD last
person people at Rice w/ someone not at
Rice
year).
Relationship Status
Age of "First Time"
• 53.9% of males say their ideal relationship status would be 160

a serious relationship with one person. 63.4% of females 140

prefer this as well. (Currently being in a relationship has a
statistically significant positive correlation to having 120

had sex, and to a reported degree of happiness). Number of Respondents 100

• 63.7% of students say that religion plays no role in their
engagement in sexual activity. 80

• 80.5% of students masturbate. 60

How Often Do You Masturbate? 40

250
20
Men
Women
200 0
<13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 >23
Number of Respondents

Age
150

100
• 12.7% of students received abstinence-only sex ed,
26.3% abstinence-plus, 43.2% comprehensive, and 17.7%
received no sex ed. (There was no correlation between
50
having had abstinence-only education and having had
sex, or age at which the individual first had sex).
0
Never Not Usually Sometimes Regularly

Frequency

How Often Would You Prefer To Have Sex?

60

50

Men
Percentage of Respondents

Women
40

30

20

10

0
Every day Multiple Once a Multiple Once a Once every Several Yearly Only to
times a week times a month couple of times a have
week month months year children
Frequency
  ARTICLES
It’s Not Just About Sex: Prop 8
Meghan Baker is a University of Houston
graduate student and President of Impact
Houston, an advocacy group working toward
equality for the GLBT community.
I
ronically enough, just about the
only thing gays and lesbians
can do under the full protection
of the law is have sex. Thanks
to the Supreme Court case of
Lawrence v. Texas (2003), sodomy is
no longer illegal in the United States.
Up until the ruling, roughly 21 states,
including Texas, had a law on the books
making sodomy illegal. It may surprise
you, however, to learn that gay, lesbian,
bisexual, and transgender (GLBT)
individuals still do not have the right
to be free from discrimination in the
workplace. In fact, just recently a friend
of mine was fired from her job as a social
worker, because a supervisor asked her
if she was “queer,” and she said yes. In
theory, the law allows for heterosexuals
to be fired on account of their sexual
orientation, but that never seems to
come up. We are also not allowed to
serve openly in the military, even when
we are willing to put our very lives on
the line for a country that does not
allow us the rights we deserve. This is
outright discrimination.
Gay Marriage (or the lack thereof ) in
America
While we have inaugurated
our first African American President,
English common law criminal-
1941-45
ization of sodomy following a
1533
proclamation by King Henry
VIII. Sodomy meant “any non-
Photo by Amy Lanteigne
procreative sexual activity.”
The term
1869
“homosexuality”
comes into
existence.
we are still perhaps decades away from
providing full equality for the GLBT
community, including gay marriage
in all 50 states. Today, the only states
that offer same-sex couples the same
marriage rights as heterosexuals are
Connecticut and Massachusetts. A
handful of states (less than 20%) do
offer same-sex couples an alternative
to marriage, usually called either a civil
union or a domestic partnership. Many
people mistakenly believe that these
institutions provide same-sex couples
with “the same” rights as marriage. In
reality, there is no unified definition of
what rights they entail, and each state
Homosexuals in Germany are held in con-
centration camps. When allied troops
arrive, they are not released, but rather
forced to continue their sentences under
Paragraph 175 of the Reich Criminal Code.
Meghan Baker
has its own version of what it calls “civil
unions” or “domestic partnerships.”
While some states, like California,
offer many of the rights of marriage
to couples that register as domestic
partners, other states may only grant a
few of the over one thousand rights that
are afforded to straight couples, such as
hospital visitation, adoption rights, or
the right to file joint state income taxes.
People often argue that if a
civil union or domestic partnership
did offer same-sex couples all or most
of the rights of “traditional” marriage,
than it should not matter whether or
not you call it “marriage.” However,
I would remind these people that the
notion of “separate but equal” died back
in 1954 when the Supreme Court in
Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka
overturned Plessy v. Ferguson, a decision
that eventually led to integration and
sparked the civil rights movement.
What Happened in California?
On May 15th, 2008, the
California Supreme Court ruled in the
case called In re Marriage Cases that
it is unconstitutional for the state of
California to deny same-sex couples
the right to marry. In that decision,
the Court ruled that marriage is a
fundamental right under the California
Constitution. However, those opposing
same-sex marriage gathered enough
signatures to get a measure on the
November 4th, 2008 ballot which would
The Stonewall riots take place
in Greenwich Village in New
1969
York City, effectively kicking
off the latter day gay rights
movement in America.
The US Supreme Court rules
1967
in the case of Loving v. Virginia
that marriage is a “fundamen-
tal right” which cannot be de-
nied to interracial couples.

take that fundamental right away.
My wife and I were married
in California on August 11th, 2008,
and I honestly did not think that the
in a place like California, where many
of my relatives live, people would go
against their state Supreme Court
and take away that right from others.
November 4th and the days
following the election were a time of
mixed emotions for me, as well as for
countless other GLBT people across
the country. Here we were on what was
to become a historic day; a day in which
we hoped the majority would respect the
rights of the minority and vote down
Prop 8. But the majority of Californians
voted against equality, and across the
state, county clerks stopped allowing
same-sex couples to obtain marriage
licenses. Not only was Proposition 8
passed in California, but Americans
also voted to ban same-sex marriage in
Florida and Arizona; in Arkansas voters
took away the right of gay and lesbian
couples to adopt. Across the nation,
members of the GLBT community and
our allies became frighteningly aware
of the disparity between our nation’s
progress with racial equality and the
all-out attacks still being waged against
the rights of GLBT people.
As a result of this legislation,
many in our community were outraged.
We took our pain to the streets in cities
across the country by the thousands,
and a new wave of activists was born
out of what began as anger, frustration,
and heartbreak for many of us. A group
called Join the Impact was started by
a couple of individuals in Ohio who
ARTICLES
made plans for a nationwide protest
against Prop 8 to take place just days
later, on November 15th, 2008. I was
privileged to be one of the organizers
here in Houston. Within a week, more
than 4,000 people had been invited
to the event on Facebook alone, and
when the day came, more than 700
people from all over the state were in
attendance. Ray Hill, the so-called
father of the gay rights movement in
Houston, gave an impassioned speech
in which he quoted the late, great
Harvey Milk- the first openly gay man
to be elected to public office- as saying
that what gay, lesbian, bisexual, and
transgender people need to do in order
to make progress is “Come out, come
out, come out.” As Ray so eloquently
put it, if your family invites you home
for the holidays but says your partner is
not welcome, “then don’t f**king go!” the sheer ignorance that most lay people
What happened in California
was remarkable in many ways. For one,
the vote for Proposition 8, taking away
the right of same-sex couples to marry,
stood out as the single conservative vote
in that state. Specifically, a majority of
Californians voted for Barack Obama.
They also voted to a pass Proposition
2, the Prevention of Farm Animal
Cruelty Act which more strictly
regulated the ethical treatment of farm
animals. Although an unpopular bill
in California, a state which thrives
on its agricultural industries, it still
passed. This prompted many to point
out that apparently Californians care
more about the rights of animals
than they care about the fundamental
rights of humans, specifically gay ones.

Finally, Californians voted down a
ballot measure (Proposition 4), which
would have tightened restrictions
on abortion. On the surface, these
votes indicate that even a left-leaning
majority in California could not bring
itself to allow same-sex marriage.
Many people are still
speculating as to how Proposition 8
passed in California. Everything from
conservative African Americans and a
heavily Catholic Hispanic population,
to bad marketing and Mormons have
been blamed for the success of this bill.
One thing we know for sure is that the
other side had more money, much of
it from the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter Day Saints. Another thing we
know is that the other side used all of
this money to exploit and capitalize on
peoples’ fears. They took advantage of
have about the laws, about equality, and
about gay and lesbian people. Basically,
they flat-out lied. Their ads spoke of
family, and children, and exploited the
myths about the GLBT community
and about gay marriage in California.
One ad (the only one I
watched, as it was all I could handle-
www.protectmarriage.com) set up a
scenario involving neighbors. The first
couple is a straight couple, Jan and
Tom, who have two children and a dog,
and own a minivan. “Tom mows his
lawn on Saturday, Jan loves to cook...”
The second couple is Dan and Michael,
a same-sex couple. After explaining
that Jan and Tom are torn about Prop 8,
because they are good friends with Dan
and Michael and have even entrusted

The American Psycho- The US Supreme Court rules in The Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) is
logical Association (APA) the case of Bowers v. Hardwick passed. States need not treat same-sex
1986

1996
1973

removes homosexuality that consensual sex between two relationships as marriages. The federal
from its list of psychiatric people of the same gender is not government may not treat same-sex rela-
disorders. protected by the Constitution tionships as marriages for any purpose.

Harvey Milk, member of the San Don’t Ask Don’t Tell is signed
1993
1978

Francisco Board of Supervisors into law by President Clinton, al-

and the first openly gay man lowing the military to discharge
elected to office in California is servicemen and women who
assassinated by Dan White. commit “homosexual acts.”
10 ARTICLES
them with watching their dog, the ad
then lays out all the various reasons why
Jan and Tom should vote YES on Prop
8. It mentions that same-sex couples
already have civil unions and uses a
pathos based scare tactic, citing children
in Massachusetts being read a book
called King and King, where two men
get married. The ad also propagates the
myth that churches would be required
to perform same-sex marriages. In fact,
the Supreme Court decision in In re
Marriage Cases specifically stated that
churches would NOT be required to
do so. In the commercial, Jan and Tom
decide to vote yes on Prop 8, thereby
taking away Dan and Michael’s right to
get married. Nonetheless, the ad closes
by saying that Jan and Tom are still
good friends with Dan and Michael,
and that in fact the families are having
a barbecue together right now. I say that
is bullshit. It smacks of the pejorative
images common in the nineteenth
and twentieth centuries of mammies
and Uncle Toms, and it carries with
it a false sense of acquiescence, which
is misleading at best and dangerous
and subversive at worst. In the days
following the passage of Prop 8, I read
many apropos quotes in reference to
the Yes on 8 campaign, which all came
from the same source. One example
of these goes something like this
“Make the lie big, make it simple,
keep saying it, and eventually they will
believe it.” The source? Adolf Hitler.
The good news here is that a
case called Strauss v. Horton has already
been filed in California, which seeks to
overturn Proposition 8, and which could
be heard as early as March of 2009.
One of the main arguments against the
passage of Prop 8 is that this law is not
a constitutional amendment, but rather
a revision. That is to say, that taking
away a right, which the state Supreme
Court had deemed to be a fundamental
right, is such a major change that it
requires the constitution be revised by
passing through a 2/3 vote in the state
legislature, not just a ballot proposition.
By allowing Prop 8 to stay on the books,
the Supreme Court would be saying
that it is acceptable for a powerful
majority to take away the fundamental
rights of a vulnerable minority with
a simple popular vote. This is exactly
what the 14th Amendment of the U.S.
Constitution was intended to prevent.
In addition, the Attorney General for
the state of California has said that
he will defend in court the rights of
those already married and has urged
the Supreme Court to repeal Prop
8. Nevertheless, if the other side has
anything to say about it (and they will),
this will not be an easy battle to win.
What does orange juice have to do
with anything?
If Prop 8 gave us anything other
than a headache, it is an enemy to fight.
Lately, I have heard people remark that
it often takes a worthy adversary to get
people in the community fired up and
to breathe new life into the movement.
Perhaps the most prominent example
of this was the case of Anita Bryant,
beauty queen turned singer, turned
Florida orange juice spokeswoman, who
became famous for her outspoken views
against gay rights. She was instrumental
in creating the law in Florida that
banned gay couples from adopting (a
law which was just recently overturned
by a Florida district judge), and she
traveled the country fighting against
policies outlawing discrimination based
on sexual orientation. She was even
quoted as saying “If gays are granted
rights, next we’ll have to give rights
to prostitutes and to people who sleep
with St. Bernards and to nailbiters.”
This slippery slope argument, which
suggests that if we allow a man to marry
another man, then we will have to let
people marry animals (or have plural
marriages) is ludicrous and simple to
avoid: simply allow for any one person
to marry any other one person. The
response of the gay community to
Anita Bryant’s massive campaign in the
1970’s was monumental, bringing gays,
lesbians, bisexuals, and transgender
people out of the woodwork and
amassing a visible force to reckon with.
So, perhaps the passage of Proposition
8 was a blessing in disguise so much as
it rivals Anita Bryant in its ability to
spur excitement and energy in the fight
for equality, a difficult feat indeed.
Gay Texans? Isn’t that an oxymoron?
Here in Houston, we have
an even bigger battle to fight. Texas
passed a constitutional ban on gay
marriage in 2005, and while some
states, including California, offer same-
sex couples some rights of marriage
in the form of domestic partnerships
or civil unions, Texas offers none. Zip.
Zilch. Zero. There are over 1,100 legal

Vermont The Supreme Court rules in Law- Mayor Gavin Newsome

June 26

Feb. 12

grants same- rence v. Texas that it is unconsti- authorizes the San Fran-
2000

sex couples tutional to make sodomy against cisco county clerk to begin
the right to the law, overturning its earlier giving marriage licenses to
civil unions. decision in Bowers v. Hardwick. same-sex couples.
2003 2004
The Massachusetts Supreme
June 7

Feb. 4

Gene Robinson became Court holds that full marriage

the first openly gay Bishop rights, and not civil unions,
of the Episcopal church. are guaranteed under the
state constitution.
 ARTICLES 11
rights and responsibilities that come
with marriage, and those of us who
live here must pay a lawyer thousands
of dollars to draft documents to secure
about five of these, including medical
power of attorney, second-parent
adoption (if you can find one of only
a handful of judges in this state willing
to grant them), and inheritance (but
without the tax benefits of marital
trusts, of course). Nonetheless, this is
a battle that those of us committed to
fighting for GLBT rights are willing
to tackle head-on. I have started a
group called Impact Houston (www.
impacthouston.wetpaint.com), which
will work in conjunction with the
nationwide efforts of Join the Impact ceremony with these words: the word “homosexual” even existed.
to hold bimonthly protests, reach out Out of the tangled world these two It is truly ironic then that
to the community to educate people on souls have found each other. They same-sex couples actually do have
the realities of how many rights we do have courted, laughed, cried, and the right to marry in the most literal
not have, and to build coalitions with grown from being alone to being and traditional sense by standing
other organizations in the community partners. Today they have publicly up in a church and exchanging
to work toward our common goal of declared that their souls share a vows, but what we do not have are
full equality. bond and their love has reached the legal rights and responsibilities
new depths. It is my privilege and which our government attaches to
Adam and Steve at the Altar honor to announce to all present that act. This is a strange paradox
As a caveat to the debate about that THEY ARE MARRIED! in a society which looks to religion
same-sex marriage, I would like to point Let all persons everywhere and in as its primary source of disapproval
out that gay people are getting married all times honor their partnership of gay marriage. Furthermore, this
every day in this country, in every and respect their home. Would reality turns the idea of a separation
state, and probably in just about every you seal your union with a kiss? between church and state on its head.
city. How is this possible? The answer After the ceremony, we sat Opponents of gay marriage
would surprise many people: Churches down to dinner, had our first dance as a often throw around the phrase
have opened the doors for same-sex married couple, shared a piece of cake, “redefining marriage.” They talk about
couples to marry. For example, my wife tossed matching bouquets, and headed “tradition” and “one man, one woman.”
and I were married here in Houston off to our hotel room. In most ways, However, it is vitally important to note
before we were married in California. as special as it was to us, our wedding that marriage today in the US is quite
We stood up in front of our friends day was not unlike the countless different than it was, say, in biblical
and families and exchanged vows in the weddings of people gay and straight times. We as a culture have “redefined”
presence of a minister. He closed the that have been performed since before marriage (Cont’d p. 54)

The California Supreme The Connecticut Supreme Court The first nationwide pro-
Mar. 11

Oct. 10

Nov. 15

Court requires the City rules that it is unconstitutional to test organized under Join
of San Francisco to deny same-sex couples the rights of the Impact is held. Over
cease performing same- marriage and orders the state to be- 700 people attend the
Photo by Amy Lanteigne

sex marriages. gin performing same-sex marriages. Houston rally.

2008
The California Supreme Proposition 8 in California
Nov. 4
May 15

Court rules that it is uncon- takes away the rights of same-

stitutional to deny same-sex sex couples to marry. Similar
couples the right to marry in measures are passed in Arizo-
In re Marriage Cases. na, Arkansas, and Florida.
 12 ARTICLES
Mihan Lee

V-Day: Until the Violence Stops

V
ictory, Valentine, and audience of 20,000. Nearly ten years from “roses” to “fish” to a “brand-new
Vagina. later, over 3700 V-Day benefits took morning.” One very short monologue
place in 58 countries, reaching an basically consists of a woman slowly
There are three V’s audience of millions. spelling out, repeating over and over,
invoked and celebrated Historically, the movement has and exuberantly reclaiming the word
by the V-Day movement: Victory over been organized around shock value— “cunt.”
violence against women, Valentine’s the sheer audacity of young women As a result of its audacity, the
Day and its association with powers who print and speak the word vagina movement has drawn criticism for
of love and healing, and most of publicly. Ensler’s play was advertised being overly graphic and exhibitionist.
all, Vaginas—the empowerment of as her daring, purposely incendiary Eve Ensler reports that the V-Day
women through the reclamation of exploration of “the last frontier, the movement has “an impossible time
their bodies and female sexuality. ultimate forbidden zone”—not only raising money from corporations”
The V-Day movement is best known in terms of exploring her anatomy, but because some companies refuse to
for its performances of “The Vagina also her female sexuality, desires, and associate with the word “vagina.”
Monologues,” a collection of short fears. One of the monologues in the Barbara Walters of The View has
pieces that address a broad spectrum play involves a woman demonstrating called the movement’s general attitude
of the female sexual experience; love, over twenty different kinds of moans “strident” and “embarrassing.” Socially
sex, menstruation, homosexuality, (including the “mountaintop moan,” the conservative groups like The American
heterosexuality, sexual harassment, date “doggy moan,” the “uninhibited militant Society for the Defense of Tradition,
rape, gang rape, domestic violence, and bisexual moan,” and the “surprise triple Family, and Property decried the
genital mutilation. orgasm moan”). Another part of the Monologues as “lewd” and “replete
The play, written by Eve play asks women to compare what with sexual encounters, lust, graphic
Ensler, began in 1998 as a collection their vaginas smell like—answers range descriptions of masturbation and lesbian
and transcription of behavior.” It urged
interviews with women parents and students
of various ages, races, to protest, resulting
and backgrounds. On in the Monologues
Valentine’s Day of that being banned at sixteen
year, the play premiered Catholic colleges.
in the Hammerstein However, rather
Ballroom — and the than being quieted,
movement was launched. movement participants
The very next year, celebrate their boldness
1999, the movement and ability to ignite
expanded to include controversy. Director of
many new initiatives, the Vagina Monologues
including the V-Day at Yale, Presca Ahn, has
College Campaign, said, “There’s no reason
which encourages women should feel
performances of the shame or anxiety about
Monologues by and their vaginas, or any parts
for college students on of their bodies; feeling
campuses across the comfortable with one’s
nation. In 1999, 65 physical self shouldn’t
Photo by Matt Taylor

schools accepted the be hard, but a wealth of

movement’s invitation cultural facts and social
to take part in the pressures make it hard.”
Campaign, bringing Ahn and her cast have
the Monologues to an actively and deliberately

pushed beyond the boundaries of the
“safe” in order to combat this culture of
shame, boldly staking women’s claims
to feel comfortable with and take pride
in their bodies.
Said performer Naomi Bland, “I
feel that sometimes things need to be
graphic in order to attract attention to
an issue or cause…I feel it’s justified and
necessary.” She added, “I do think the
shock value benefited the performance.
We raised issues that women and
definitely men rarely address.” If
anything, criticism of the movement
from social conservatives seems to have
simply spurred the movement’s members
to further acts of outrageousness: the
painting of bold, brightly colored
vaginas as a backdrop to performance
sets; the sale of vagina-shaped chocolate
lollipops; the creation of a huge mauve
“vagina cake” in London that no one
is allowed to cut, and that hundreds
of partygoers eat with their hands.
There is no question that the
movement has attracted the attention—
and, despite all the criticism, the
approval—of a broad base of women
and men. In fact, with the recruitment
of celebrity spokespeople like Rosario
Dawson and Jessica Alba, the movement
seems to be growing increasingly
high-profile and mainstream. But at
the same time, is there a limit to how
much the movement can accomplish
by “shaking things up”? Specifically,
what is the cost of “shaking things up”
in such a popularized, glamorized, and
ultimately Western-specific way—who
is celebrated, and who is marginalized?
Whose voices get lost within the wild
swirl of feather boas and mauve cake?
As the movement grows,
this difference between attracting
attention—or “raising awareness”—
and effecting practical, concrete change
is thrown into increasingly sharp relief.
From the outset, the V-Day movement
has been strongly committed to
achieving practical effects: proceeds
from performances always benefit
organizations that work to end violence
against women and offer shelter to the
ARTICLES
abused. The website proudly proclaims,
“94 cents of every dollar you give goes
straight to ending violence against
women and girls”—to organizations like
shelters, safe houses, and educational
programs around the world. Yet to some
observers, the movement seems to focus
disproportionately on “consciousness-
raising.” One audience member
commented, “It was a great show, and
very empowering… but I would have
liked to see more engagement with the
tough issues, the global issues, not just,
let’s-talk-about-our-feelings.” think the movement falls short when
Arising out of the “self-
awareness” trend set into motion by
the Monologues, My First Time does
for sex and both genders what the
Monologues did for body image and
women. My First Time, a play created
from 40,000 first sexual experience
stories sent into a blog during the same
year Ensler wrote the Monologues and
brought to off-Broadway production
just two years ago, is already surfacing
at college campuses, Rice University
being one of the first to put on the play
this year. Unlike Ensler’s work, My
First Time does not aim to be theater
with a specific social conscience, but
rather an embrace of the individual
and her or his trials with sexuality. The
growing popularity of the collective
navel-gazing nature of sexuality signals
a preference for an inward focus over an
outward attention to the problems that
effect the fringes of society. But is that
theater too powerful a venue to restrict
to realm of “feelings” and forgo the
chance to shine light on global issues?
Like My First Time, the
awareness-raising of the Monologues
tends to focus on Western-specific
issues, like body image and sex-
positivism, rather than raising and
addressing the realities relevant to
poor, minority, or Third World women.
Therefore, while the V-Day movement
may supply aid to these marginalized
groups, that aid is not generated or
provided in a context that gives their
stories equal standing. Ahn herself
expressed frustration with the fact that
13
such minority issues were relegated to
second-tier importance. She said, “A lot
of the ‘optional monologues’ [specified
by the V-day movement to college
groups putting on a performance] bring
in the voices of women of color, non-
American women, or underrepresented
groups like transgender women. While
I think that’s a good gesture, I feel
that it’s also an impossible one… it
really is tokenism, and not at all sound,
politically.”
Bland agreed, “I definitely
it comes to reaching Third World
women and women of color. Some
global goals [for the coming decade]
should definitely pertain to diversity—
a discussion of issues that pertain
to women of color and Third World
women specifically.” She added, “I
believe the movement would gain more
support if more collaboration with
other multicultural groups existed.”
Concrete and radical social
change has always been the ultimate
goal in mind for Ensler and the
thousands who have performed her
play. As the V-Day mission statement
reads: “When all women live in safety,
no longer fearing violence or the threat
of violence, then V-Day will be known
as Victory Over Violence Day.” In the
past decade, the V-Day movement has
clearly made huge strides to bringing
the issue of violence against women
into mainstream discourse in the West.
In the decade to come, a key goal for
the movement’s growth should be
to expand its focus, and to stimulate
discussion of women’s bodies and
sexuality in a global context. By doing
so, the movement will not only be made
relevant to a wider audience of women,
but will also better position itself to
bring about concrete, global effects—
asserting both symbolic and pragmatic
solidarity with women around the
world.
Reprinted with permission from author
and with added content from the editor.
 14 ARTICLES
The Serpent’s Gift Explained
Interview with Dr. Jeffrey J. Kripal by Klara Wojtkowska
I
nterview with Dr. Jeffrey J. Kripal, Chair of the
Department of Religious Studies at Rice University.
Excerpts in this interview are from his book, The
Serpent’s Gift: Gnostic Reflections on the Study of
Religion (2006).
Adam, Eve and the Serpent:
KW: In your last e-mail, you said we should talk about The
Serpent’s Gift.
JK: Yes. The reason that the book is called “The Serpent’s
Gift” is because the whole book is a kind of meditation on
the Adam and Eve story, a meditation that suggests that the
Photo by Will Fischer
story is not what people assume it’s about. If you read it very
carefully, it’s, on one level at least, about sexual differentiation
and sex. I mean, Adam is this human being, literally this
Earth Creature, that isn’t even male or female when the story
starts. It’s an androgyne.
KW: How can you tell that?
JK: It’s in the Hebrew. Adam means “earth creature.” The
English translation of “Adam” conceals this. Many early
rabbinic or Jewish commentators were very clear about the
androgynous nature of the Earth Creature. It’s some kind
of male-female double who is then split apart to form “man”
and “woman.” In other words, there’s no real female until
God splits her off from Adam, which means there is also no
real male either until that moment. At that point you have
what we today would call sexual differentiation. And then, of
course, there is the famous story about the fruit, which has
been read in a hundred ways. The first thing that happens
to the young couple when they eat the fruit – the very first
thing – is that they become aware of their genitals. Instantly.
And they become ashamed. Hence the very ancient and very
traditional reading that the fruit symbolizes sex, that the
young couple had sexual intercourse (other ancient stories
have Eve having sex with the serpent), and that somehow

sexual intercourse is linked to the awareness of mortality and
death. On one level at least, that’s what it’s about. The tragedy,
I think, one of the many tragedies of Western religion, is that
that gift of the serpent gets demonized in history. Sexuality
becomes conflated with death and, eventually, with sin. So,
for example, Augustine thought that “original sin” (another
later theological invention) was literally carried in the sperm.
Sin now was sex.
KW:  Yeah, that’s another interesting thing: why would that
happen?
JK: Because we’re naturally scared to death of our sexuality.
There’s no devil in the story. There’s no apple. There’s no Fall,
no original sin. None of that. If you read the story, you will
see that none of these things are really there. They are all
interpretations of the story that are imposed on it afterwards.
Taken in its own terms and context, the story is about a
snake, which is an ancient fertility symbol, giving some kind
of fruit to this beautiful young naked couple, who eat it and
… become aware of their genitals. It’s just so obviously about
sex!  And again, the sad part is that this then becomes a core
story about the Fall, that is, about humanity’s early rebellion
against God. Not that I think that this reading about sex
and death carries no truth at all. I think there are very deep
biological and psychological links between sexuality and
mortality. Obviously, biologically speaking, the reason we
have sex is because we die. Right?  If we didn’t die, what
would be the purpose of reproduction?  It wouldn’t exist.
And if we continued to reproduce and didn’t die, that would
be a problem too. Clearly, biologically speaking, sexuality and
mortality are two sides of the same coin. That’s how biology
works. And so the story, I think, is insightful on that level,
but the tragedy is that then there’s this conflation of sexuality
and sin in the Adam and Eve story.
So what I’m trying to do in The Serpent’s Gift is
reverse all of that and write against the tradition: “No,” I
say in effect, “the gift is a GIFT. Sex is good. Sex is divine.”
Not only is it good, it’s a form of knowledge that divinizes
us, that makes us “like God.” That anyway is exactly how
it’s portrayed in the story. So what I’m doing in the book is
writing about the study of religion as “the serpent’s gift.”  And
I’m promising people a certain erotic delight, even a certain
humble divinization, but I’m also warning them that, if they
eat this particular fruit of knowledge, it will almost certainly
exile them from their former religious notions, from their
literalizing naivete. So it’s this funny, paradoxical kind of gift
that is wonderful and exiling at the same time. But I think
that’s what we all go through when we grow up. You start
off as this child, and you hit puberty and you’re exiled at that
point. You can’t go back!  But that doesn’t mean puberty is
a bad thing. It just means that that’s the point at which you
separate from the family and the maternal womb and all
ARTICLES 15
those things that revolve around infancy and childhood. You
become your own self, your own authority.
KW: All these people got very upset that biologically
speaking, or the way we speak biologically, sex is to procreate.
That there is the sexual act, and everything that comes before
the sexual act we call foreplay – and that penetration and the
male orgasm is ultimately the point of sex. And that because
we can’t –
JK: We don’t even need a female orgasm for reproduction. Is
that what you’re getting at?
KW: Exactly. So … but it’s not really a question, it’s
more a discussion, because it goes hand in hand with this
misogynistic interpretation, or religion, where it would be
the male orgasm linked to procreation –
JK: But see, I think you’re onto something really profound
there. Because I think that this is why religious traditions and
cultures in general are terrified of masturbation, lesbianism
and homosexuality. Because none of those practices are
procreative, right?  It’s the use of human sexuality for just
pleasure, or love or relationships –it isn’t linked to procreation
in any way, and so it’s been traditionally conceived as bad or
sinful.
KW: So why are people afraid of it?
JK: Well, I think it’s probably something really ancient,
primordial even. I mean I’m guessing here, but at some point
in human cultural evolution, I think it was probably really
important that people really did have sex to reproduce, and
didn’t essentially waste biological energy. As in Genesis, you
reproduce and multiply – that was a pretty important thing
when you’re this little tribe in some harsh climate and you
really do need to reproduce a great deal when death rates in
infancy are fifty percent and most women are going to die
in childbirth at some point. If you’re living in that kind of
biological reality, for a small society to survive, it really does
have to be careful, I think. I’m guessing, though.
Jesus’s sexuality:
“It is the contemporary biblical critic Theodore
Jennings who has most effectively advanced the idea
that the gospels preserve multiple traces of a certain
dangerous memory, the memory of Jesus as a lover
of other men …
It is in this same homoerotic context that we
should perhaps read the Johannine [works related
to the Gospel of John] expression ‘the disciple
whom Jesus loved.’ The Greek expression, after all,
16 ARTICLES
carries with it some rather clear, if also somewhat
sublimated, erotic connotations. Foremost among
these are the Greek sexual conventions, based on
standard pederastic models, of the active older
‘lover’ (erastes) and the younger passive ‘beloved’
(eromenes), who is the feminized recipient of the
older male lover’s masculine advances. The Johannine
beloved disciple trope, in other words, recalls the
eromenos, or ‘beloved’ of Greek sexual conventions
and, in the process, suggests that Jesus was the older
erastes of the beloved disciple as younger eromenes.
This ‘open secret’ has been muted or missed,
if not actually censored, by a very traditional but
fantastically false assumption that the Greek noun
‘agape’ … connotes only a ‘pure’ or ‘spiritual’ love, as
opposed to the lustful meanings of the Greek eros
… Rather, nominal and verbal forms of agape are
consistently used both for sexual acts … and for the
passions of divine love for individual human beings
or the community of Israel. To assert, then, that
God’s agape is necessarily nonsexual, or that texts
about Jesus’s ‘beloved’ could have been meant only in
a ‘spiritual’ sense is patent philological nonsense.”(43-
44)
KW: In the first chapter of your book, you say that Jesus
might have been gay, or he might have not been gay, and
nobody really knows.
JK: Right, and isn’t that interesting? The argument is that
there are all of these memories in these texts, that portray a
homoerotic Jesus, and that there are these other texts that are
ancient as well that portray a hetero-erotic, a heterosexual
Jesus. And then, of course, there’s the orthodox tradition
which portrays him as virtually a-sexual, or non-sexual. So
you have this complete mess when it comes to deciding what
the man’s sexuality actually was. And the point is that you
can’t tell. And that, in itself, is extremely significant.
KW: In what way?
JK: Well, folks who want to use Jesus to advance some kind of
conservative political or ethical argument today really don’t
know what they’re talking about, that is, they don’t know
how ambiguous the texts actually are. Granted, you can go
into history and find just about any Jesus you want, but the
Jesus in the canonical gospels is extremely subversive when
it comes to any kind of purity code, and so my own feeling
is that whatever his sexuality was, it was almost certainly
subversive to whatever was religiously right or proper at the
time. I mean, they killed this man!  People forget this. He
upset so many people, so many pious and religious people,
that they killed him. This is not an individual who fits into
society or who was pious in any kind of religiously correct or
conservative way. This is a man who systematically violated
the purity codes and the religious laws of his own tradition.
He hung out with prostitutes. He had a beloved disciple
who was a man. There is no reliable evidence whatsoever
that he was married. He counseled his closest disciples to
castrate themselves. No, this is not a conservative individual,
a “family man.” This is a dangerous man. A religious and
social radical.
“After taking his clothes off (yes, he strips) and
tying a towel around his waist, Jesus does something
that only slaves and women did in his culture,
something that ‘real men’ never did: he washes
other peoples’ feet. More provocatively still, it is this
unmanly or womanly act, he teaches, that signals
both his own divinity and the way he wants his own
disciples to live. As Jennings has it, “Jesus’s ‘divine’
identity thus is expressed in his disregard for the most
intimately enforced institutions of worldly society:
gender role expectations … Dale Martin makes a
(similar) point: although ‘Jesus allows a woman to
wash his feet (and we biblical scholars – who know
our Hebrew – recognize the hint [foot=penis]), when
it is his turn, he takes his clothes off, wraps a towel
around his waist, and washes the feet of his male
disciples, again taking time out for a special seduction
of Peter.’  Modern readers, then, may be blind to the
 gendered and sexual meanings of such acts, but the
original participants certainly were not, nor are our
contemporary Gnostic scholars.” (45-46)
“One thing seems certain and beyond dispute,
however: the eroticism of early Christian literature,
of which the New Testament writings are only the
tip of the proverbial iceberg, is both immensely rich
and richly complicated. Clearly, different early, very
early, Christian communities remembered and/or
imagined a Jesus in different erotic ways. Some
appear to have advanced a homoerotic Jesus who
loved men, others a heteroerotic Jesus who loved and
kissed Mary Magdalene in special ways, others an
entirely sexless Christ who avoided real sex from the
very beginning, that is, from his ‘virginal’ conception
and birth. John, Mary Magdalene, Peter, James,
Paul – they and their communities all jockeyed for
position, authority and power in those early years.
They all fought for Jesus’s real and imagined love.”
(58)
KW: Are you advancing such ideas just as ideas, or are you
saying, “I know this”?

JK: I am not offering pat answers here or certainty. I am
offering provocations. And I am well aware that these are
dangerous truths in most previous periods and even today in
most cultures. Even today they’re risky, though not as risky,
because we live in a different kind of society, and we have
large institutions like colleges and universities and seminaries
where people are actually encouraged to say what they think,
regardless of how uncomfortable it makes people feel. That’s
the job of an intellectual – to speak the truth as one sees
it, without pretending that you have some access to total or
complete knowledge. Our job is not to be infallible. Our job
is to ask the difficult questions that no one else is asking. But
the premise, at least, is very simple. It’s the same premise
that undergirds any open liberal society. If people who are
trained intellectuals speak what they think the truth is likely
to be, then there can be these really interesting discussions
and debates, and the ball will get advanced over the years and
generations. But if people can’t say what they think, the ball
goes nowhere. That’s the whole point of censorship and “being
offended.” To stop the ball. To shut down the discussion. I
know this is a long way from answering your question – I
don’t think these ideas would play well, publicly, but for me
this is no measure of their truth. Quite the contrary, I think
the truth is often incompatible with what the public thinks,
especially when it comes to religion. We hold a secret, not a
popular opinion poll.
KW: I think one problem is our tendency towards
sensationalist culture now, in that you cited how would CNN
do it – “Was Jesus Gay?”
JK: It’s a sound-bite. That’s what you can do on CNN
– sound-bites, which is to say not much. But you can do
a lot in a book, and thoughtful people can pick it up, and
they can really have their minds opened. And this is where
people sometimes make fun of academics and the whole
“ivory tower” thing. But that ivory tower is pretty important
for precisely this reason. These are really difficult ideas, and
they need to be protected, nurtured, and advanced in an
environment where people feel safe doing that. And that’s
what the ivory tower is largely about. When you teach a
class, you’re working with young people for four months in
what amounts to a safe space. It’s not always safe out there,
emotionally now, or socially, but it’s safe in the classroom, and
it’s safe opening the book in your own private thoughts. At
its best, that is what a great research university should be all
about—creating a safe space for difficult, liberating ideas.
The open mindedness of higher education:
KW:  So have these kinds of theses about Jesus’s sexuality
had any effect on contemporary religious thought – I mean,
yes, they’ve had an effect on contemporary religious thought
ARTICLES 17
– but have they had an effect on the religions themselves?
JK: I think that it’s difficult. I’m certainly not alone in these
thoughts. In the essay you’re referring to, I cite a couple dozen
other scholars who came to virtually identical conclusions,
so there’s a fairly strong consensus among a certain kind
of scholarship on this. But it doesn’t translate well into
the pews. And I’m not sure how it would work on CNN.
How would it work in a presidential election?  I don’t think
it would work very well. I think any candidate who got up
and talked about the possible homosexuality of Jesus would
lose the election. And I think any religious leader who got
up and said the same thing would likely get kicked out of
his or her religious community. Unless it was a remarkably
liberal community, which by the way are inevitably small,
even tiny. So I think that you have to distinguish between
what the likely historical truth is, and what is possible in a
particular social moment, or cultural moment. And so this is
the reason I’m really interested in esotericism, that is, in the
whole phenomenon of “secrecy” in religion and scholarship.
I think people have known these things for a long, long time,
but that they’ve kept them secret because they’ve lived in
societies that would persecute, if not actually kill them for
saying these things.
Man’s relation to the divine in the Catholic Church:
KW: So, why is it that if we can go back, reach back, and come
up with really any sort of Jesus that we want – and we have
these three really great options: homoerotic, heterosexual or
celibate – why is it that celibacy survived?  Why is it that
one?
JK: That’s a really good question. My broader work concerns
what happens in the history of religion in general. What one
finds, of course, is that it’s the men who control these traditions.
Not the women. Historically, women have usually been
prevented from even learning the reading and interpretive
skills that would give them access to the scriptures, and thus
to religious authority. That’s why most religious traditions are
essentially male-oriented, if not actually misogynist.
The question, then, arises, though: What sorts of men
are attracted to the religious life?  There is a huge variety and
spectrum here, of course, but one of my conclusions is that,
generally speaking, a kind of sublimated male homoeroticism
leads to orthodoxy, whereas male heterosexuality, whether
symbolized or acted on, inevitably leads to heterodoxy,
if not actual heresy. Let me explain this. Take the case of
Roman Catholicism. If you’re a man, and you happen to
be gay, you can sublimate these energies, that is, not act on
them but turn them inwards and upwards toward cultural
and religious ends. If this sublimation is successful, you can
have a very orthodox, deeply spiritual life in which you love
18 ARTICLES
a beautiful male deity, that is, Christ. You can even consume
his body and his fluids every day. You can have this amazingly
powerful, basically homoerotic relationship to the divine.
[Dr. Kripal is referring to the priests within the Roman
Catholic Church.]  And that’s entirely orthodox, as long as
you don’t act on it genitally, physically. If you’re a straight
guy, however, you, of course, have no such options. There is
no female divinity in Roman Catholicism, or in Western
monotheism in general for that matter, with whom one can
have an erotic-spiritual relationship. To
conceive of the spiritual life erotically and
heterosexually here is to guarantee that it
will be deemed heretical, and that it will
be rejected by the larger tradition. I can’t
think of a single counter-example. Can
you?
KW: But what about Mary?  what you wrote about how
JK: In the context of Catholic doctrine
and piety, she’s your mother, and she’s also
the patron of celibacy. And she’s a virgin.
So, no, there’s no female divinity with
whom one can have an erotic spiritual
relationship in Catholicism. If you’re
heterosexually oriented, basically what
happens is you’re expelled from the core of
the tradition, and it’ll bless you as an active
man in society and everything, but it will
not tolerate you in the core of the tradition.
Because God is male, and you can’t act spiritually on your
male heterosexuality in that context. You can’t even sublimate
your heterosexuality there. It just doesn’t make any sense. But
if you’re a man and you’re gay and you can sublimate it, then
it all can become orthodox, and it’s perfectly fine. And it can
be quite profound and very beautiful.
So to answer your question, the reason that happens
is because God is male in Western religion. And males control
the religious tradition. So, over the years and decades and
centuries, what happens, statistically we might say, is that the
straight males fall out of the system and they go into society
and reproduce, whereas the gay males stay in the system and
learn to sublimate their sexualities, because they don’t have a
place in society or out of the closet in religion anyway, that
is, as active homosexual men. So they learn to sublimate, and
they help create this homoerotic male tradition.
Possession as expression of sexual abuse:
“… Jesus’s healing ministry can be read fruitfully
with the insights of anthropological research on
possession cults in colonial peasant societies as a
ministry of trance that sought to heal the possessed
… Put simply, ‘The family’ and particularly ‘the father’
function in the possession and healing scenes and in
some of Jesus’s core teachings as social fictions that are
essentially abusive … It is also a kind of convenient
lie. There are in fact no objectively real ‘demons’
here, just abusive men and some fantastically furious
women and children with no other culturally available
means to express themselves... Davies’s conclusion is
both simple and powerful: ‘Jesus’s clientele who came
(or were brought) for
exorcism were probably,
more than anything else,
victims of abusive family
relationships.’” (35-37)
KW: What was extremely
interesting to me was
possession {by demons,
devils, evil spirits} was a way
of expressing sexual abuse. I
mean, how did you come to
that?  Or, the people who you
wrote about – how did they
come to that?
JK: Well, it’s a common thesis,
particularly among scholars
who are psychoanalytically
inclined, that possession is
rooted in some former abuse and trauma, and that it’s a way of
externalizing it. So in cultures where a daughter or a wife, for
example, is not allowed to swear at the husband or the father,
she will be allowed to be possessed and have the devil say all
sorts of horrible things to the patriarch of the family. It’s the
old “the devil made me do it” strategy. It’s also probably why
a lot of lore around witchcraft and demonic possession are
so sexualized. It’s because people who are suffering are those
who have been sexually abused, and people who have been
sexually abused express themselves in hyper-sexual (and
hyper-religious) ways. Historically, I think, they often frame
it in terms of possession.
KW: So when Jesus was healing or casting out demons –
or really when anyone casts out these demons – from that
standpoint, how does one communicate with that abused
self?
JK: Well, I think in those cases you always communicate the
abused self through the language the culture gives you. So, if
you’re living in first century Palestine, and you’re a charismatic
healer, and people think you’re possessed by a divine spirit,
then you can actually work with people and throw out their

demons. It’s a kind of first-century psychotherapy. But if you
live in 20th or 21st century America, you go see a therapist,
or you go see an analyst. I’m not sure what it would mean
if somebody possessed by demons in first-century Palestine
started to theorize about sexual abuse. Probably, they wouldn’t
get a voice in the culture, and there wouldn’t be any way to
make that have any sense. It’s too abstract.
KW: There wasn’t really a language for it, was there?
JK: No. Not until the 19th and 20th centuries. That’s the
genius of Freud and those who followed him. They forged a
language in which we could talk about sexuality in an abstract
analytic way. They fashioned a whole set of disciplines that
involve talking about sexuality, being critical of it, trying to
step back, and trying to be much more tolerant of it. Whereas
before that, there were lots of languages that were sexual,
of course, but there really wasn’t any language of sexuality
per se. Sexuality did not have its own discipline, its own
department or program, as it were. Historically speaking, the
language was the language of law, purity, and pollution. It
was about whom you can have sex with, and when, and for
what reasons. It had to do with social status. It had to do
with sexual property (i.e., wives and children), with lineage,
inheritance, social structure, and social stability. Most of all,
it had to do with social hierarchy and boundaries. It was
all about the very opposite of what we call democracy, social
justice, and human rights.
And that’s where a lot of my work comes from.
From this shared academic and ethical way of talking and
thinking about sexuality, sexual orientation, and gender in
the abstract, but also openly and honestly, without shame or
fear. I think the reason that work like this has a kind of draw
for people, or a kind of shock value, is that, of course, all
those earlier religious worlds, not just early Christianity, but
other religions as well, lacked this kind of speaking, this kind
of thinking. So all that stuff is going on, but it’s all implicit.
And so when you take this modern theoretical language, like
psychoanalysis or gender theory or queer theology, and you
apply it, Boom! The stuff starts popping everywhere. Because
it’s THERE. It’s just not explicit until you put on the right
set of glasses. And then it’s obvious. It’s like, “Oh my God,
why didn’t I see that? Then you can never again not see it.
You’ve bitten the serpent’s gift, and you can’t go back to the
garden of religious naivete and sexual ignorance.
Priests in the Catholic Church:
JK: But you know, let me flip it for you. One of the things
people don’t understand about celibacy is how incredibly
attractive it was, and still is, to gay men and women. If you
think about it, if you’re living in the 3rd or 4th century, and
you’re a woman, you are likely going to be married to a man
ARTICLES 19
whom you don’t know or don’t love. You’re probably going
to be 14, 15, 16, 17. You’re probably going to be pregnant
for most of the rest of your life. You’re going to lose half
your children, and there is a fairly good chance you will
die at some point in childbirth. You’re not going to get an
education. And you’re not going to have a profession. That’s
not a terribly promising future. But, if you become a celibate
nun, all of a sudden there are no men around (none at least
having sex with you), there’s no pregnancy, you will get a
really good education, and you will be looked up to by society.
You can see why throughout much of European history, so
many women wanted to be nuns. It was a very good deal.
And you can see why so many gay men would’ve
wanted to be priests or monks. Because there’s no place
in society for them where they can join this same-sex
community and live with other men. That makes perfect
sense. That’s not to say there were no straight priests – of
course, there were.  But statistically, I’m just trying to explain
what the patterns were and what it would’ve likely have been.
And, of course, what changed all of this was a number of
things, including modern medicine and the pill, as well as
the decline of religious authority in society. And these are
some of the major reasons that there are virtually no nuns
left, and precious few celibate priests, in Western societies.
Basically, there are just way fewer reasons.
KW: What about the shortage of priests?
JK: Well, what happened after Vatican II was thousands and
thousands of priests left … to do what?  To get married.
KW: Left the Catholic Church?
JK: Yes. There were thousands of priests who left the
priesthood after Vatican II, which took place from 1962 to
1965. This is when the church finally attempted to embrace
the modern world instead of running away from it or simply
condemning it. The church basically liberalized, and in
the late sixties then, thousands and thousands of priests in
America left the priesthood.
KW: Why?
JK: For lots of reasons, but often to get married.
KW: But why then?
JK: Because it was a liberalizing moment in the church and
there were a lot of things going on … but my point is, if
most of the priests left to get married, what this, of course,
means is that the straight guys left. So you can see there’s a
kind of sexualization of the church going on through this
liberalization process. Before there were all sorts of reason
20 ARTICLES
for men, straight or gay, to be priests. Being a priest carried
tremendous cultural prestige – it was like going to Harvard.
But after Vatican II, there’s very little cultural prestige, and so
there’s very little reason to stay a priest, particularly if you’re
straight and you want to love a woman and have a family.
Why do this anymore?
KW:  Why do you think that the Church still doesn’t allow
women priests?
JK: This is what I think: they do not allow women priests,
and they do not allow married straight priests either. My
suggestion is that they deny both for the same unspoken,
maybe even unconscious, reason: either one of these sorts
of people would mess up the male homoerotic structure of
the church. The whole system is based on this sublimated
male homoeroticism. If you let women in there, that would
mess it all up. And if you let straight, sexually active guys in
there, that’ll mess it all up. In my opinion, the liturgy, the
language, the vestments, just about everything, is a product
of this sublimated male homoeroticism.
Women in Christianity:
KW: You mentioned in your article on sexuality that research
has shown that religious traditions that have a divine feminine
don’t have a better situation for women. In fact, they usually
have a worse situation for women. It’s kind of like it’s bad if
there isn’t, it’s bad if there is. It represses either way.
JK: Right. And that’s because these traditions have been
created and controlled by men, not women. So can a religious
tradition be sexually healthy today by extracting itself from
these older traditional values that in the light of things like
psychoanalysis, feminism, civil liberties, and modern biology
we just see as wrong? So the issue for me isn’t idealizing
one religion over another. It’s not as if there’s a traditional
religious answer here for sexuality. There’s not. Almost all the
religions are equally bad when it comes to honest questions
about sexuality and gender. It’s really quite abysmal, to be
quite frank.
The question for me, then, is how do we today reform
our own religious traditions in light of what we know now.
They simply didn’t know these things 2,000 years ago, or
1,400 years ago, really any time before the nineteenth century.
They knew nothing about genetics. They knew nothing about
embryology. They knew nothing about human sexuality and
how it works chemically and hormonally. Nothing. So why
take these traditions that were formed in cultures that were
largely ignorant and make them the standard bearer for what
we should be doing or feeling today? It makes no sense to
me. But this is exactly what you see conservative religious
groups trying to do.
The positive side here—I don’t want to paint too
dark of a picture—the positive side is that most religious
traditions have ways of reforming themselves. They have
commentarial traditions. They have religious specialists who
can come up with new ways of thinking about the tradition.
And you’re seeing that. You’re seeing a bit of that in our own
culture right now. And so whereas the Christian church
split in the 19th century on the issue of slavery, now they’re
splitting on the issue of homosexuality. They’re doing it all
over again, as if we didn’t learn anything from the civil rights
movement and our history of racism. It’s sad. It’s really, really
sad. And the irony is that the set of texts that were used in the
19th century to justify enslaving and torturing black people
was, of course, the Bible. That’s where you went to justify
these horrible criminal acts. Now, where do you go to justify
discrimination against gay and lesbian people?  You go to
the Bible. It’s the same strategies all over again. Even though
there’s virtually nothing in the Bible on homosexuality.
KW: Yeah, you take quotes out of context …
JK: There’s only a handful of quotes on anything even
approaching what we call “homosexuality,” and even these
aren’t really on a sexual orientation but on specific sexual acts.
There may be six or seven lines in the whole thing. There are
probably more lines about not eating shellfish or pork and
not touching an animal or human corpse than there are about
homosexual acts. Well you know people go to Red Lobster
and play football (which involves a whole lot of touching a
dead pig-skin). So really, what are we doing here?
KW: I was just thinking back to a major complaint or issue
that a lot of Protestants have with the Catholic Church,
which is that a lot of Catholics ‘worship’ Mary, that she is in
a deified position.
JK: I know they are not supposed to, officially, theologically,
but I think they probably do, and I think that’s just fine. I
mean, people need a feminine divine presence too. Otherwise,
God is just too darn male. There’s just nothing feminine
in the tradition. Human beings are male and female (and
transgendered, and bisexual, and . . . ). They’re paternal and
maternal. They need a mother. They need a father. They need
the feminine, as it were, and the Virgin provides a little bit of
that, but not enough, not really enough. It’s not very accurate
or healthy either, I mean, how on earth can you be a mother
and a virgin?  What kind of a model is that? I think that
kind of doctrine leads to a great deal of suffering.
“It is certainly true that religions consistently
sexualize their heresies as rhetorical ways of stirring
up fear and dismissing their religious competitors as
perverts: from the early (Cont’d p. 55)

MoSex
S
nuggled cozily between other buildings on the
corner of 27th St. and 5th Ave. of New York City,
the Museum of Sex hardly catches the eye of
passing pedestrians. It lacks the architectural
splendor of the Met or the futuristic silhouette of
the Rose Center at the Museum of Natural History. Do not
let that humble façade deceive you though. Three galleries, a
gift shop full of “sexy” memorabilia and the excitment of the
unexpected attract significant crowds each day.
The Museum of Sex first opened its doors to the
public on October 5th, 2002. Founded by Daniel Gluck, it
was meant to explore “the history, evolution and cultural
significance of human sexuality.” An important aspect of the
endeavor was of course censorship. As stated on the museum’s
website, the goal was to encourage “open discourse” and allow
the public to experience “the best in current scholarship
unhindered by self-censorship.” Six years later this goal is
still alive in the provocative exhibits, daring lecture series and
an unusual gift shop.
So what can you expect to find at the MoSex?
One of the first things you’ll encounter upon entrance to
MoSex is the gift shop. Now, this isn’t just your conventional
museum gift shop with themed books, posters, t-shirts, etc.
You’ll find much more than a Bettie Page pinup or a copy of
the Kamasutra on these shelves. So do not be surprised if you
stumble upon a cabinet full of vibrators right across from a
glass display of pocket vaginas, or jars filled with condoms
packed into lollipop wrappers or key chains. And the gift
shop is just the beginning…
As you enter the galleries you transition from the
loud, excited buzz of the lobby to a more subdued buzz of
intellectual curiosity. The first gallery contains seasonal
exhibitions, which change every few months. Past exhibits
include the acclaimed “NYC Sex: How New York City
Transformed Sex in America,” “Sex Among the Lotus:
2500 Years of Chinese Erotic Obsession,” “Sex Machines,”
“Disability and Sexuality: Intimate Encounters,” “Kink:
Geography of Erotic Imagination” and many more. All
exhibits employ a wide range of media: from photographs,
paintings, and sculptures to actual sex toys/machines,
bondage equipment and pornographic cinema.
The current exhibit is titled “The Sex Lives of
Animals,” on view until spring 2009, and explores a variety of
sexual behaviors observed in the animal kingdom. It contains
extensive and very insightful captions supplementing each
photograph, video and sculpture. The premise of the exhibit
is to explore sex beyond its reproductive purposes. A range
of sexual practices is examined, with cuddling, masturbation,
mutual stimulation, group sex, polygamy and necrophilia
ARTICLES 21
Katherin Sudol
among others. For instance, one video displays female Bonobo
monkeys engaging in genito-genital rubbing, which involves
heterosexual female monkeys rubbing their genitals together
as means of tension reduction and reconciliation. There is also
a significant emphasis on homosexual and bisexual relations
and practices among species. The exhibit portrays animal sex
lives as much more than a Darwinian means of passing on
genes. It focuses on the pleasure-seeking and companionate
aspects of animal sex, things often overlooked when thinking
of the sex lives of animals.
We move on from the first exhibit, climbing a cozy
staircase to the second story, which currently holds the visual
exhibit “Action: Sex and the Moving Image.” This exhibit
is a virtual journey through time, from the very beginnings
of sexual imagery in cinematography, through the first
explicitly pornographic movies, to porn as we know it today.
Lined with screens, projectors and screening booths, the
exhibit is meant to show the chronological development of
sex and its impact on film, television and advertising. The
sexual imagery ranges from the subtle metaphors of Dracula
(1931), through the more explicit Deep Throat (1972) and
Debbie Does Dallas (1978), to contemporary hits like One
Night in Paris (2004). The exhibit also explores issues such as
race and sexuality, and how they shaped the development of
sex on screen. Overall the gallery is an enlightening overview
of how far we have come in the last century in exploring and
embracing our sexual nature.
Leaving the movie room, we enter the museum’s final
gallery, which currently holds the exhibit “Spotlight on the
permanent collection.” This collection explores eight themes:
“sex education, mapping sex in America, sex in art, law and
public morality, sex in advertising, sex in technology, sex
and entertainment, and the significance of the Museum of
Sex in New York City.” The themes are represented through
books, photography, art (Manga), cinema (Anime), and
sculpture (“The Sex Lives of Robots” by Michael Sullivan).
The uninitiated and connoisseur alike will delight in seeing
the variety of devices, many registered with the U.S. Patent
Office, aimed at enhancing sexual pleasure. Also here, you
can see the famous “Real Doll,” a life-size sex doll with a
PVC skeleton and silicone flesh.
So, if you ever find yourself in New York City with
some time to spare, put MoSex on your list of destinations.
The jewels in New York’s crown of museums - the Met, the
MOMA, the Guggenheim Museum - may shine bright and
attract hoards of tourists, but for a real gem with exhibits you
can really engage in, make sure to head to MoSex.
 22 ARTICLES
Christine Gerbode

Pure and Not So Simple

I
n a culture in which sexuality casually saturates so Often times the Balls are extravagant events. Wilson’s
much of our daily life, where political wars are fought speaks of his own daughter’s Ball: “I believe the feminine
over sex education and LGBT rights, the support thrives in beauty, which is one of the reasons to host this
of abstinence as a lifestyle has become increasingly event at a five star hotel. This event says to them that they
stigmatized, in the same way that support of casual sex are worth an investment of time and resources.” The Wilson’s
has been stigmatized by another camp. To many Americans website, Generations of Light, says that “because we cherish
of newer generations, purity balls, large events at which a our daughters as regal princesses—for 1 Peter 3:4 says they
father vows to protect his daughter’s purity, may seem are ‘precious in the sight of God’—we want to treat them as
archaic at best; at worst, an infringement upon a woman’s royalty.”
autonomy. While the pledge and some symbols used in the
But Randy Wilson, the creator of the Father Daughter ceremony relate specifically to Christianity, Wilson explained
Purity Ball, quotes Anaïs Nin (incidentally, one of the first that the focus is on building healthy familial relationships.
writers of female “Certainly our faith is
erotica) to counter seen in [the Ball], but
this evaluation: “We it was not designed
don’t see things as as a religious event;
they are, we see them rather, a fatherhood
as we are.” There event. We call all
is a blurred line, a fathers to it. It is our
continuous spectrum, event and there are
between judgment components of our
and prejudice, and faith in it, but there
anything taken out is no proselytizing.”
of context is an easy What is “purity,”
target for those who in this case? Wilson
choose not to see gives a definition far
what something broader in scope than
means through merely abstinence.
another’s eyes. “Purity defines the
The Ball whole person, body,
is centered on a mind, our emotional
ceremony in which well being and soul.
fathers sign a vow to Our sexualized
lead lives of integrity culture seeks to
as a model for their isolate that sexuality
daughter, as well as to serve as her “authority and protection and define the person as such. This is dangerous-- it exploits
in the area of purity” as she becomes a young woman. our daughters and wrongly assigns a lack of value to those
Wilson and his wife began hosting the annual ball who don’t fit the cultural mold for beauty.” While the girls
in Colorado Springs in 1998 when their oldest daughter was participating in the annual ball in Colorado Springs do not
13. In an emailed interview with Open, he writes, “We were explicitly pledge abstinence until marriage, many girls do at
inspired to create these events by a sense of the importance similar events across the country, and it is understood to be
of speaking to our children-- who we saw them to be, and an important part of leading a “pure” life.
who we saw they could potentially become. The idea was to Purity Balls are also held for boys. A main purpose
Photo by Rachel Solnick

grow with the needs of our children as they moved from
childhood into their teen years. We felt the father-daughter
relationship was key to the success of our daughters as they
stepped into their adult years.” Recent statistics do show a
correlation between strong father-daughter relationships
and success in academics and other areas.
of the ceremony is to instill in young men a responsibility
to treat women with respect. In addition to pure behavior,
Wilson brings up the issue of exposure and how to remain
faithful to that purity. In the face of a sometimes lewd reality,
the men’s Ball seems catered toward grooming men to see
clear-cut but respectful gender roles. Wilson encourages

young men to “protect the feminine around them by treating
them with respect in conversation and they way they look
at them…[For example,] pornography is devastating to
both men and women. It is devaluing and exploitative and it
establishes a false truth for men about what beauty truly is.”
A commitment to abstinence and purity, then,
does not stem from a view of sexuality as wrong or sinful;
on the contrary, the Wilsons believe that abstinence until
marriage heightens a beautiful experience, in that it frees a
couple from making comparisons to past sexual encounters.
Wilson believes that “many performance issues are due to
experiencing multiple partners.”
His third daughter, Jordyn (a current college student),
touched on the subject as well: “My two older sisters are
both married now and they both have expressed to me how
incredible it is to be able to give everything that they have
saved to one man--the man they have committed to love,
honor and cherish for the rest of their lives... I want to be a
whole person going into marriage with everything to offer
my husband for the first time in covenant marriage.” the full story. When I began to examine this movement, I
Wilson says that the concept began to spread
without any sort of marketing, and indeed, without his
knowledge. “We were contacted by O Magazine in 2006.
Their reporter alerted us to the growth that was occurring
across the country. We had no idea. We were just minding
our own business in Colorado Springs hosting the Ball each
year. People had visited and inquired as to how to host a
ball. We gave answers, and unbeknownst to us, it multiplied.
...The popularity of the event is indicative of the need our
culture has for order in families and relationships.”
Such an event, clearly, is not for everyone. Critics,
while often supportive of an event designed to encourage
father-daughter bonding in and of
itself, question the linking of such
an experience to a focus on the
daughter’s sexuality. Statistics also
deeply question the effectiveness of
teen abstinence pledges, though few
(if any) studies have been done with
respect to the impact specifically of
purity balls within the communities
that put them on.
According to Wilson,
however, the results are visible.
“We have seen families and
marriages restored and relationships
strengthened. The Ball gives men a
ARTICLES 23
Jordyn shared the same sentiment, reflecting upon
her own experience with the event. “I was greatly impacted
by the fact that my dad chose to invest in an event like this
just to show me how much he values and loves me and wants
to be there to launch me into life and relationships. There are
no words to describe how cherished and valued I felt that
night.”
“I am not judging anyone for choosing to live
differently than this,” she continued, when asked about what
her peers thought of her participation in the Ball. “I have just
seen the dramatic difference between purity and promiscuity
and I have found that I do not want that kind of lifestyle
for myself... I have known girls who struggle with [sexual]
pressures and what I try and express to them is that they
are too valuable to be disposable!...I have loved being a part
of this incredible event and it has only strengthened and
inspired me in my choice.”
We see things as we are-- but what Anaïs Nin
understood is that what we make of the world is not always
wasn’t certain I could write about it politely; after looking
deeper, I find myself wondering if I have managed to
adequately convey the respect that I feel is due. In a culture
that, for all of our purported open-mindedness, loves
polarizing our options, we forget that there is more than
one perspective with something to offer. At the heart of this
event is a universal question, what Wilson calls the “need our
culture has for order in family and relationships.” The purity
ball, for some, is a beautiful answer.
Photo by Rachel Solnick

model of what it looks like to engage

their daughters in a meaningful,
healthy relationship, and conveys
the importance of positive, affirming
words spoken from the father to the
daughter.”
 24 ARTICLES
Zeno Yeates

The Evolution and Future of Contraception

H
istory has shown that which inhibits normal ovarian activity, highly acidic, spermicidal concoctions.
human insight and was one of the most important means Soft wool was soaked in these mixtures
behavioral patterns of limiting fertility following delivery. and placed in the cervix. The first oral
are largely a product Barrier methods came into practice soon contraception consisted of potions
of trial and error afterwards, as documented by the Kahun made from plants and bark. Likewise,
learning. Accordingly, the development Papyrus (1850 BC) that describes a Hippocrates described the use of wild
of contraception has followed a tortuous pessary of crocodile dung and fermented carrot as both an oral contraceptive and
path of mistake and abortifacient. In addition
reapplication before to using plant extracts,
arriving at the sexual humans have consumed
revolution with the other substances thought
development of more to be contraceptive, often
effective and easily with toxic or fatal results.
administrated means of In the Middle Ages,
birth control in the mid- women often died from
20th century. However, lead, arsenic, and mercury
the human need for more poisoning after drinking
effective contraceptive these agents for their
methods surpasses the supposed contraceptive
aspiration for total sexual effect. As recently as the
control. The population nineteenth century, women
explosion witnessed in the in Canada brewed dried
past century represents an beaver testicle in alcohol
unsustainable trend that to create a contraceptive
will inevitably be curtailed potion. However, not all
by either prophylactic methods were allopathic,
methods or Malthusian as exotic dances, charms,
means. Despite the and incantations were
stagnating research and frequently employed.
development in this area For centuries, it
over the past three decades, was a common practice for
numerous innovations lie women to position lemon
on the horizon that may halves over the cervix
constitute milestones in – a crude barrier method
the age-old struggle for that also created an acidic
birth control shifting environment. Inventors
societal norms as similar developed and patented a
developments have for variety of barrier methods
many past generations. in the 19th century, and
Given man’s desire early contraceptive
to limit family size, the sponges appeared during
link between the emission the beginning of that
of semen and conception century. Intravaginal
Photo by Taylor Johnson

was an early discovery. plugs made of wood and

In this regard, the most primitive
approaches to contraception most likely
included abstinence and withdrawal
(Coitus interruptus, first mentioned in the
book of Genesis), while breast-feeding,
bread dough in addition to vaginal plugs
made of honey, gum, and acacia tree bark.
Sonarus of Ephesus of ancient Rome
(circa 2nd century AD) provides detailed
instructions for mixing fruits and nuts into
other materials also emerged during
the 1800s, as did a variety of pessaries,
including one that contained quinine (an
antimalarial agent used in tonic water)
that was used in England until the 1940s.

Other nineteenth century contraceptives
included syringes used to inject alum
or zinc sulfate solutions into the vagina
immediately following ejaculation.
Cervical caps and diaphragms also
appeared during the 1860s, and although
the method was never widely practiced
in the United States, it had become the
most frequently prescribed contraceptive
in England by 1930. The first published
account of diaphragm use appeared in
the 1880s, and diaphragm use increased
in the US during the first part of the
20th century. Diaphragm popularity only
began to wane with the introduction
of oral contraceptives (OCs) and the
intrauterine device (IUDs) in 1960.
Researchers began experimenting with
chemical inhibitors of sperm in the
1800s. By 1950, more than 90 spermicidal
products were commercially available.
Until the second half of the 20th
century, the only other artificial method of
contraception was the intrauterine device.
It was first developed in 1909 in Germany
from loops of silk-worm gut, later from
silver–copper alloys and eventually from
plastic. The modern IUD appeared in
1969 when copper was added to the
plastic frame, improving contraceptive
efficacy and allowing the size of the
device to be reduced. IUDs fell into
disrepute in the mid-70s when a device
known as the Dalkon Shield was shown
to be associated with pelvic infection and
infertility. Nevertheless the IUD is one
of the most commonly used methods of
contraception in the world, attributed
mainly to its widespread use in China.
The advent of the modern
condom can be traced back to ancient
Egypt, where they were fashioned out of
animal intestinal membranes. Protection
against disease was the goal of these early
devices, which eventually evolved into
linen condoms during the 16th century.
Some historians trace the origin of the
word “condom” to a 17th century physician
with the same name. Doctor Condom is
believed to have served the playboy king,
Charles II, who often grumbled about the
sheer number of his illegitimate children.
Cloth, linen, and animal membrane
ARTICLES
condoms were all used to varying degrees
during the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries. The vulcanization of rubber in
1844 lead to the development of rubber
condoms by 1850. The development
of liquid latex coupled with modern
manufacturing methods helped make
condoms durable and inexpensive during
the twentieth century. Finally, condom
usage increased dramatically during the
1980s and 1990s with the increasing
prevalence of AIDS.
The oral contraceptive pill was
first marketed in 1960, and heralded a
revolution in contraception and arguably
laid the foundations for women’s sexual
liberation. Perhaps the most widely
researched drug in the history of
therapeutics, the pill has been repeatedly
shown to be safe and effective. It has been,
and remains, a favorite subject of media
hype, and despite its safety record, the
majority of women still perceive the pill
as potentially dangerous. In actuality, it is
statistically much safer than pregnancy.
New developments following
the introduction of the pill have been
largely limited to toying with the
chemical composition and the routes of
administration of synthesized hormones.
The knowledge that would allow a more
exciting approach to new contraceptives
does exist but is hampered by financial,
political, and religious issues. Although
the pharmaceutical industry still seems
fixated on altering the dose and type
of steroids, research into hormonal
contraception in the last twenty years
has shifted to the development of new
delivery systems. Avoiding the oral route,
the pill, has the theoretical benefit of
bypassing metabolism through the liver
while providing constant rates of steroid
release. It also has the very real benefits
of reducing or eliminating the need for
compliance in taking the pill. Hence,
injectable progestogens were approved
in some countries in the early 1980s,
and combined injectables (containing
both estrogen and progestogen) are
now widely used in the United States.
Also included in the list of new delivery
systems is the contraceptive vaginal ring
25
(e.g. NuvaRing), which is worn in the
vagina for 21 days and removed for 7, and
the contraceptive trans-dermal patch.
Lagging behind is the development of
a trans-dermal gel and trans-nasal spray
delivering contraceptive hormones. If
and when these become available, all
the different routes of administration of
hormonal contraception will finally have
been exhausted and innovation might
employ some radically different concept.
Thus, the idea that contraception can
be used not only to prevent pregnancy
but also to confer health benefits, and
particularly to reduce the frequency
of menstrual bleeding, has received
considerable interest in the last couple
of years. The use of selective oestrogen
receptor modulators (SERMS), for
example, to develop a contraceptive pill
that reduces the risk of breast cancer is
one possibility.
The feasibility of hormonal
contraception for men has been
recognized for more than fifty years, as
it is based on the same concept as the
existing pill. A variety of regimens have
been tested, most of them comprising a
progestogen to suppress spermatogenesis,
combined with testosterone replacement
to maintain sexual function. The long
delay in the development of a hormonal
method for men can be attributed partly
to the lack of an appropriate long-acting
form of testosterone replacement, but also
to the commonly-held belief that men
would never use it and that women would
never trust them to take it. Driven by the
potentially huge market of testosterone
replacement therapy for ageing men,
the pharmaceutical industry has at last
made a tentative commitment to the
development of hormonal contraception
for men.
Immunocontraception also
seems to have been in the research and
development pipeline for an inordinate
amount of time. Vaccination against
the egg, sperm, and embryo are all
technically possible. However, progress
has been hampered by a variety of
factors, including uncertainty about the
long-term effects of immunizing against
 26 ARTICLES
human tissues. Additionally, there are
fears that contraceptive vaccines too
easily lend themselves to coercive family
planning policies. Perhaps the greatest
promise for a radically new method lies
with the use of antiprogesterone. Taken
as either a daily or once-a-month pill,
the antiprogesterone mifepristone is
now marketed in China as an emergency
contraceptive. In other countries, its
development is seriously inhibited by the
anti-abortion lobbyists, since
mifepristone was historically
used as an abortion pill. The
chronicles of mifepristone
illustrate the difficulties that
almost every advance in
contraception has encountered
in the face of social, cultural,
moral and religious factors. The
increasing tendency towards
litigation has also stifled the
development and availability
of new methods. All these
influences generate anxiety for
the pharmaceutical industry
when it comes to taking on new
leads.
In recent years, research
progress has depended largely on
nonprofit organizations, such as
the World Health Organization
and the Population Council.
However, two significant factors
have had a major effect to
curb their enthusiasm for the
development of new methods.
The first is the HIV/AIDS
epidemic. Although it led
to the revival of the condom
and a renewed interest in the
development of more effective barrier
methods, it reduced the interest in
developing other new methods of
contraception. This is partially because
of the commonly-held view that it is
unethical to pursue new methods of
contraception that do not simultaneously
Photo by Logan Beck
prevent HIV transmission. The second
major impediment to contraceptive
development has been the widespread
view that the population problem has been
solved, with the result that donors of the
nonprofits no longer regard contraceptive
research as a priority. It is indeed true
that in the thirty years between 1965
and 1995 the total fertility rate (TFR)
in the world fell from 4.9 to 2.8 children
per woman and that in 1997, fifty-one
countries – accounting for over 44% of
the global population had fertility rates
below the replacement level. However,
the TFR in most countries of the African
continent is over 5.5, and in these same
countries fewer than 20% of married
women are using contraception. Despite
higher contraceptive prevalence, abortion
rates continue to rise in most countries
worldwide, including the developed
world, and unwanted pregnancy accounts
for tens of thousands of maternal deaths
each year. As more and more women
start having sex at an earlier age, delay
childbearing for longer spans of time,
and have smaller families, many of them
are destined to use contraception for
more than thirty years. The majority of
women will do almost anything to avoid
an unwanted pregnancy and presently
tolerate the inconvenience, side effects,
and associated risks of currently available
methods.
In 1800, U.S. women had an
average of seven children. The U.S. total
fertility rate had dropped to 3.5 by the
beginning of the 20th century. Following
the beginning of the modern birth control
movement in the early 1900s,
fertility rates declined further,
reaching a pre-World War II
low of about two children per
woman in the U.S. Fertility
rates climbed during the baby
boom of the 1940s and 1950s,
then dropped following the
1960’s introduction of OCs and
IUDs. Since the mid-1970s,
average family size in the U.S.
had leveled off at approximately
two children per woman. In
the United States today, only
a few methods of birth control
predominate.
Approximately one-
quarter of all women using
contraception rely upon oral
contraceptives for birth control.
About the same number depend
upon female sterilization.
One-fifth of all couples rely
upon condoms, while another
10% have chosen vasectomy.
These four methods account
for about 85% of contraceptive
practice in this country. Each
of the remaining available
contraceptive methods is used
by 3% or less of US couples. In developed
countries, about half of a woman’s life is
spent in her “potential reproductive years.”
For most women, the span consists of
five stages, each characterized by specific
fertility goals and contraceptive needs.
Safe, effective, reversible contraception is
required during the first four stages of a
woman’s reproductive life span. During
the fifth stage, which is reached after
attainment of desired family size, method
reversibility is less important, although

this conceptual framework may hold less
true with increasing rates of divorce and
remarriage. Over time, more U.S. women
have delayed marriage and the onset of
childbearing. Between 1960 and 1985, the
proportion of unmarried women aged 20
to 29 years more than doubled. Moreover,
a growing number of women are opting
to postpone pregnancy after marriage or
have no children. Consequently, stage 5
of the typical woman’s reproductive life
span has been decreasing in length, while
stages 2 and 3 have been increasing. As
a result, the need for effective reversible
contraceptive methods in the United
States has grown substantially over the
past several decades. The large number
of unintended pregnancies in the U.S.
also may indicate an unmet need for
convenient, reliable contraception.
Each year, nearly half (49%) of all U.S.
pregnancies are unintended. Of these,
54% end in elective abortion. These
rates are much higher than the rates of
many other industrialized nations where
the number and variety of available
contraceptive methods are greater.
In accordance with these
numerous innovations, a number of
political and legal developments during
the past century have closely followed
the advances in contraception. Among
ARTICLES
the most significant have been changes
in laws surrounding the distribution of
birth control. In 1873, the newly enacted
Comstock law outlawed all contraceptive
devices and information in the US. In
addition, many states had laws banning
birth control. Family planning advocate
Margaret Sanger was charged with
violating the Comstock law in 1914,
although the case was later dropped.
In 1916, Sanger again challenged birth
control laws by opening the first family
planning clinic in Brooklyn, New York.
The police closed her clinic, but the court
challenges that followed established a legal
precedent allowing physicians to provide
advice on contraception for health reasons.
During the 1920s and 1930s, Sanger
continued to promote family planning
by opening more clinics and challenging
legal restrictions. As a result, physicians
gained the right to counsel patients and
to prescribe contraceptive methods. By
the 1930s, a few state health departments
and public hospitals had begun to provide
family planning services. Remaining
state laws prohibiting contraceptive use
were overthrown by a 1965 US Supreme
Court decision. The case of Griswold v.
Connecticut had originated four years
earlier when Estelle Griswold, Executive
Director of Connecticut Planned
27
Parenthood, opened four clinics in New
Haven in defiance of state law. When
the case reached the high court, a 7-to-
2 vote rendered the Connecticut law
unconstitutional on grounds of privacy.
Societal, legal, regulatory,
and financial pressures have all but
stalled efforts to develop new
contraceptives, resulting in
few breakthroughs since oral
contraceptives and intrauterine
devices led the “contraceptive
revolution” of the early 1960s.
Most development activity has
focused on modifying existing
hormonally based methods rather
than on creating truly innovative
new techniques. The high rate
of unintended pregnancies and
abortions indicate that our
current array of contraceptive
choices is simply not adequate for
many people in the United States
and worldwide. The design of
new contraceptives will also have
to take into account the rising
rates of sexually transmitted
diseases. The costs to society
of unintended pregnancy and sexually
transmitted disease are tremendous,
especially when considering the cost-
effectiveness of preventing them using
contraceptive methods. Contraceptive
research priorities should be weighted
toward the overall reproductive health
and general well-being of women :
the development of improved options
for women, specifically methods that
act as chemical or physical barriers
to conception and to transmission of
sexually transmitted diseases, including
HIV; once-a-month methods that induce
menstruation, targeted at different points
in the menstrual cycle; and contraceptives
to expand the choices available to men.
Hopefully, we will see the day when
contraception will be as improved from
Photo by Dina Yangirova
today’s options as our current methods
are from the crocodile dung and animal
intestines of the past.
 28 PERSPECTIVE

M
y parents first saw each other in April Vanraj. Upon his marriage to Nandini, a devoted Vanraj
1983. They were married in August learns of his wife’s undying love for Sameer and does all in his
of the same year. Two weeks after my power to reunite the lovers and ensure his wife’s happiness.
paternal grandparents first met, they Unfortunately for Sameer, when he and Nandini finally meet
celebrated their wedding. Married at 17, again, she has learned to love the husband who selflessly put
my maternal grandmother had a baby by the time she was her joy ahead of his own. Sameer becomes the unrequited
18. Though these hurried nuptials may seem the actions of lover, and Vanraj walks off with the love and loyalty of his
wild romantics, plunging into marriage wife, leaving Sameer behind to declare
with abandon, my relatives are in that though Vanraj may have Nandini
fact quite the opposite: pragmatists, for this lifetime, she will be his for
traditionalists—people who follow the the next ten thousand. Bollywood
dictates of custom and family. These theatrics aside, what stuck out the
various and sundry marriages grew not most to me in this film was the sage
out of the first blushes of love but out advice of Nandini’s blind grandmother.
of the tradition of arranged marriage. To Nandini’s daadi, marriage precedes
I moved to America when love, and not the other way around. In a
I was four years old and grew up movie that seems to blatantly privilege
watching Full House and Saved By arranged marriage over love marriage,
The Bell. I was an average little girl the pithy statements of Nandini’s
in the States, avidly watching Disney daadi should not have provoked much
movies and filling my mind with interest or surprise, yet her words made
images of myself in a voluminous ball me think.
gown waiting for a handsome, faceless This May I visited India with my
prince to come along and sweep me father. Our shared Americanness in
off my feet. Unaware that my culture the face of our alarmingly foreign
privileged practicality over the whims homeland engendered camaraderie,and
of emotion, I had no idea that my I took advantage of the companionship
parents’ marriage was arranged. On the to ask about his early married life. One
contrary, I thought that all marriages night as we waited for a delayed bus in
began when parents met one another Thanjavur, where my parents first met,
in high school or college, a belief that I asked Appa about his pen paakarthu
probably grew out of Zack and Kelly’s (literally, seeing the girl) ceremony
relationship on Saved By The Bell and with Amma. I knew already that my
one that prompted me to ask my mother mother and father had seen hardly any
whether she and my father went to the
same college. Her answer was no-- so
First Comes other boys or girls, respectively, before
they met one another at the requisite
I asked whether they went to the same
high school. Again, her answer was no.
Marriage, ceremony and agreed to marry—
without their consent, the “match”
Nonplussed, I burst out, “Then where
did you and Appa meet and fall in
Then Comes Love would not have moved forward. But
I knew nothing about their folkloric
love?” Amma’s response to this naïve Chaya Murali meeting. Had sparks flown? Had Appa
query was a chuckle. The memory of been entranced by Amma’s thick curly
the proceeding conversation fails me, but it culminated in hair? Were the sweets and coffee she prepared and served
something of a romantic disillusionment for me: not all to him and his parents exceptionally tasty? And what were
people have a great, dramatic love story. Thus began my own they both wearing? What was it about that chaperoned
struggle with the enigmatic conception of love. introduction that convinced both of them that they had
In the late ‘90s, a wildly popular Hindi movie called found the person with whom they would spend the rest
Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam came out, starring the gorgeous of their lives? When I asked my father, “What made you
Aishwarya Rai. The film told the story of the rebellious want to marry Amma?” his response was disappointingly
Photo by Viju Rao

Nandini who, spoiled by her doting father, brazenly falls in devoid of romance, even from a man I knew to be nothing
love with Sameer, a visiting guest. When her father discovers if not practical: “My parents thought her parents were good
the unbidden love, he orders Sameer to leave for good, as he people.” This was not the answer I’d hoped to receive, but he
has already arranged Nandini’s marriage to the respectable followed this dry response with an anecdote that softened
 PERSPECTIVE 29
the story of the beginning of my parents’ life together. bring his own set of doubts
About a week after he and Amma were engaged, and questions along with
Appa boarded a train to Delhi, where he was working in him. I will probably not
a bank at the time. The train was derailed, and a few tables know the security of having
were upset and injuries suffered in the dining car. Thankfully, my spouse pre-screened and
nearly everyone, my father included, left the train unscathed. selected for me by a cadre
Upon disembarking, Appa sent two telegrams conveying his of well-meaning relatives
safety and continued journey towards Delhi. One telegram with my best interests at
went to his parents in Trichy. The other went to my mother heart. For my parents and
and her family in Thanjavur. And just like that, after one so many of the couples that
meeting, one engagement ceremony, my father committed came before them, marriage
himself to my mother. This, to me, is arranged marriage. A came before love. The
willful commitment. An unbreakable bond. Just like any decision was made, and the
other marriage-- only the commitment tends to come before commitment came logically.
the concomitant emotion. The organic development of
The significance of the second telegram may be a relationship, of emotions
lost upon those who can see arranged marriage only in the growing to fruition, of this
light of traditional Western marriage: love marriage, as my fruit yielding a commitment,
family calls it. Before April of 1983, my father had never still seems an enigma to
seen my mother. He didn’t know her name, her family, her me, and the absence of this
face— he didn’t know of her existence. All he knew was gradual development in my
that a wife-figure loomed on the horizon of his life, the familial history makes the
details of which would be fleshed out in the future but were mystery still deeper.
currently unimportant. Yet once his family started “looking” The nice thing
for a girl for him, once my mother was “found,” he was about arranged marriage is
suddenly faced with the woman he would live the rest of that it makes the ending
his life with. From a faceless, vague character, my mother knowable. His name and
became a very real person, and the transition from having an face may be a blur, but he
unnamed wife to meeting a physically present fiancé must will doubtlessly be well
have been disconcerting to Appa. All his life, he had only educated, from a “good”
been answerable to his parents. Now he owed allegiance to family of solid social
my mother. It was this new connection, this unprecedented standing, and he will bear the stamp of parental approval.
loyalty, that was symbolized by the telegram that went to my This type of predictability, of knowing whose silhouette will
maternal grandfather’s home in Thanjavur. accompany mine as we walk off into the sunset, is tantalizing.
Growing up the daughter of an arranged marriage Yet the capriciousness of love marriage still holds an allure,
presents interesting complications for a girl in America. for what is more exciting than falling inexorably in love?
These complications normally do not arise in the form of But because I have no parental reference point, I’m afraid I
having to explain this tradition to others; most everyone I simply won’t know how to do it. Emotion will poke its head
know is aware of the existence of arranged marriages, though tentatively around a corner, but I’ll deny it my glance, looking
I cannot say that everyone understands the reasons behind past it for the label my mind insists should come first.
the custom. In fact, even I don’t understand all of the reasons. In fact, the labels and emotions associated with the
The realm of dating and relationships is treacherous for beginning of a relationship are probably much more entangled
anyone, but it feels like a veritable minefield to me. Perhaps than I imagine them to be, the mixture complex and the order
my problem is that I, like Nandini’s grandmother, think that of which came first and which second indistinguishable. Still,
the label comes before the love—if I can say that I am in I wonder if it wouldn’t just be simpler if the concrete name
a relationship, I’ll automatically know what it is to be in a came before the nebulous feeling. Reverse the childhood
relationship. Or perhaps the situation is more nuanced than rhyme, put the marriage before the love, and make the
that. Or not. process intelligible. Somehow, I suspect that it won’t be that
Most probably the little girl within me longing to simple for me, that it’s never that simple for anyone. In the
Photo by Viju Rao

be a Disney princess still believes that Prince Charming final analysis, life is not like a fairy tale, a movie, a song: the
will come along some day. Unfortunately, I have come to ending is unpredictable, the last scene unknowable until it
realize that nothing is ever as black and white as it seems in unfolds. Marriage may come, love may come, but no one,
childhood. Most likely, even if a prince does come along, he’ll myself included, knows when.
 30 PERSPECTIVE
Katelyn Willis

What It Means To Be A Girl

T
he first time someone told me I needed to start I was annoyed; I just wanted to go swimming, but I couldn’t
wearing a bra under my dress, I was eight years because I would get blood in the hotel pool.
old. My principal approached my mother and In sixth grade, I wore boys’ pants whenever I wanted
told her that she thought it was necessary for to look nice. They didn’t stretch to fit my curves like girl-
me to start wearing support garments because pants do, and Bridget had told everyone that I wore a C-cup.
I might be a distraction with my rapidly-developing breasts. At eleven years old, I looked like a woman. Hernán made
I was repulsed by the thought of donning a lace-covered fun of my breasts, pushing his chest forward with a pompous
contraption adorned with bows and wires and other such stride and saying “Look at me! I’m Katelyn!” In sixth grade,
torture devices.They itched and rubbed in all the wrong places, I learned how to slouch. It felt like hiding.
and I was given to defying the command: What right did my I was the only girl in my fencing class. My coach
principal have to think that I would be a distraction to the was so nervous when he tried to explain about gender-
boys in my third specific protective
grade class? Could equipment for
she think I would fencing bouts, he
be a distraction to ended up yelling
my male teacher? “breast protector”
We compromised; very loudly across
I wore sports bras the room. All the
until 10th grade. boys turned and
When I stared. I stopped
was in first grade, wearing mine,
Manuel made me which was hard
and several other plastic and didn’t
girls climb to the fit properly, except
top of the jungle at competitions,
gym with him where they
and pull our pants checked. When
down, so he could I got to college,
see why girls were my fencing coach
different. Even yelled at me for it
with the 100- because trauma to
degree weather, my the chest can cause
stomach turned breast cancer.
cold at the sight of his penis. I went and told the playground My closest friends were all boys. I tried to upstage
monitor, but she didn’t do anything about Manuel. For years their masculinity whenever I got the chance. Jamie was
afterwards, I saw penises every time I looked at a boy. particularly difficult; he worked out every night and was
In fifth grade, Hernán told me he liked my legs and strong, so he could win a bout purely by being persistent,
wanted me to go out with him; later, I said yes. He followed using his strength to overcome superior tactics. I learned to
me home from school, trying to figure out how to get me to aim for his crotch because I knew it would hurt him, and
kiss him. But I wouldn’t, so he decided his other girlfriend that he would remember that I was better. I patronized
Violet was good enough and dumped me. When I tried to sit newcomers, pretending that I was the Master and they
with the other kids out by the merry-go-round, they threw were my Padawans. Because I was better, I felt better about
rocks at me and moved away to go talk somewhere else. Two myself.
Photo by Rachel Solnick

years later, Ché said Hernán had told everyone I’d let him
put his hand inside my bra.
I got my period the summer before sixth grade while
we were staying at a hotel in Odessa. My mom wanted to take
me out to eat to celebrate. My dad congratulated me because
I was a woman now, and offered to buy me something new.
I cut my hair really short before college, and my
advisors and I dressed up in drag for a meeting with our
sister group at Martel. I wore men’s basketball shorts and
a super-large t-shirt, paired properly with a backwards
baseball cap and Adidas sandals. Vishal told me I captured
masculinity perfectly. I wasn’t sure if that meant I looked like

a boy. I thought my boobs were big enough that no one could
mistake me for a boy.
I tried to be friends with girls my freshman year at
college. From high school, I was under the impression that
girls were backstabbing and obsessed with things like boys
and makeup and self-image. But at college, there was a group
of girls that shared a lot of my (rather female) interests:
musicals, Disney movies, painting, writing, tea, cooking.
They were super-feminine, wearing dresses or skirts and a
confident attitude, and I thought I could get a normal girl
experience, without all the backstabbing, if I hung out with
them. I liked girls and wanted to be considered one by my
guy friends. However, my “normal girl experience” included
a lot of drama anyway; when Elyza asked me if I would vote
for her for secretary, I honestly answered, “No.” She didn’t
speak to me for the next three months, and I gave up on
girls.
I found my place amongst a group of boys that didn’t
get upset over trivial things, or gossip about who likes whom
and whether someone else has already laid claim to a certain
boy, or expect me to know what colors are associated with
which season (I’d never even heard of Color Me Beautiful
before, but I did know about makeup). Instead, we watched
Trigun and Samurai Champloo and played video games,
sitting clustered around a mini-TV with a freshly-opened
package of Oreos and a few cartons of milk. I
learned about boob engines (the script used
to generate breast motion on female
characters in video games), and we
made fun of Voldo from Soul
Caliber because his whole body
was a giant boob engine.
When we came back
to school at the beginning of
my sophomore year, another
girl tried to become a part of
my group of boys. Teagan was
ultra-feminine, and there was
something about her that just
oozed sexuality. She wore low-
cut shirts that left little to the
imagination, and she had this way of
inserting herself into any conversation
and becoming the center of attention. I
was appalled to discover the sway she had over
my group of friends. When she started dating Wesley,
my highly charismatic but arrogant friend whom I had at
one point been interested in, my dislike for her materialized.
She was high-maintenance, demanding much of his time,
dictating the time that he didn’t spend with her (she tried to
forbid him from playing his favorite video game), insisting
that his roommates come to her orchestra concerts or watch
the movies that she wanted to. She became like a toothache,
PERSPECTIVE 31
and I wanted to get rid of her. She talked about boobs, she
played hentai games, she bought a copy of the highest-
grossing porno and gave it to the boys as a gift. She made me
horribly aware that boys — even my wonderful guy friends!
— thought of girls as sex objects. Suddenly, it didn’t matter
to me that I was the one the guys would call when they
wanted to watch Lost or waste an afternoon playing Staggy
the Boy Scout Slayer. I fretted about why I wasn’t sexually
interesting.
Around that same time, I tried pursuing my first
relationship. I went out on a date! Sitting across from him
at his favorite Indian restaurant, Jonathan told me I was
beautiful, comparing me to the lightning that flashed around
us. He liked that I was strong, that I could “pwn” him in
fencing class. To me, that was affirmation that it was okay
for me to be who I was, a strong girl seeking always to be
accepted on the same level as men. And when he told me I
was hot, I believed him.
Things ended badly. A week after I finally admitted to
Jonathan how I felt and asked him if he wanted to start dating
officially, he stopped returning my calls. He un-friended me
from facebook with no accompanying explanation, and he
stepped down as Treasurer for Fencing Club. That same week,
Teagan and Wesley broke up. Wesley yelled at me for being
insensitive when I didn’t want to watch the movie he wanted
to, even though no one else wanted to either. He
said “Come on, Katelyn, I’ve had a bad week.
Teagan and I broke up.” All the other
boys knew about what had happened
to me, but they didn’t say anything
to Wesley, so I didn’t either. We
watched what Wesley wanted to
watch. Finally, I was one of the
boys, but was I any happier?
It’s like this: I have two
boobs, two ovaries, a womb, a
vagina. My voice and my body
fat ratio are higher. I am shorter,
I am curvier and I bleed once a
month.
Here is the truth: when we
climbed to the top of that jungle gym
in first grade, Manuel pulled his pants
down for us to see. It was a revelation of
sorts, seeing that 6-year-old penis dangling in
front of me, just above the top of his khaki shorts. I
recognized then that this symbol of masculinity he shared
with us, small and shriveled and nothing more to me than
Photo by Logan Beck
an extra flap of skin, was something that made me different
from Manuel. He was a boy, I was a girl. In first grade, it
didn’t matter. We were still one gender, playing together,
pretending to be Power Rangers and Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtles. Why did that simplicity change two years later?
 32 PERSPECTIVE

I
looked up from my Orgo book and stared out the was gay non-consensual erotica involving characters from
window. The clouds outside were fluffy and high and anime shows. She thrust these stories at me, 12 years old and
it seemed so easy to just dive to the outside and leave utterly innocent, saying “you’re so good at English, just do it
behind work for now. Shaking my head, I bent down for me”. I still remember the first sentence of hers I read– “the
over the Alkyl-lithium reaction I was supposed to room stank with the smell of blood, sweat and sex” – needless
be learning about. It’s just that, I thought almost plaintively, to say, I was freaked out. With shaking hands, I returned to
almost anything else was more interesting. And why was I so her the next day, whispering “I edited it, but I don’t want to
distracted? Was it my boyfriend? I ever again”. Sandy looked through
hadn’t seen him today, maybe I’d give my changes, smiled slightly, and
him a call…but no, I couldn’t, he had said, “But you’re so good at this! I’ve
a meeting right now. Was it friends? never had such good feedback!” And
A test? Family? I went through the so, through simple flattery, Sandy
list, one by one, until I was only left had a new pre-teen editor. Through
with one explanation for my inability her 13-year-old words (how mature
to focus: I was horny. “I really don’t she was!), I learned about 69ing, anal,
have the time for this,” I muttered, vibrators, bondage and many other
trying to ignore the increasing things that often go into erotica.
pulsing from my center. But I knew “No wonder I turned out so
I was going to lose this battle as I did screwed up,” I told myself, scrolling
every time; the drive to masturbate, through pages and pages of naked
I have decided, knows no bounds. bodies, seeking the stimulation that
Since the age of four, when I found I knew deep inside was not coming.
that grinding against the floor felt Instead, my thoughts moved back to
good, I have known this pull, and seventh grade again.
have always accepted it as a chore to Within months, I had
be taken care of. Like the annoying become a pro at my trade. I edited
cousin you only babysit for money, with eyes trained for what sexually
this need was unavoidable, and I active high school kids would look
only fulfilled it to get the payoff, a for, knew what was too graphic and
minute of relaxation before the real not graphic enough, and soon found
world set in again. myself getting frustrated with Sandy.
Moving over to the
computer, I searched “free porn
online” and clicked the first hit – it
The Making Couldn’t she see all the mistakes
she was making, how this sentence
altered the flow, how this piece of
didn’t really matter what it was, after
all. I felt myself getting wet, leaning
of Love dialogue was just a bit too contrived?
I had long ago become familiar
forward in anticipation of the video Anonymous with the internet, and often read
titled “Young Virgin Gets Fucked”. similar stories by different people on
And, just as promised, the video showed some youngish fanfiction.net. It was amazing; thousands of stories written
brunette with braids getting pounded from the back. And, by thousands of people about cartoon characters having sex.
just as expected, my desire wilted. Out of these stories, only 1 in 40 was written with any real
It’s an odd thing, really, but the number-one skill. I knew I could do better.
guaranteed way to ensure that I am turned off is to show So I did.
me porn. I don’t know why, but for some reason it just is From age 13 to 15, I wrote about stuff I had never
so uninteresting to me that sex itself is momentarily known in the real world: gay sex, straight sex, space sex, hobbit
uninteresting as well. Odder still, perhaps, is the fact that sex, sex with robots, sex on carnival rides, sex in every place
every time I get bothered, I think porn will be hot. Why is it and situation possible. Where the real world had boundaries,
that, even after so much negative reinforcement I still think the fictional world was boundless. There, my slowly emerging
Photo by Anonymous

“Busty Teen Loves Raw Sex” will get me off? hormones could range freely, lolloping in the grass of web
It all started in middle school with a friend who erotica. The best part was the online comments. Every time
led me into my first sexual exploration. It wasn’t at all like I posted a story, compliments from other readers (who were
it sounds- I was her editor. At the tender age of 13, Sandy probably, like me, lying about being 18) would pour in, filling
wrote fan fiction; her specialty, she would proclaim loudly, me with confidence in my writing abilities. (Cont’d p. 55)

Tit for Tat: Shake It Up for Mama
W
hy is it that our society condones the
exploitation of women in commercial
ads for pretty much any commercial
product? Clothes, perfume, watches,
soft drinks—the list goes on. Sex is
EVERYWHERE and at times may seem excessive. However,
when we’ve reached the point where we use sex to sell even
charitable causes like PETA’s “I’d rather go naked than wear
fur” ad campaign (which also only portray naked women),
we’ve affirmed that sex is effective, sex communicates, sex
grabs your attention.
My point, then, is if we’re going to have this game
of sexy time all the time, let’s level the playing field. Because
really now, the products may be for women, they don’t put on
a $10+ million Victoria Secret Fashion Show every year just
for female patrons. This gender-imbalanced sexploitation
not only pertains to our commercial practices but also
our highly sacred American traditions. Take Halloween,
for instance. For all the sexy maids, school girls, cats, and
witches, where are the sexy butlers, school boys, dogs, and
wizards? Where are the boys gone wild? Surely, for every girl
who likes wearing a wet t-shirt and wrestling naked in jello,
there is a boy who enjoys the same?
Men’s Watch Ad vs. Women’s Watch Ad
This unfair standard towards women can be somewhat
epitomized by our conception of female superheroes. As if
Wonder Woman’s feats of strength and flawless appearance
weren’t enough, the fact that she fights crime in a corset and
has never had a nip-slip is truly a wonder. Are there any
ugly female superheroes? Even The Thing has a girlfriend,
but if Elecktra put on some pounds or forgot her mascara,
she’d be ostracized by society. Male superheroes get to be
PERSPECTIVE 33
Tiffany Kim
three-dimensional and are actually preferred that way, while
female superheroes are restricted to their one-dimensional
sexy cop act. If Supergirl, She-Hulk, or Invisible Girl were
half as emo as Spiderman or Batman, their personal turmoil
would be dismissed as PMS. Similarly unrealistic limitations
extend to the behaviors of supervillainesses. Wouldn’t it just
be a little freakin’ ridiculous for Doc Ock to have the same
sexy slur that Catwoman or Poison Ivy possess? Why is it
necessary for every bad girl in a Bond movie to sleep with
007? It’s like, “Sleep with Bond? Check. Now I can use the
laser to destroy the moon.” But don’t get me started on Bond
movies. (Two words: Pussy Galore. Two more words: Holly
Goodhead. One last word: Octopussy.)
Why are female superheroes denied pants?
It’s actually pretty hilarious when you pay attention
to how women are unnecessarily sexed up, but this
objectification can’t just go ignored. All I really ask is that
we be fair. We’ve had plenty of tit—aren’t we due for some
tat? Women have been putting out in our sex-driven society
for a while now, and it’s about time that men reciprocate.
Gentlemen, practice your bend-and-flick a la Legally
Blonde. Start eating strawberries, cherries, or anything else
in the berry family with some seductive determination. For
every movie with cheap boob shots, there should be a movie
featuring leather-Speedo-clad manly men. (If you don’t
believe that 300 is the best chick-flick to have come out in
years, I think you should watch it again, hetero-males-in-
denial.) How about a male equivalent to Strip Aerobics by
Carmen Electra? We demand an upgrade from the Richard
Simmon’s Groovin’ with the Oldies moves. Shake it up for
Mama, boys! Let’s make The Game more interesting for
everyone to play.
 34 PERSPECTIVE
A Queer View on Sleeping Around
I
recently came across an article detailing gay sexual
behaviors and their effects on public health within
the United States. Published by the online Catholic
Education Resource Center, the article gave several
arguments against sexual behaviors that gay men and
women engage in. The article detailed common sexual acts
like anal and oral sex alongside fetish activities, like fisting
and coprophilia (sexual pleasure derived from human feces),
and suggested that these alternative sexual practices are
common among the gay community. I am not going to try to
argue that their data is wrong— although the data suggesting
that over 25 percent of gay men will have over a thousand
sex partners in their lifetime does seem a little blown out
of proportion— or that Christianity is evil for publishing
such things, but the apparent lack of understanding among
certain groups with regards to gay sexual patterns bothers
me. While the belief that gay men sleep around and take
part in sex that could be seen as sadism or masochism may
hold true for certain people within the LGBT community,
not all gay men, including myself, are looking for a simple
one night stand.
Everyone knows there is a cliché about gay men
in the United States. We are characterized as effeminate,
shallow, drugged up, and promiscuous. This characterization
of gay men angers me. I admit I am an effeminate-sounding,
musical-theater-loving guy who likes to shop with one of his
best friends; but that does not mean that I automatically fit
into every aspect of the stereotypical gay male. My friends
can attest to the fact that my favorite movie is an action film
(Children of Men was AMAZING!) and that I have been
known to quote Power Thirst at inappropriate times. Some
of my friends, including one of the editors of Open, were
surprised when I stated my stance on sex and relationships.
I just simply point out that it was in my upbringing in the
Photo by Ariel Shnitzer
Anonymous
Photo by Amy Lanteigne
South, where kids are raised to respect sex and to not enter
into a sexual relationship lightly.
Despite being raised in the South, my parents were
not overly religious when I was growing up. They are both
Christian to this day, but allowed me and my siblings to form
our own opinions about religion, politics, and society. This
allowed my views to develop differently in theirs. My parents
would much rather that I remain a virgin until marriage, or
in my case, a commitment ceremony or civil union. I am not
scared of having sex, but afraid I might regret having had sex
too soon. When I am old and decrepit, I want to be able to
remember the first person I was intimate with and smile. I
want to remember what he looked like, how we met, what
he smelled like, and most importantly, his name. For these
reasons, I have made the decision to wait to have sex.
I will never say that every person in the LGBT
community agrees with me and because of this, the article
I read holds some truth. Promiscuity exists within the gay
community, as it exists in any social, cultural, or gender group.
I have met both gay and straight people, men and women,
Americans and Europeans who sleep around or participate
in alternative sexual practices. I applaud them for wanting
to express their sexual urges. But then I have also met both
straight and gay people who are waiting until marriage.
Whether by religious choice, or an event in their lives that
made them want to save themselves for a single person, they
have made the choice to remain a virgin until marriage.
I made a similar decision. Not to be the cliché gay
guy who sleeps around for years, but to be comfortable
enough with whom I am until I am ready to take the next
step with the right person. Sure, beguiling promiscuity exists
within any community or social demographic, but I am
not sexually promiscuous. This choice, cultivated through a
combination of my own desires and childhood upbringing,
is not something that I will apologize for or allow others to
belittle; it is a decision I hold with no regrets.
 PERSPECTIVE 35

S
einfeld fans will recognize the slogan “Master of that there is something “wrong” with people who masturbate
My Domain.” You can get it printed on a t-shirt (or at least something sinful about the act itself ). I don’t know
or a coffee mug as an homage to the episode where how everyone seems to come to an unspoken understanding
Jerry, Elaine, George, and Kramer place bets on of this when it seems no one ever wants to talk about it.
who can go the longest without masturbating. Maybe it’s the fact that there’s such a taboo against even
Kramer is quickly out of the competition, followed by talking about it that makes us cognizant of the fact that doing
Elaine, but George and Jerry stick it out until the end of the it must be particularly terrible. Heck, even in the Seinfeld
episode, a feat made more episode that’s entirely
difficult by the fact that about masturbation, they
Jerry is dating a virgin, so never once say the word!
his sexual frustration is The concept is one that
doubled. most Christians come to
I have a friend associate with shame and
whose study of the sin.
human body and brain A brief review
has led her to repeat to of the literature makes
me often that “humans it clear that the topic
are very sexual creatures.” is hotly debated even
She and I grew up in the within the Christian
same upper-middle class community. When you
conservative town, went come right down to it,
to the same church, were there is no verse in the
confirmed in the same Bible that explicitly
year, and had parents with states “thou shalt not
similar (and somewhat masturbate.” However,
out-of-place) progressive there are a lot of verses
leanings. I can attribute
my own somewhat
Master of My Domain that address topics close
enough for those arguing
prudish attitude toward Jamie Sammis against it to back up their
sex in a large part to my claims with Scripture.
upbringing – whether it Verses condemning lust
was in church, health class, or at home, the message was the are riddled throughout the Old and New Testaments alike
same: sex is good, but only in the appropriate context. As far – 1 Corinthians 6:18, Matthew 5:28, Job 31:9-12, Galatians
as I am concerned, marriage is the appropriate context. In 19-21, to name a few. Is it possible to masturbate without
my time at Rice, however, I have realized that my personal a feeling of lust? Maybe. Next objection: self-centeredness.
views are not shared by a significant proportion of my peers. The Bible tells us repeatedly to be selfless, with the Greatest
Essentially, my friend’s assessment is well-founded: humans Commandment reminding us to love the Lord our God with
are animals, and sex is part of an animal’s existence. all our heart, mind, and soul, and to love our neighbors as
The first time I saw the term “masturbation” was ourselves (Matthew 22:37-39). Christians are called to think
when reading one of those “What’s Happening To My of others before we serve ourselves, and faith is supposed
Body” books parents like to give to their pre-pubescent kids to be God-centered. It can be argued that masturbation is
to avoid having The Talk. I remember being struck, and purely self-centered, and therefore sinful. And then there’s
perhaps a little confused, by the passage that explained what the argument about what separates us from animals anyway:
it was. The book acknowledged that many people, men and in Genesis, God commands Adam and Eve to be “masters
women, partake in self-stimulating activities without any over the fish and birds and all the animals” (Gen. 1:27), and
apparent long-term negative consequences. In the same Paul lists self-control as one of the nine essential Fruits of
paragraph, it stated that many people were opposed to the the Spirit (Galatians 5:23). 1 Corinthians 6:12 states, “‘All
Photo by Dina Yangirova

concept “for religious reasons.” I wasn’t really sure what the things are lawful for me,’ but not all things are beneficial.
Lutheran stance was on that kind of thing, but figured I ‘All things are lawful for me,’ but I will not be dominated
should probably cover my bases and avoid it, just in case. by anything.” Essentially, if we allow a behavior to control
In retrospect, it is interesting that my first encounter us, rather than maintaining control over it, it becomes a sin.
with the term “masturbation” came from such a secular source. The same argument could be used against substance abuse or
It seems to be common knowledge among many Christians gluttony; masturbation is not unique (Cont’d p. 54)
 36 PERSPECTIVE
Stigma
O
nce when I was fourteen, I was playing cards
with the neighborhood boys when they
started cracking jokes about masturbation.
At that age, it seems like I should’ve been
uncomfortable, but in truth, it wasn’t a new
topic to me. I’d had my first orgasm about a year before, in
the shower, when I accidentally sprayed myself between the
legs with the detachable shower head.
So when these boys started joking about “slapping
the salami,” I jumped into the conservation without hesitance.
Their reaction was something between erotic shock and
disgust. While one told me I was awesome for admitting
it, the other didn’t speak to me for weeks. As he put it, I
“freaked him out.”
I learned the hard way that fourteen year old girls
aren’t supposed to masturbate and talk about it – a twist to
the don’t “kiss and tell” game.
Little has changed since then. The whole topic of
masturbation is a social taboo. While our culture is clearly
capable of carrying out open discussions about most forms
of sex – vaginal sex, anal sex, casual sex, good sex, and bad
sex – masturbation, or sex with yourself, is virtually excluded
from most conversations.
And while masturbation is expected of men (consider
all the slang terms to describe it), it’s often portrayed as a
Photo by Matt Taylor
Rose Hansen
shameful, pathetic activity for women. Religious activists
claim it’s gluttonous, self-centered, and downright sinful
because, well, God knows we shouldn’t embrace the joy of
self-pleasure.
The only time masturbation ever seems encouraged
for females is if they’re doing it to enhance sex with a partner.
Read the sex advice sections of women’s magazines like Self,
Cosmopolitan, and Glamour. The most common published
motive for masturbating is to learn how to achieve and orgasm
and then transfer this knowledge to intercourse. Not only do
you get to orgasm, but you can teach your partner how to
make you orgasm too. This is great. Your partner should
know how to make you orgasm. But in my experience, men
become obsessive with making girls orgasm because it boosts
their ego to succeed – not because they were concerned about
their partner’s sexual satisfaction.
When I masturbate, my pleasure – not someone else’s
ego – is my number one priority. And that’s how it should
be. But there’s nothing published in women’s magazines
about masturbating just because you want to.
Think about it. When’s the last time you heard a girl
say, “Well, I was horny and I just felt like masturbating”? The
only time I ever hear girls talk about masturbating is when
they admit to engaging in mutual masturbation or using it
as a sleep aid.
 PERSPECTIVE 37
Last term, I was invited to an all girls “Passion Party” or religious leaders that masturbation was a sin that would
party that sold things like dildos and vibrators and female send you to hell.
lubricants. It’s kind of like Mary Kay or Avon get-togethers, The myths might be broken, but the stigma
except sex is the theme rather than cosmetics. I thought it still lingers. But if you think about it, it’s amazing that
was a great idea at the time (what’s better than a bunch of masturbation isn’t widely encouraged at a younger age. It’s a
girls emphasizing and capitalizing on their own sexuality?), natural form of self-exploration, and though they never said
but a few minutes into it, I realized all the products being it during the sex education I had in middle school, it’s the
sold were pitched simply as intercourse enhancers. In fact, I safest sex you can have – assuming you’re not going to burn
was the only single person at the party. in hell for indulging in yourself.
Giving myself
an orgasm is a little
harmless gift. It doesn’t
hurt feelings, doesn’t get
me pregnant and doesn’t
put me at risk for sexually
transmitted infections. I
might be a sinner, but I
love myself and my body
and I’m not afraid to make
myself feel good – and
masturbating is one, of
many, ways to express that.
Laugh or curse all you
want, but as Woody Allen
famously said, “Don’t
knock masturbation, it’s
sex with someone I love.”
And that’s more than can
be said about other forms
of sex.
Of course, that’s
not something you can
openly say. For as easily
as we engage in dialogues
about intercourse and oral
Ironically, out of all the girls there, I won the grand sex, how many of us are openly willing to admit to having
prize: a vibrator. healthy sexual relationships with ourselves?
It was my first vibrator – battery operated, green, Not many. While it’s socially assumed and accepted
and phallic. that virtually all men masturbate, on average, a fairly popular
It’d be nice to call it revolutionary, but the vibrator consensus is that 60-70% of women admit to partaking
didn’t change much except for the fact that it made in self-pleasure (key word: admit). When it comes to
coming a much quicker business with less clean-up. I wish masturbation, the subject still makes us shift in our seats.
masturbating was the deep, emotional, spiritual affair that But masturbation is a healthy expression of sexuality,
many women experience, but it’s just not like that to me. I and the physical and psychological benefits of it deserve
don’t do the whole bubble bath, candlelight thing. The home recognition. It can relieve stress, pain (such as menstrual
I was raised in didn’t emphasize sex as a sin or a pleasure. It cramps or migraines), and increase self-awareness. And
was just something people did. To me, masturbating is just yes, when incorporated into sex with a partner, it can make
something I do, just because I have the appetite for it. It’s foreplay and intercourse better. But best of all, it feels good.
Photo by Matt Taylor

like a snack. So why aren’t we doing it more often and talking

But remember all the rumors and assumptions that about it more openly?
floated around about masturbation in grade school? People Until we’re ready to engage in open dialogues about
who admitted to doing it were considered perverts. Some it, the association of it as a deviant and shameful activity will
said you’d go blind. Even worse, some were told by parents never break, and that’s a shame in itself.
 38 PERSPECTIVE
Donna Huang

The “L” Word

comes down to it, it seems like the “L” word has just fallen
out of fashion. Rather than conjuring images of candlelit
dinners and long walks on the beach, nowadays love seems
more often to connote the mundane, the uncool, and most of
all…the hard work. Loving, committed relationships appear
to take a level of devotion and labor that many of us seem
unwilling or unable to conjure up, as evidenced not only by
the university hook-up culture, but also by the staggering
rates of divorce in our country. Are romantic love and the
committed monogamous relationship just social constructs
that have fallen out of step with the times? Is there any
biological basis or advantage for the sensation of love?
Perhaps most important of all, is there any hope for love, or is
love just a thing of the past? Hopeless romantics, take heart.
Research has shown that there is a biological underpinning
for love and committed monogamous relationships, and that
furthermore, such relationships are beneficial to, or even vital
to, a person’s well-being.
The idea of a biological basis for love may at first
seem incongruous. In light of the argument that during any
given organism’s life, its main goal is to procreate, love and
the elaborate rituals and dating and marriage that come with
it seem to be completely accessory to this most primal and
basic of biological goals. Despite the best efforts of some
self-purported “liberated” minds to write off love as a purely
societal construct that binds individuals to an antiquated and
restricted model of human interaction, we may not be able
to help falling in love. Recent research has indicated both
strong biochemical factors driving the sensation and process
of falling in love as well as some compelling evolutionary

I
arguments for why love exists. Helen Fisher, an anthropologist
t is a story familiar to many college students across from Rutgers University, has conducted functional magnetic
the nation: “ Oh man, I was so wasted last night and resonance imaging (fMRI) studies of the brains of people in
I hooked up with fill-in-the-blank.” Hooking up, love, and has traced both the strong initial feelings of new
or engaging in casual sexual activity ranging from love and the less-exciting stability of habitual love to specific
kissing to intercourse with a people whom one is not regions and neurotransmitters of the brain. According to
in a committed relationship with, is becoming an increasingly Fisher, romance is processed in three regions of the brain:
widespread phenomenon among university students in the the ventral tegmental, the accubumens, and the caudate
United States. Hooking up has an undeniable allure; it is nuclei. The exciting feelings of strong, near-obsession that
exhilarating and gives heady and instantaneous gratification. people newly in love experience originate in the ventral
In this whirlwind of excitement, the emotional and tegmental and the accubumens. These brain centers are
psychological connections between two people that are part major processing sites of the neurotransmitters dopamine,
and parcel of a normal romantic relationship are often left vasopressin, and oxytocin, all of which are released when a
Photo by Taylor Johnson

by the wayside. As a matter of fact, more than simply being person is falling in love. Each of these neurotransmitters
overlooked, love and romance almost seem to have become binds potently and elicits powerful reactions in the brain,
taboo and passé.Two people can hook up regularly for months, particularly oxytocin. The release of oxytocin and vasopressin
but mention dating and everyone becomes more skittish in humans is stimulated by many factors in an individuals
than Madoff when the SEC comes to call. “Commitment” environment, including sex, thus making it very difficult
and “exclusivity” have become dirty words to be said with a chemically speaking, for a person not to form the dreaded
wrinkled nose, kind of like “chores” and “taxes.” When it emotional attachment after the random hook up. In 2000,

Andreas Bartels and Semir Zeki of University College in
London found that the brain regions stimulated when a
person is falling in love were different from those stimulated
when a person experiences other strong emotions such as
fear or anger. Surprisingly, rather than resembling the brains
of people experiencing strong emotions, the brains of people
in love resembled those of people who had snorted cocaine.
In other words, the centers of the brain controlling the love
sensation are the same as those that generate the euphoria
and addiction associated with cocaine use. In short, we are
literally addicted to love.
As anyone who has been in a committed relationship
knows, the excitement of the new relationship does not last
forever, and eventually the relationship settles into a more
stable, albeit less thrilling, mode of existence. This stage of
love, what Fisher calls habitual love, is generated by the caudate
nuclei. The caudate nuclei also are responsible for storing
the memories of how to do mundane things such as typing
and driving. One thing notable about the caudate nuclei is
that the memories stored here are virtually permanent unless
the brain sustains extraordinary injury or trauma. Thus, the
feelings that are made extremely powerful by the ventral
tegmental and the accubumens are made permanent in the
caudate nuclei1. This is the point at which, for better or for
worse, you’re probably more likely to stay in and watch a
movie with your partner than go out; you’re probably not
trying to impress each other any more; and there is very little,
if anything, that can be described as “exciting” about your
relationship.
The initial excitement of dating and courtship as
well as the comfortable plodding of long-term companionate
PERSPECTIVE 39
love can ultimately be linked to the quest for reproductive
advantage and success. What differentiates humans
from other animals, and what ultimately preserves us as
a species, is our intelligence. It is a trait that through the
ages has been selectively favored over other advantages
(for instance, extraordinary strength or speed, or the
ability to fly). Accompanying this increased intelligence,
however, is an increased amount of time needed to grow
and develop this intelligence, hence an extended period of
reliance of offspring on their parents. Fisher theorizes that
habitual love developed as an adaptation to the protracted
dependency period. If two partners are to successfully raise
their offspring, they need a strong bond that will allow them
to remain together throughout the offspring rearing process
without an all-consuming passion that might distract them1.
The ritual of dating may have an evolutionary purpose as
well. Besides the immediately practical purposes of avoiding
unwanted pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases, some
anthropologists hypothesize that the elaborate courtship
rituals present in many societies may have developed as
part of a genetic screening process. The idea is that if an
individual offers up his or her reproductive services too easily
it may be because they are trying to compensate for not being
able to offer a very good selection of genes. On the other
hand, an individual who more conscientiously guards against
promiscuity may have a better hand, genetically speaking,
and thus are able to demand more
from prospective mates.
Not only is there evidence
to suggest that love is biologically
hardwired, there is also evidence
to suggest that love is good for our
health. Studies have shown that
love has beneficial effects on stress
levels and autoimmune function.
Conversely, a lack of positive social
support, including but not limited to
loving romantic relationships, has been
linked to both mental and physical
illness. By avoiding commitment
like the plague as we do in university
culture, are we stunting our future
ability to develop normal, healthy
relationships, thereby inadvertently
hurting our health? Supposedly, if
we are merely fighting a phenomenon
Photo by Jeremy Morrell
that is biologically hardwired into us,
it doesn’t really make a difference in
the long run. Love is a phenomenon that is only beginning
to be understood by the scientific community. The more
that is understood, however, the more the evidence seems
to indicate that love is important, beneficial, and, at the very
least, inevitable.
 40 PERSPECTIVE
My Sex, My Certainty
T
he last night of his visit, suitemates studying
just beyond the door kept us quiet, just as
responsibilities waiting on the morning alarm
kept us desperately intent on each other’s bodies.
We pressed together in a simple way- finding the
sweet familiar rhythm that would bring him to a finish. This
night we weren’t attempting to be wild, or sexy, or epic, instead
we were just calm, loving, reaffirming- we were attempting
to ingrain impressions of being held in each other’s arms.
As the minutes wore on, though, it became apparent
to us both that something was wrong. Our simple love-
making became a twisting struggle to keep him hard
long enough to finish what we had begun; trying to find
contentment that we had experienced each other one last
time. Finally, finally, deflated and a little confused, I settled
back into the pillows wondering what, on such a ritually
important night, had diverted his attention from our
Photo by Matt Taylor
love-making. He partially rolled on top of me, his arms
squeezing my torso, his cheek over my belly button, the
words “I’m sorry” brushing my stomach as he said them.
When I felt droplets of moisture well up between us, I began
to understand how much this parting was hurting him.
Anonymous
Of course we’ve had better sex; this is only one
of the many shades we’ve experienced over the course of
our relationship. With the two of us tightly intertwined, a
thousand variations have come in their time- gentle, loud,
delicate, rough, quick, languid, experimental, exquisite,
dissatisfying, and, of course, absolutely perfect. There is
so much we have experienced through sex, feelings so
monumental and detailed that every couple is certain no
one else could have experienced them before. As exciting,
as romantic, and as pleasurable as sex can be, it is sometimes
in the moments of commonality, flawed awkwardness
and upset- the times when sex is not hot, not spicy, not
dark or film-worthy, that sex communicates the most.
The very first time we had sex, the night I “lost” my
virginity, was anything but romance novel material. We’d
been experimenting for months; as I tested the waters that
I was initially convinced would leave me feeling drained,
degraded, or downright evil. We’d quietly, self-consciously
rubbed against each other, then touched, stroked and revealed
our way to a place where I was recklessly certain- not that I
wanted to have sex- but that the vacillations of my own mind
were enough to drive me crazy. Loving the self-aggrandizing
 PERSPECTIVE 41

feeling of reckless danger it gave me, I bustled into his room, you-welcome-home. It isn’t perfect, it isn’t even physically
closed the unfinished paper on his computer, coaxed him enjoyable, but it is so exquisitely comforting for the soul,
to his bed, and kissed my way to my own deflowering. It for our long-distance-hearts, to finally put the pieces back
was stilted and awkward, uncertain and jittery. Nothing hot, together, that though the sex would make any observer
nothing to haunt my memory with its pleasures for years to squirm- to us it is perfect, comforting, healing, and often
come. I was scared, and he was scared and self-conscious. tear-inducing. The mere fact of the other person, so close,
Blown away by the seemingly sudden decision on my part, so insistent, even more present through the pinches and
he was afraid of hurting me, and worse yet, afraid that twists, is enough to make it feel like absolute perfection.
we’d reach the end of our little escapade up and down each It’s surprising what two months apart between each visit
other’s bodies only to find can do to one’s sex life.
that I regretted my choice. While the youth and
It was this consideration, naivety we experience in
this nervousness, and his our relationship can be seen
utter determination to be as positive, adding extra life
as gentle as possible, that and vigor, it creates no end to
really reassured me that awkwardness to our physical
I hadn’t made a mistake. life. While my passion and
People talk about appetite for him grows
“losing” their virginity, exponentially during our
and goodness knows I was time apart, my body and his
terrified of being less of stamina do not keep pace.
a woman the other side; Without practice, without
truthfully, I never felt that at exercising those muscles,
all. The next morning, I was our mere physical realities
calm and confident in the cannot keep pace with our
change that had come over wanton desires. This leads
me, and absolutely certain, to no end of comically early
through the experience and finishes, cramps in all the
his tender self-carriage, that wrong places and times, and
I was more mature than I had dissatisfied expectations. We
given myself credit for, and often become re-accustomed
that he was and is incredibly to each other’s physical
special. Only through the capabilities and sweet-spots
experience of sex have I only when the time for
unavoidably come to have a trip to end has arrived.
the physical truth of him Back to that night, with the
and his fine, caring character two of us curled on a mattress.
impressed on me so deeply. We’d dropped the mattress
I haven’t lost anything off the lofted bed, onto the
through having had sex before marriage, I have gained floor, so that the carpet could accommodate limbs stretching
so much more- a sense of pride in my body, a confidence beyond the comfortable confines of a single-person, extra-
in my ability to handle complex and weighty decisions, long twin bed. His lips brushed my stomach, tears welled
and an utter certainty in the solidity of our relationship. between his cheek and my stomach, and I knew deeply,
Every time one of us steps off the plane we rehearse because of his physical faltering during our last precious
a familiar scene. We get to the bedroom of whoever is episode of making love, just how much he loves me, and how
playing host that weekend, him, me, him, me, back and much it hurt him to leave. And while I feel this pain too,
forth in turns. We kiss tentatively. We want to kiss deeper, while I hate the specter of the silver plane that waits beyond
Photo by Dina Yangirova

but find we have forgotten how, and where and when. It’s
been such a long time since we’ve seen each other, and we’ve
forgotten how to read the other person, what moments and
parts are the right ones. Finally, one of us will get brave,
and begin stroking the other. We’ll stumble, sans foreplay,
into the tentative, awkward sex that means thank-God-for-
the alarm clock, I am grateful in the comfort that our feelings
for each other are so real, so deep, and so everlasting. It is
through the physical reality of our lovemaking, the dynamics
of expression that outdo the words of all other senses, that
I know with all the conviction my frail heart can allow, just
how certain our relationship and our future together is.
 42 S H O R T S T O R IES
Lolita: On Acid
T
he year of 1998 was a trying
and turbulent year I would
never like to repeat. It was the
year that I was sued by a man
I thought to be one of my best
friends, the year I made a failed attempt at
law school, and the year I became acquainted
with Kristen Pedersen. Indeed, a year of one
disappointment after another. I don’t
remember the first time I laid eyes on
Kristen, though prior to the momentous
event of meeting her I remember her being
in my periphery for some time. With her
long flowing blonde hair, white dress, and
black knee-high boots Kristen appeared the
quintessential Goth angel. I had known for
some time that when the time was right I
would talk to her, and so on that special
night in the spring of ’98 I did. There was nothing too
remarkable about our first meeting. I only remember shooting
a couple games of pool with her and exchanging numbers. I
came to find that she was quite good at pool, and in the
weeks that followed I would lose many a game to her. The
discovery that she already had a boyfriend was the first clue
that I should have somehow escaped from the spell she had
me under. Was I naïve? Weak? No. I fell for her fast and fell
for her hard. Try as I might, there was no escape. What
followed thereafter was a rather twisted love triangle. You
see, unlike myself, her boyfriend had a respectable job, and
lived in League City. Because of the pressures of his work
and the distance between them he was generally only available
to Kristen on weekends, and being a social butterfly all of
eighteen years (I was 36 at the time – exactly twice her age)
this did not assuage her need to
Photos by Gaelyn Rose (top) & Dina Yangirova (bottom)
go out during the week. Enter
me. and insisted I do the same, which
And so it was that Kristen
began to call me two, three, even
four times a week to go out. She
always called between 7 and 7:30
P.M., and like a giddy schoolgirl I
would wait by the phone each
evening in anticipation of her call.
I would ask her what she was
doing, and invariably she would
ask if she could come over.
Without exception my answer
was always in the affirmative.
Eagerly I would await her arrival.
Gregory Laco
What would it be this night? Dancing at
Numbers or The Orchid Lounge? Pool,
foosball, or air hockey at Emo’s? Any of
these was par for the course. All of these
involved, at least for me, the consumption
of alcohol that, for a time, allowed me to
forget that I was in competition with her
boyfriend, a man I had never met. In this
manner I could for a time delude myself
into thinking she was all mine. And a
delusion it was. The summer before I began
law school was not spent reading and
preparing for the arduous grind that awaited
me, but in becoming a hopelessly deluded
alcoholic with an unquenchable obsession
with a woman exactly half my age. Indeed,
this became a downward spiral which by
late fall left me nearly destitute.
The pinnacle of our relationship occurred the first
week of August that summer. Without much effort I was
able to convince Kristen to travel to New Orleans with me
for a couple of days. She developed an alibi to give her
boyfriend and off we went. I should remark here that from
the beginning of our relationship, I was very sympathetic
with the character of Humbert Humbert in Nabokov’s novel
Lolita, but at this moment I felt like I was becoming him. Just
like Humbert, I was living out my dream of running off with
a child with whom I was in love. Walking with Kristen down
Decatur in the French quarter and through Jackson Square
was like walking through a heavenly dream. To me, she was
the most beautiful creature there that magical day. As 1998
was the height of the big band / swing dancing revival, we
both quite naturally were into swing dancing, though I never
fancied Kristen to be a very good
dancer. She liked to take big steps,
I’m sure made us look like a couple
of rank amateurs. Regardless,
swing dancing was in the plan,
and with a little persistent research
we discovered New Orleans’
premiere swing dancing venue.
The place was rather elegant and
we were decidedly underdressed.
We had a couple drinks and
danced poorly to three or four
pieces and decided to be off on
our next adventure. It was at about
this time that I mentioned to

Kristen that I had brought with me a few hits of acid; I asked
her if she would like to dose with me. She was adamant in
her refusal, but since New Orleans is such a wonderful place
to trip, I popped a couple hits under my tongue. We spent
the rest of the evening walking through the quarter and
taking a leisurely romantic stroll down the river walk. Sitting
on the banks of the Mississippi River next to the woman I
loved and gazing at the transcendent vista of the moonlit
water was no less than idyllic. This moment was perhaps the
very pinnacle of our short time together. Oh, how I know
how Humbert must have felt having, however briefly, realized
an impossible dream. to each other at a Halloween party. He was dressed as a
We finished the evening at the famous Café du
Monde, lingering over beignets and hot chocolate – then it
was back to the motel. She did not beat around the bush in
expressing that we would be sleeping in separate beds - a fact
I had anticipated and did not protest. Alas, she did already
have a boyfriend, and I respected her decision to be faithful
to him. As Kristen got ready for bed, I spent some time
staring into the mirror as I often did when I was on acid.
While tripping I would see the image of God while gazing
at my own reflection. (It was kind of a Lewis Carroll Looking
Glass moment.) As she came out of the bathroom and got
into bed I asked her to look at me and tell me if she could see
what I had seen in the mirror. Not really knowing what I was
alluding to, she gave me a puzzled glance and asked me to
turn out the light. Turn out the light? She had not seen what
I saw. Obediently, I turned out the light and got into my own
separate bed and looked over at my lovely angel. Coming
down off the acid, I lay awake the rest of the night weeping
as I thought sweet thoughts of this object of my devotion.
There she was sleeping just a few feet from me, yet I knew it
would take a miracle for her to ever become mine. I literally
wept until dawn. kept telling me to get out of the car. I put my heart on the
Two short weeks later, I began my studies at law
school. It was immediately apparent that I was in for a
workload like none I had ever experienced - some 70 plus
pages of reading per day of books that might have well been
written in hieroglyphics. A good part of the lectures too
seemed incomprehensible. As the days elapsed it was pretty
clear that I was in over my head. Also, to my detriment was
the fact that Kristen did not seem to understand the pressure
I was under, and continued calling me in the evenings to go
out. Since I was still hopelessly enchanted by her, I could
SHORT STORIES 43
never refuse her. My beer drinking escalated to the
consumption of hard liquor, and it was becoming quite
apparent that my life was spinning out of control. A couple
of my married law school buddies told me of the happy
relationships they shared with their wives; all I could do was
to hopelessly pine over Kristen and wonder why theirs was
not my lot. Absolutely overwhelmed with anxiety, frustration,
and confusion, I withdrew from law school within a month
of starting.
Near the end of our relationship, I finally got the
chance to meet her boyfriend. Kristen finally introduced us
Viking warrior, horns and all, and of course she was dressed
as a Viking princess. To my dismay, he was really a nice guy.
Friendly, intelligent, and in his mid-twenties, he was certainly
more age appropriate for Kristen than I was. I have to admit
that I actually liked the guy. With this concession I knew the
end our relationship was drawing near. A week or so later, on
one of our usual nights out I foolishly decided to mix alcohol
and Klonipin, a drug my psychiatrist had prescribed to lessen
the great amount of anxiety I had been experiencing since
the whirlwind of law school. He had warned me not to mix
it with alcohol, and on this fateful night I found out why. I
had noticed as of late a distance
growing between Kristin and me,
and it was on this night that I
really clinched it. We had gone to
Numbers that evening, and as I
drank I began to slip into another
psychic realm. I am tempted to
call it a blackout, only I remember
the details all too clearly. Suffice it
to say that it brought out some terrible demons in me. A
quarrel ensued between Kristen and me and it was mutually
decided that she would take me home. In front of my
apartment, I finally exploded in a rage of jealous fury. Like a
damn breaking, I let the emotions I had felt for so many
months burst loose, going on and on about how I felt I was
superior to her boyfriend and berating her for not seeing
this. Unable to endure the idea that there was another guy
out there who couldn’t possibly love her as much as I did, I
broke. And there I was, urging her to see this, but she just
table and she told me to get out of the car. The mystery was
over; we were over. This was the last time I ever spoke to her.
Her calls stopped and she did not return the pathetically
apologetic voicemails I left. I saw her on only one other
occasion some months later. She was walking out the rear
door of Cactus Records, escorted by some other guy I did not
Photo by Viju Rao
know. Whether she noticed me or not, I’ll never know.
Though I remain single, I have given up drugs and alcohol,
and have been clean for about seven years now. I have learned
my lesson well.
 44 S H O R T S T O R IES
Can’t and Fear
I
can’t. I want to say something, but my mind and body
aren’t connected with my thoughts, so I just lie and
say everything is fine. For days, maybe weeks, I have
felt a change, a difference in the touch, the voice, and
the kiss. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s her. The sex might
not even be the same anymore. I lost my virginity to her so
this new feeling is one that I begin to regret, to try to hold
back, but I won’t say anything. I’ll just sit, listen, and think all
day about what I think about all night.
I’m scared of the loneliness, the feeling that things
won’t ever be the same again. So long has her comfort
provided me with the feeling of everything being perfectly
fine when in truth, we are far from the reality we dream of.
Nothing is what it should be, but nobody can see that, not
even us. The touch is cold, but it feels warm; the voice doesn’t
care, but it sounds beautiful; the sex is just an act, something
we do to keep the feeling alive, but its dead.
I never have been good at the skill that makes the
guy uncaring enough to end the relationship and act like it
didn’t mean a thing, going and drowning my problems in
alcohol, drugs, or more sex. I did that it once and I don’t want
to do it again, yet somehow I feel as if there isn’t another
way around the situation, that we will never be “us” again. It
ended relationship, but that I’ll never get it behind me.
Every day of the last year, going with her and
watching movies all day and laying lying together at night.
Loving her in a way I could only describe as just that – loving
Photo by Rachel Solnick
Anonymous
her and knowing it. But now, something has changed, and I
am as lost as I have ever been.
In time I will see if everything is fixed and will
change. If it doesn’t, I will end it and things might never be
the same. She’ll cry and I will too, and she’ll be pissed and I
will too, but…when it’s done it’s done, and as sad as I am, I
will wake up again and try to be the same person she made
me, but I no longer can. Struggle is one piece, but denial and
anger are the others, but I know I can’t go back. So where
does that leave me? As sad as I’ve ever been but hopefully
with the opportunity to be happy in the future, I tell myself.
We still talk when we get a chance, and we definitely
try - because on that day on that brown couch in her house,
everything changed. I don’t have any new interests and
neither does she. Maybe slightly: for her, a guy named Eric
who likes to go spelunking. Either way, has things changed
any more since that day? I’m inclined to say they haven’t,
because all the changes happened before it ended. Is there
love? I might have to say, there probably still is, but maybe it
was the distance, the time or the experiences, because for the
second time in my life, love wasn’t enough. But she’s having a
good time, loving life and going camping and getting it done.
And me, well, I still have doubts about why I did it, regrets as
well. Emotions vary, but thankfully no walls have holes, nor
are pillows soaked with nights of self pity, most definitely
not. Still, there is something that never did change. I never
did get to thinking that I was good enough.
 SHORT STORIES 45

H
e had pet names dollars left of her paycheck not already
for her: “Dahrling,” spent on imitation high-fashion went
spoken like a rolling into a frilly, pink bottle of champagne,
breath pleadingly bought to share, partly in jest, partly in
tracing the creases in spite, partly in the hopes that he might
her palm, “Bay-be,” the first syllable find her gesture endearing. She secretly
long and whining, the last bouncing loved the condescending way he doted on
off his frowning lips. He called her her contrived mid-twenties naïveté. Just
his gorgeous girl, ceaselessly satisfied out of the rain at the top of the subway
with his alliteration. It was overused. station stairs she downed a mini-bottle of
She wanted nothing more than to Captain Morgan’s, paid for at his expense
hear her real name as the two of on their last weekend trip upstate. She
them twisted and crumpled under thought of his fingertips; the same ones
the sheets, confined to the width of at that moment being enclosed by warm
her tiny bed. She wanted to keep him breath, caressed by a more experienced
there until morning, for a shower, a tongue than hers. Stepping out at her stop,
quick breakfast; until sunrise: for some teetering on the spot she wiped her chest
warmth, please, some affirmation; just after spilling the next mini-bottle down
for an hour: let me make you stay, the front of her black silk dress; he was
dare me to make you stay. She offered busying himself unfastening buttons that
sex as atonement for her stubborn bound breasts larger than hers. Fumbling
requests, to appease arms impatient
for their liberation from hers.
Doux with her sling-back she found herself on
his stoop, spins blocking her vision as she
In the daytime he might Zara Ahmad-Post tried to ring his bell to be buzzed up. She
invite her to lunch across town, away thought better of it and sat down to smoke
from her clustered, dirty sidewalks, away from the prying eyes a soggy cigarette. It wasn’t enough. She reached in her clutch
of his sky-rise business district. She read discarded newspapers and found her mirror and a straw; he dug in his drawer for
as she waited six subway stops away from the university; he plastic and latex. He found his prize, this wealthy specimen of
listened absent-mindedly to public radio in the cab. As they a woman, smooth and loose, bendable, indifferent. They started
walked slightly apart to the restaurant, she would chase his at the sound of a buzzer. He pushed her off carelessly and
indifferent glances through the streets, from traffic lights to navigated the minefield of her lingerie.The two women shared
swimming puddles, following the rain dripping off the awnings the stoop for a brief minute. One lingered unknowingly in the
under towering suites and up the minimalist hemlines on the drizzling runoff, battling her impending shame. One slumped
women combatants who waited underneath. Every stocking was against the doorframe, dress stained and stretched, eyes turned
a threat; every dress a round of ammunition; every high-heeled upward to his window. A click cued her entrance.
boot a high-speed rocket launched by high society against her They awoke in the morning, hung over, silent, moody,
depleted physique, her paling skin. old. For the first time, they dressed together, drank coffee, took
There were more than a few women she had reason to turns brushing their teeth. He answered his phone as she put on

Photos by Matt Taylor (top) & Ariel Shnitzer (bottom)

suspect- all with impeccable East-end style and eyes as big as her makeup.
their wallets, all with mockingly sharp wit, all with climbing He came into the bathroom, kissed her quietly on the
connections made through their husbands. In her devastating forehead. “Bye, baby. Call me later?” As he walked away she
insecurity, in the crippling anger so strong her hands would heard his phone click shut.
tingle, she sometimes decided to get even with his charm. She
knew the game inside and out, she had a formula for temptation,
perfected during her teasing days of abstinence. Now and then
she’d call up a college friend, she’d run into a fellow smoker in
her apartment complex and with a look, a brush of her skin,
she’d get an invitation for later. She never brought them to her
studio apartment. She never gave them the release they sought,
but in the same way she once seduced a professor, she would
pretend to listen, pretend to engage when they sat her down on
an asymmetrical couch under a cubist print.
She was drunk by the time she reached his flat. The few
 46 S H O R T S T O R IES
Photo by Amy Lanteigne
Some Call It
Band Camp
Christine Pao
A
welcoming mix of concrete, grassy fields, and
small town paradigms, Indiana was far from
home. I spent that summer making secrets,
and doing what I called “coming alive.” I was
attending a summer music festival for what
felt like the fifty-seventh time, and was hell-bent on making
this summer mind-blowing. because we thought he had a Scottish accent.  “Every boy
On move-in day young musicians drifted past me
towards check-in, a sea of naivety and dread fueled by
homeschool educations flooded over me. I am too cool. I am
too cool. I am too cool for plain, for awkward, for band camp,
for them. A mantra I proudly chanted, a mantra that seemed
to radiate from the inner core of my musical heart. It showed
on my face, on my hip thrust out as I stood in the air-
conditioned lobby. Mid-thought, a blue cello case, laminated
in provocative bumper stickers emanated a silent scream of
rebellion as its rightful owner wheeled it past me, a beam of
light in the darkness. One look and I was convinced. She
was everything classical music wasn’t, and so was I. We
would be best friends, soul mates even. I had met my
match.
Later that night, her bow clung to the strings of her
cello, the sounds of Metallica ripping through the politically
correct walls of the institution. She fought desperately to rid
classical music of everything tedious and clean and I felt as if
I had been drafted along side her many years previous,
veterans of a cruel war. Emma was the daughter of
two traveling artists.  She had been bulimic for three years
and I found her unusual life fascinating. She was an alien
specimen, a kindred spirit.  She worshiped me because I was
from a big city and I had been out to see the world.  She
wanted to own Juicy Couture and give the world’s best hand-
job/blow-job combo. She called her mother “Vicky” and her
father “David,” and I was jealous of the way Emma could
detach herself from the seemingly unspoken need to love the
people called family.  We rode in the backseats of cars driven
by boys who would pick us up on the side of the road. We
would always put on lip-gloss careful to make eye contact
with the boys in the rear view mirror. Sometimes we would
kiss them; sometimes we would kiss each other for attention
as they cheered and offered us cigarettes. There was always
Sheryl Crow’s voice whining through the window, as they
drove off, the dust enveloping us like doves beneath a
magician’s cloak. We disappeared from sight, we were
mysterious.
Our sixteen-year-old selves were bored, reluctant of
conventional stimulation. We wore blinders, and we were
fitted. In search of worthy excitement we raced down the
stairs. 1-2-3-4-5-6 steps to the door and we counted all the
way. We were bored! And then we saw him. He was innocent.
A being of purity in jeans and a tee shirt, headphones blaring
Brahms, and all we saw was opportunity. Our egos grew as
we lured him into our room with nothing but our beauty.
Short skirts do wonders, or maybe it was the fact that it was
8:00 in Bloomington.
Once in our room, he sat in our closet, silent, while
we downed painkillers and took turns taking hits from the
inhaler.  “What would happen if I took a couple more?” she
mused.  We pressed him up against the wall, kissing his face
and messing up his hair.  We asked him up to our room
here thinks you girls are hot.  What do you do in here all day
anyway?”  We could tell he was nervous; he didn’t have an
accent.  We forced him to drink a bottle of cough syrup and
told him we’d tell everyone he was getting high in our room
if he mentioned this to anyone else.  He seemed scared,
intimidated even, but we knew he would later go brag to the

other boys that we had invited him up to our rooms. He
would elaborate the story, telling them we had given him
more than we had, shown him more than we had. But what
he failed to realize was that he was just our entertainment for
the night. around the melody. Enveloping its rich, low tones around
As we sat together in my tiny dorm room, the world
and time altogether stopped; the room swirled all around me
in great big calico-colored stripes, pulsing in and out of focus.
Gomez on the radio crawled out of the speakers and
everything surrounding me seemed to creep oh so slowly out
of place every time I looked away and then back again. I tried
to get up. My brain told my arm to move but it refused, then
five minutes later rose up like a piece of machinery completely
separate from all other parts of my body and brain. I took
gigantic breaths and suddenly I could breathe in an infinite
amount of oxygen. All of the air in the room, and in the
world for that matter, seemed to surge into what seemed like
my open chest cavity. I was amazed and frightened by these
two simple procedures, arm moving and lungs functioning.
My eyes were suddenly awakened and all other aspects of my
body disintegrated into the thick air that hung like burgundy
velvet curtains in the late night atmosphere. My eyes made
their way up to the top bunk, oblivious as to whether the rest
of me was still on the floor or if it had chosen to rise to the
occasion, literally. The next thing I knew I was laying on my
back in the middle of my bed analyzing the difference
between melody and harmony. Rufus and Martha Wainwright
took turns creating the most beautiful, pure sounds I had
SHORT STORIES 47
ever heard. Crisp noise, so alive, that it engaged every particle
of my existence in each pronounced syllable. The melody
dangling from the ceiling like brightly colored silk ribbons,
while the harmony, like burlesque acrobats, wrapped itself
the static-seeming colorful banners of the melody.
And my mind shrieked as my heart said, “this is love.” I was
sixteen. And then I fell asleep.
As summer bolted ahead, and I became more
accustomed to the Indiana firefly, we became famous, like the
voices emerging from my speakers, the speakers of the cars
we rode in, the speakers of his headphones.  The college boys
who had stayed over the summer knew us, knew every part
of our tanned legs, the dips in the backs of our heels as we
skipped in the rain.  Men sat in rocking chairs and called to
us from rickety porches, drooping with the weight of time
and the number of cat calls distributed to the many lucky
ladies they’d momentarily loved.  Boys and men and
individuals who had not yet identified with either stage of
maturity, approached us on a daily basis to tell us they knew
who we were.  “I know who you are, where’s your friend?” they’d
ask if either one of us was alone.  Every day was Valentine’s
Day and that was the way we liked it.  We liked it while it
was loud, while it was on the tips of everyone’s tongues, while
we were in the spotlight. 
We had a routine of going into town, flirting with
boys, shopping a bit, and then going to get food before the
evening concert, which we usually skipped anyway. Most
Photo by Anonymous
48 S H O R T S T O R IES

days we asked for a restaurant recommendation from any life sucked.  1.) Boys suck, fuck them.  2.) Alex is a short
man passing by, just to get him to talk to us. One day the midget fucker who only wants to get in our pants because
suggestion was the Trojan Horse, and after one time there we we’re hot.  3.) Marcelo thinks we’re bisexual hookers, he can
were hooked. Baklava at the Trojan Horse was $4.50.  Every go fuck himself.  4.)  Fuck everyone, fuck fuck fuck.
time we went there we got sick, but no one cared because it Later that night we took off our clothes and ran out
made things a little less dense.  It spiced up the midday mix into the Indiana rainstorm.  It was past dinner and we had
of boredom and the unsatisfying feeling of indifference.  seen Marcelo go outside. “Marcelo, fuck you, come back and
Emma was in charge of passing out the pills, before and after kiss me,” I yelled, just because there was nothing better to do. 
meals, two at bedtime and several when we woke up, one The world engulfed my words as they left my mouth, keeping
with lunch and any amount for the tiny parts of our bodies them for a later date, perhaps as an embarrassing reminder.
and minds and hearts that ached at any moment of the day.  Marcelo had been outside and we chased him down the path
“He doesn’t like us,” we agreed as she placed a pill in the next to the pond and up the hill where the road met the
center of my hand.  It didn’t matter who the “he” was or what highway entrance.  An enticing riddle, a curving paradise, a
he had done. There were too many to keep track of anyway. paralyzed board game. He turned around, smiling, his curly
We’d gotten good at taking pills without water.  “Get ready,” hair dripping wet over his face, “no, I don’t want you anymore,
she’d announce and we would both gather up as much spit as because you don’t want me and I know it.”  We let him run
we could hold in our mouths before throwing back the pills.  away while we stood there half-naked with nothing left to
On the walk home from the Trojan Horse one day, I threw say.  The forbidden fruit of boundaries pushed too far hung
up in every trash can we walked by.  Maybe because of the in the air, hovering in front of my face, a perfect bite removed
food, or maybe because we’d chosen to finish off the Codeine where my mouth had indulged, and I, for the first time, felt
that day. the weight of my nakedness.
We never talked about what we were doing or why We walked back to the dorm without saying a word. 
we were doing it.  It didn’t matter who the boys were, what I sat in the air-conditioned lobby on Emma’s comforter. The
we did with them, or what we were on. We focused on our artificial cold pierced my skin and I felt deafeningly pathetic.
self-made misery and wallowed in how horrible we said the A boy whose name begins with a “t” but who I barely
boys were.  We cried and took turns resting our heads in each remember sat down on a bench a good ten feet away from
other’s laps while the other smoothed their hair, stroking me.  Looking down at me he growled, “Damnn, girlll,” the
their head and saying, “at least you’re prettier than all of them two words encompassing an Atlanta adolescence, “you girls
combined.”  “How many times a week is it normal to have aree crazzzaayy.  You got all the boys up in here talkin’ bout
sex?” Emma would ask.  “Three to four, I guess,” I would ya’ll and you don’t even give a fuck.”  I got up with the
volunteer.   “I want a new pair of Juicy jeans.” comforter wrapped around me, took the elevator up to my
I spent most of the rest of that summer in my room where I got in bed, and sobbed with the Counting
underwear, out in the rain, learning what it meant to have Crows playing out of cheap stereo speakers. My thoughts
power over boys in mysterious ways. Each boy of the moment were too loud and I struggled to hold onto the boredom I’d
was at some point intriguing, and so we put up with his built for myself. My wall of safety torn down by my deafening
antics. actions. Self-destructive, and I was no longer too cool. My
“It’s a rolled ‘r,’” he touched my mouth as his tongue mind-blowing summer was catching up with me and I wasn’t
lightly brushed against his front teeth for the soft ‘r’ sound.  anything better than too alone.
“Mar-celo,” I said with the hardest ‘r’ I could produce, pulling “You should have come and woken me up,” Emma
away, just out of reach of his outstretched arm.  “I guess I told me in the morning while I sat in her lap.  “You can’t do
can’t say it,” I said half-playfully, half-disgusted.  That night this alone.  Neither can I.  This afternoon we’ll go buy some
he came into our room and got in bed with us.  Under Peachy-O’s and go shopping for new underwear, everything
Emma’s down comforter he touched both of us and laughed.  will be better.”  Later that day we did just that.  And it was
“Tonight the boys all talked about having a threesome with [better].
you girls.  Are you bisexual?” he thought he was being witty We held hands everywhere we went, for moral
but his words clung to images of Spanish transvestites clad support, for self-defense, and I guess, in some ways, as a
in trashy vinyl thongs.   I pushed him out of the bed and we conscious way of reminding each other that we weren’t
locked our door behind him.  It wasn’t funny anymore.  We unloved.  Sometimes I wonder if this was all a dream. 
sat in the middle of the room.  Our embarrassment hung in Sometimes I wonder why I never talk about this with anyone. 
the air as thick as the mid-July humidity and we sat on And sometimes I find the idea of this whole experience
the filthy floor, next to the spot where the carpet had been disturbingly attractive.
branded with a bright turquoise triangle in the shape of the
iron I’d left sitting there all day long.  We wrote a list of why

Love, Question Mark
U
hhh, uhhhm, uhhh,” that’s my sex noise, just
soft moaning. It’s pretty consistent.
“Yeah, how does this feel?” That’s
Alex’s. He’s a talker. He reaches around my
body and starts pinching my nipple. Then he
crawls his hand down and started toying with my..
Click, silence, footsteps
“Shhh,” my boyfriend puts his moist index finger
against my lips. I turn to face him, and see his eyes staring
intently into the darkness, in the direction of the door. They
are enlarged with fear.
Someone is in the adjacent room. Someone is
walking around the small and immaculate blue-tiled men’s
bathroom thinking intently about their next move. Someone
is pondering whether or not he should investigate the
strange noises coming from the shower, or the whereabouts
of the cushy purple plaid bench missing from the break
lounge Someone already knows what is happening, and is
just questioning if he wants a hot story to tell at parties,
or another visual with which to jack off. Someone decides
against the gossipy voyeuristic tendencies we all have, and
leaves with the shower room unexplored.
“Well that’s what happens when you try to do it
doggie style in a public restroom,” I whisper with a smile as
I rise off my knees, checking the bench for indentions and
wetness. Alex is already buttoning his shirt, on the floor, in
the corner. He turned the light on when the curious stranger
decided to leave. He still looks terrified. Most people think
it’s goofy and awkward to get caught, but Alex has a serious
SHORT STORIES 49
Lime
fear. He has these two roommates, and every time we’re in
bed, he tells me I have to be quiet, or whenever we’re done,
we have to get dressed right away. It’s almost as if he thinks
Sam and Chen are going to charge right into his bedroom
and arrest us. After lacing his shoes, he finally looks up at me;
happy to see I finished dressing. I have on my ripped blue
jeans and tight spaghetti strap top. He stares for a minute,
counting my freckles and mangled red dreads, before he
stands up and puts his arms around me. His hair smells like
sweat. It’s straight and blonde and hangs limply, while his
stubble tickles my neck. He’ll shave before work tomorrow,
and he’ll cut his hair soon too. He cuts his hair every four
months, the first day of the month.
“Do you think they’re gone?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?” he asks in his pillow talk baby voice.
He uses that same voice when he’s pissy and pouty, and also
during foreplay. It always makes my skin crawl.
“Yes.”
He opens the door a crack and peeps out like an
anxious child checking to see if his parents are in the next
room waiting with a belt. There is no one. He holds my hand
and leads us both out. “I wonder who that was.”
“What are we going to do about the bench?”
“Don’t you think we should just leave it?”
“Um, no, we should put it back,” I say in slight
disbelief.
“Well we have to make sure no one is here first. I
mean, if people see us carrying the coffee room bench down
Photo by Matt Taylor
 50 S H O R T S T O R IES
the stairs, they’re gonna have questions.” We never take the night bus. Alex tries to enjoy the outside
“They’re gonna have questions regardless. I mean world to the utmost when he’s not in that flea circus. I just
who hangs out at a giant ant farm in the middle of the night like feeling the wind against my face without having to roll
on a Friday?” down the window. It’s a nice walk. After he punches in the
“It’s a Hymenoptera lab. We’re studying social code at the graduate apartments, Alex starts heading to the
insects, in particular, invasive species and…” first floor rooms next to the pool. Apparently he thinks I was
“I know what you’re studying.” sincerely going to give him up in order to console Anita.
“Well, you should care because you’re allergic to fire “Let’s go this way,” I say and direct him to the
ants…” right. He grins like a naughty boy who just found his older
“Got it.” I’m kinda mean. I interrupt people, but brother’s porn collection. With a quickened pace we walk to
only when those certain people repeat the same sentences section C of the complex. His apartment is on the third floor.
everyday. “Anyway, we should put it back. If you’re so worried By the time the elevator reaches the second floor my tongue
about someone finding out, maybe we shouldn’t have sex in is tracing the back of his teeth, while he pins me against
public places.” the wall and feels me up. Once, we’re at the third floor and
“Shhh,” Alex looks around. “It was your idea.” the door opens, no one could guess that a practiced public
True. I give Alex an agreeing nod and head back for hookup just occurred. We walk down a dingy hallway, with
the bench. He follows me, almost picks up the other two flickering lights, and peeling wall paint. Finally, we come to
legs, and decides against it. Instead, he runs down a flight door marked 342. Alex starts struggling with his key; he can
of stairs and checks all the stations for some poor, sad, and never unlock anything. Chen opens the door for him.
lonely specimen. He finds no one and helps me with the “Dude, your phone’s been off for two freakin’ hours.
bench. Sam and I were craving some boba tea and wanted to know
“Man, I wonder who that was. I’m the only person if we could borrow your car. Where have you been?” Chen
who was supposed to work tonight.” is a cute kid. He’s 21, so he’s relatively young for a first year
“Not even the security guard?” grad student. He’s Chinese American, and thin. Even though
“Security guard? Why, so Winnie the Pooh won’t he works out every chance he gets, my 15-year-old brother
steal from our honey bees?” could bench press one and a half of him.
I smile at Alex. I cannot believe I’m dating a guy “Oh, um, we’ve just been walking around.” Alex
who references Winnie the Pooh at 24 years of age. suddenly has an idea of who could have been snooping
“You know your teeth are still whiter. I think it really around the lab.
worked.”
“How can you tell? It’s dark out.”
We had finally made it out a few minuets
ago.
“Well, I noticed inside, but I just
didn’t say anything.”
“Well, thanks.” I look at the stars
and spin underneath them. The air is cool
and crisp and there are sprinklings of
auburn leaves on the moist ground. The
Southern fall is one of the gentlest seasons.
It’s beautiful in its subtle transformation
from boiling summer to unsubstantial
winter. “How can you work in there on
a night like this?” I point to the dreadful
insect lab.
“I think of you.”
“You’re sweet.” Uh oh, I already
Art by Tamisha Anthony

know where this is going. Someone wants

to finish what we started earlier. I don’t
really have anything to do tomorrow
morning, so we might. We start walking
to the grad student apartment complex
down the street from Juviam University.

“You look nice in that shirt Jeanie.” Sam is also a
little creepy. The shirt doesn’t look nice. It’s too tight, and
partially transparent. It’s the kind of shirt you distract your
boyfriend with when he’s supposed to be in lab all night.
I don’t really mind, Alex however, can’t stand it when Sam
gives me extra attention.
“Thanks Sam.” I try to seem bothered by the
compliment and politely cross my arms over my chest. Alex’s
hurries over and puts his arm around me.
“Why do you wear clothes like that,” he snarls a
whisper in my ear.
“Because they look good on me,” I say back,
defiantly.
Alex shoots me a disapproving glare. His eyes soon
travel below my collarbone, and his expression softens.
“Do you wanna go back in my room?”
“Sure.” I say my goodnights to Chen and Sam as
we pass by the immaculate but tiny kitchen and enter the
room to the right. Alex’s bedroom is nothing but a desk and
a bed. All of his papers, books, and clothes are tucked away
in desk drawers. The only thing in his closet is his dress suit.
Normally, the shirt I bought him is kept in the closet too. He
wears it every Friday because that’s normally our date night.
Alex doesn’t buy himself anything new. He buys used and
refurbished, practical gadgets. He rarely even spends money
on me, but when he does it’s always at a restaurant he can’t
afford. I think he calculates a percentage of his income, sets
it aside for me, and then spends it all every two months on
a traveling musical and a three course meal for two. I really
appreciate that, not the food, but the theater. I’m an actress,
and a trivia expert when it comes to musicals. Granted, I’ve
only seen about seven shows, but I’ve heard soundtracks
from almost every Broadway or movie musical. We also
see a lot of movies. I work part-time at Bleakstreet Theater;
which means free tickets for us. It’s a pretty cool place,
and the room walls are littered delicately with local artist’s
paintings. It’s the type of art that looks like your three year-
old cousin could have splattered the technique, but never in
your life could you have conceived it. About once a week
Bleakstreet has midnight showings of cult classics, with post
parties in the bar on the second floor. It’s a great way to make
connections. That’s how I met Kevin. I think about Kevin a
little too much.
Considering how fast we got started in the elevator,
we hesitate a bit to get to the bed in his room. Alex takes
hours unlacing his black tennis shoes. He then takes off his
khakis and folds them into his drawer before he hangs up his
shirt. He leaves on his tighty-whiteys and meets me under
the covers. I still have on my clothes when he gets in the bed.
Alex likes to undress me. He’s not very good at it. He tries
to unbutton my jeans, while we kiss. He fails, and I arch my
back with my hips up, and in one swift movement completely
pull off my jeans. I don’t wear underwear anymore just to
SHORT STORIES 51
cut down the time spent fumbling. I’m naked first, as usual,
and he starts squeezing my breasts and biting my neck. His
hands move to my pelvis and he begins to finger me, until
I can’t help but touch his penis. He stops me before I can
take off his underwear and tells me to pick a condom from
the stash he hides in the side of his bed. He’s ridiculously
afraid of pregnancy even though I’m on the pill. Alex and
I use three types of condoms on average each time we’re
in his bed. First we have the normal lubricated Trojans
that he started buying when my panties started going off.
He comes really quickly the first time around so I always
consider that foreplay. I put the condoms on him because
Alex never learned how, it’s like a mini hand job, and I think
that’s why he never lasts very long. Next we always use these
performance enhancer condoms. Its Alex’s way of showing
he’s making a genuine effort to be a generous lover. He does
make an effort, the problem is these condoms numb his cock,
and sex just isn’t good if the other person isn’t enjoying it. So
round two always lasts really long, and we go through various
positions. I tend to get bored really quickly, and I know he
gets frustrated. There’s only just so much thrusting a person
can take, especially if their partner rarely hits the right spot.
“Sorry,” Alex mumbles as he rolls over next to me,
still involuntarily shaking.
“Don’t worry about it.” I never orgasm. Never. I don’t
really know why. Alex really tries to please me. He surprises
me with new tricks he reads from Women’s Health Magazine
almost ever other day. Apparently, alternately pulling and
pushing on a girls ass cheeks is supposed to help her orgasm,
or so I learned today. Nothing ever works, and it eats him
alive. I don’t really care. I didn’t start dating him because
I thought the sex would be good. Plus, he could make me
orgasm. We both know that. He just has some strange Y-
chromosome hang up which demands that he only uses his
penis for such things. He could easily give me a hand job,
and there’s always oral sex, but no, that’s not something he’s
willing to do. I know it’s not because he’s grossed out. He
actually has an unnaturally high tolerance for bodily hair
and the like. He doesn’t care if I haven’t brushed my teeth
or showered. He doesn’t even mind blood. I think oral and
manual sex just aren’t intimate enough for him.
“What are you thinking?” Alex turns towards me
and rubs my stomach. Our skin looks good together. Mine’s
a light caramel brown, and his is like sweet cream with a hint
of gold. We’d make one mean layered cake.
What am I thinking? I look at the ceiling. It’s white
and lumpy due to the years of painting over the damage
caused by the careless and young. I consider myself an honest
person, but I would never tell Alex I’m thinking about how
bad he is in bed.
“I like you a lot.”
Alex smiles. He’s smart enough to know that’s not
what I was thinking, but he appreciates the gesture.
52 S H O R T S T O R IES
“I like you more,” Alex says in his baby voice and
puts his left arm over his head. That’s his way of signaling me
to lie on his chest. His left arm then travels to my hair, and
his right arm goes to my waist.
We sleep for six hours. Then we use the third kind
of condom. These are the generic throwaway condoms I steal
from the health center on my way to acting class. The strange
thing about sex with Alex is, that no matter how bad it is the
day before, I always want more in about six hours. Maybe I
have a problem, or maybe I love him, which could also be a
problem. I don’t know if he loves me. He’s never said it, and
he treats me like I’m his dirty little secret. He’s had girlfriends
he loved before, but he lost his virginity to me. Before him I’d
never been with a guy for more than two months.
“Sorry I didn’t last very long.”
“It’s ok.” I think for a minute. You know, that doesn’t
matter to me. It’s enough just to be with you.” Why am I
saying this?
“Oh.” Alex faces me, looking confused. He then
closes his eyes and turns back against the wall. He’s crying.
Alex cries a lot, almost every time we fight, but we’re not
fighting now.
“Alex?”
“I don’t know… I just want to make you happy. I
just…I don’t know what else I can do… I thought maybe
I was too boring…That’s why I agreed to the lab thing, but
then...fucking Chen…I mean that could have been the first
time we both…and then, I thought maybe this morning if
I didn’t make us get dressed right away last night…maybe
you’d feel more comfortable …I just…I’m good at everything
else…I know I don’t have a lot of money, but you like the
shows, and…”
“Alex.” I lean over him, and wipe his eyes with my
fingertips.
“I try to be supportive…I don’t really understand
acting, but I know it makes you feel good…I want to make
you feel alive…I want to take care of you…”
“Alex, you give me everything I need,” I say,
completely shocked.
“No, I don’t. I don’t.” Alex stares at me for the first
time during this episode. His eyes look angry. I didn’t start
dating Alex because I thought the sex would be good. I
started dating him because we were really good friends and I
had already refused him twice. I refused him twice because I
wasn’t attracted to him. He looked too much like the lab rat
he was. I don’t have set standards of what looks good to me
in a man. Anita, my roommate, would argue that I liked artsy
guys. Directors, writers, and grown men who spend hours
every day trying to capture what it means to be oppressed
inside ones own mind with a set of tooth picks, wood glue,
and felt. Guys with questionable sexualities and drug habits,
that’s what she thinks I like. She’s wrong though. I do like
artists because they are bizarre, but also because they have
visions no else sees. Visions that they will sacrifice for no
one, visions over which they are prepared to fight, or starve.
I wish I saw the world in dots, or thickly painted swirls. I
would never want to see the world in ants. I met Alex after
my first day of classes at Juviam. It was raining outside, and
I was walking back to the apartments. He had an umbrella
and offered to walk me home. After that he walked me home
every other school day for about a month, until he finally
mustered up the courage to ask me to come over and hang
out at his place. We played cards and he told me all about
the differences between short tongued bees and parasitic
wasps. I wasn’t at all surprised when he asked me to be his
girlfriend, and I don’t think he was shocked in the least when
I said no. For a year he continued to walk me home. We both
stayed at school for the majority of vacations. We’d pick the
same week for me to visit my brother, that he would visit his
parents. We’d call each other almost every day, and sometimes
fall asleep on the phone. After that Christmas break he asked
me out again. I rejected him, probably because I didn’t want
our friendship to get sullied through a possible breakup, but
I told him, and myself, that it was because I wasn’t sexually
attracted to him. I dated an asshole named Jason for two
weeks after that. He was a slim shouldered guy with a goatee
who wanted to have sex with a black girl. I just wanted to
avoid being single, and I did for about a month. Alex helped
me recover from Jason, and a few other guys. By the summer
I was his.
“You know I think you’re sexy.”
“Yeah, I know I have no problem turning you on.
It’s just finishing the job. I have to go shave.” Alex gets up
and leaves me dumbfounded on the bed. He’s normally so
docile. Even at his angriest, he just sits in silence and cries.
He takes his green and slightly tattered bath towel out of his
desk drawer, wraps it around himself and storms out of the
room.
I remain sitting on his bed, realizing for the first
time how naked I am, how vulnerable. Anita would tell me
to put on my clothes and get the hell out because I shouldn’t
take that tone from a man. She doesn’t understand why I
spend so much time with Alex, as opposed to her, anyway.
Anita’s single. She has a lovely Argentinean nose, and eyes
like coals. She’s going to make a great doctor one day, but
she’s alone right now, like me. Teardrops hit my thighs in
increasing frequency, as I understand I could lose Alex. As
I realize that sometimes people aren’t meant to be together,
and there is nothing a person can do about it. Sometimes sex
does matter. Sometimes people are better as friends. Then
the door opens.
Alex storms in, drops his towel, and jumps me. He
sucks on my mouth like he used to when we first started
dating and he hadn’t quite remembered how to kiss. There’s
saliva everywhere, and I practically choke on his tongue.
Then he starts giving me hickeys. Alex always bites my neck,

but he’s never given me a hickey before. I recognize, as his
face lowers onto my breast, that he is half shaven. His chin
hairs scratch my nipples before he begins pulling them from
my body with his teeth. His hands clench my butt, and he
spreads my legs a little further with his elbows, preps my
vagina with his fingers, and enters me. No condom, no words,
I am completely shocked but enraptured in his aggression
at the same time. Within two minutes my head is hitting
against the headboard. Alex notices, pulls us both back, puts
one hand on my hair to protect my crown, and the other
on the headboard so he can get more leverage. I hear his
knuckles smacking against the headboard. After five more
minutes I can tell by his involuntary facial movements, and
quickening pace that he is about to cum. He doesn’t though.
He stops for a few moments, and then slowly moves inside
me. In a matter of seconds, my voice reaches higher pitches
than I thought were possible. I start to feel colors and bright
light, vibrating ringing, pulsating freezing heat, and waves
of release, deep mind numbing release. Alex holds me for 10
seconds while I convulse in a stupefied coma. Then he slowly
inches out of me still hard.
“Why’d you stop?” I say out of breath.
“I don’t want to come.”
“What?”
“We’re both pretty sweaty. You want some ice
cream?”
“What?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get it.” Alex gets off the bed and
wraps the same green towel around himself. This time as
he leaves he’s strolling, albeit slightly awkwardly, instead of
storming.
My legs are still shaking and I can’t close them
without a good bit of effort. Alex sits in the bed next to me
and hands me the bowl.
“Here we go, vanilla with butterscotch syrup. No, no,
no, I want to feed you.”
“Don’t you have work?” I strive to articulate with a
mouthful of ice cream.
“Yeah, I’m about to go, you just looked like you
might pass out, so I wanted to make sure you had some sugar
in your blood.”
“Shut up.” I smile at Alex and touch a smooth patch
on the side of his face. Alex is trying very hard not to look
too pleased with himself.
“Yeah, I missed a few spots shaving.” He winks at
me and then helps me finish the ice cream. With a kiss on
the forehead, he picks up his towel and finally leaves for the
bathroom.
After he cleans up for work, Alex waits for me to
shower and change. We walk to Juviam together, both of us
working on a Saturday. It’s 11 o’clock. I’m wearing his old
brick red sweater, with my ripped jeans, and he’s wearing
khakis and a faded red polo. We decided to match. Holding
SHORT STORIES 53
hands we amble to the Visual Arts department. He always
drops me off first. Unlike the rest of the non-descript Juviam
campus, the Visual Arts building is nice. Not because of
architecture, but because I fit inside it. It’s a place to create
things, a slightly dirty canvas. Alex turns towards me and we
kiss more rapturously than we normally do in the open air.
“Your teeth really do look good. What are you doing
today?”
“Thanks, um, just some psychedelic tortured scenes.”
Since I got an agent at the beginning of the year I’ve been
able to get paid for doing student films. That was my goal: to
get paid for making art without selling out. However, when
I auditioned the agency loved me, except for my teeth. I had
to get them whitened. It cost 99 dollars and Alex convincing
me that I wasn’t morphing into some Hollywood hopeful
with no sense of self. I got my pearly whites peroxided a
month ago and he assures me everyday that it was the right
decision. He really supports people when they’re insecure.
“Any nudity or adult content?” Alex doesn’t even
pretend he’s joking. He has a hard time trusting me, and he
doesn’t understand that sometimes kissing another actor is
appropriate in art.
“No, just torture, I’m really not looking forward to
it actually.”
“I thought you always liked working with Kevin.”
“I’m just not in the mood today, I guess.” I do
normally treasure every moment I spend with Kevin. He’s
a genius. There are few people in the world that blow me
away with their artistic creativity. He’s one of them. I don’t
know if he’ll ever amount to anything besides being a poor
indie director who daylights as a waiter. That doesn’t matter
though, not to me, or to him. Kevin rounds off at a nice six
feet. He’s got unruly brown curls that frame his face like a
cherub. All of his work has an innocence to it. It’s innocent
and abstract. In the movie we are filming today, he’s trying
to capture the unsettling frustration of standing in line. The
catch is, there’s no line, no other people. It’s really about
waiting for time to turn. Waiting for life to start, waiting for
something to happen, torture. Kevin never uses scripts. He
just lets his actors improvise. He thinks I’m talented, and he
doesn’t hand out compliments. He stretches my ability, and
allows me to imagine myself in situations I’ll never encounter.
Normally I love working with Kevin, but today I’m slightly
distracted.
“I see. Well, do you want to get dinner around six?”
“Sure,” I say with a grin. Alex’s shoulders look
broader.
“Okay, well I’ll see you later.”
“Alright, bye.”
“Bye.” Then with more intensity than I probably
deserve, Alex allows his eyes to settle on mine. Then he walks
off towards the giant ant farm.
 54 CONTINUED
(Cont’d p. 35) For me, the issue of sexual
morality comes down to my personal
belief that sex is sacred, something to
be shared with only one person, and
only after I have pledged myself to that
person for the rest of my life. Why? For
one thing, on my wedding night, the last
thing I want to hear is, “Well, that was
okay, but my last girlfriend was much
better,” or (even worse) “I think I can do
it better on my own.” Sex is a gift, and
it has a purpose. Being Protestant, I can
even comfortably suggest that its purpose
is not solely for procreation (though I
respect that point of view too). It is an
act of intimacy and communication; it
is a shared vulnerability, and something
you probably get better at with practice.
For all of these reasons, I don’t need a specific Bible verse
condemning masturbation for me to realize that sex is
probably simply better with two people!
Do I condemn Kramer or Elaine for their weakness
and inability to remain “masters of their domains”?  Not
particularly.  That isn’t my place.  Let’s say (for argument’s
sake) that masturbation is definitely a sin (even though it
isn’t specifically stated as such in the Bible).  Is it worse than
any of my sins?  I’ve disrespected my parents, worked on the
Sabbath, and lied - three thing explicitly condemned in the
Ten Commandments.  Dare I call myself less of a sinner
than men and women who masturbate, or can I accept
that all sins separate us from God, and are therefore equal
in His sight?  When it comes down to it, what another
person chooses to do with his or her body is none of my
business.  And really…who am I to judge?
(Cont’d p. 11) many times. We have decided that plural
marriages should not be legal, we have set and adjusted
the age at which a person can consent to marriage and, as
recently as 1967, we have decided that interracial marriage
is okay after all (see the case of Loving v. Virginia).
Returning to Barack Obama, a close look at his
transition agenda (http://change.gov/agenda/civil_rights_
agenda/) reveals that Obama does not support gay marriage,
but rather he “supports full civil unions that give same-sex
couples legal rights and privileges equal to those of married
Photo by Nirav Sanghani
couples.” It is entirely paradoxical to me that our first African
American President plans to pursue what is essentially, if you
follow my argument, a reincarnation of the aforementioned
doctrine of “separate but equal.” It is also ironic, considering
that Barack Obama’s own parents would have been denied
marriage on the basis of race in many states, when they
married in 1961.
What is really at stake here?
While there is and will continue to be a huge
emphasis on same-sex marriage in the gay rights movement,
I do not want to leave you with the impression that this
is all we are fighting for. In fact, many of our brothers
and sisters around the world are fighting just to survive.
Recently, the U.S. refused to sign a UN declaration
on human rights advocating for the decriminalization of
homosexuality. The declaration was proposed by France as a
way to address the fact that in over 60 countries homosexual
acts are punishable, often by execution. Joining the U.S. in its
refusal were the Vatican, China, Russia, Syria, and all of the
Arab nations. In support for this decision, U.S. officials cited
possible legal snags and“Don’t Ask,Don’tTell.”Nonetheless,gay
rights activists and human rights activists alike were outraged.
Just last month, a young woman in San Francisco was
gang raped just because she was a lesbian. Violence against
the GLBT community and especially against transgender
individuals is still quite prevalent in our society.This is something
that often goes unnoticed. And yet, it makes me wonder if it is
not a bit poetically ironic that the U.S. has aligned itself with
countries in which homosexuality is still punishable by death.
Civil rights icon Harvey Milk, now made more
famous by the movie Milk, was quoted as saying “If a bullet
should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet
door.” He was in fact assassinated on November 27, 1978 by
a fellow member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors,
Dan White. It has been just over thirty years since that
day, and while much progress has been made during those
years, there are still many allegorical closet doors keeping
the GLBT community from the full equality that Milk
and countless others before and after him have envisioned.
Therefore, it is important for us to remember that this fight is
not yet won. And until it is, I know I will continue fighting,
or die trying.
 CONTINUED 55
(Cont’d p. 20) patristic attacks on the Gnostic (Cont’d p. 32) It seemed
communities to the Malleus Maleficarum [a that my prowess knew no
medieval guide for hunting and punishing women end, that I could endlessly
‘witches’ written by two Inquisitors of the Catholic write bigger and better
Church]and its medieval witches (who were said to stories, that I could become
gain their magical powers from actual intercourse the authoress of Gundam
with the devil), the history of Christian heresy is Wing, Harry Potter, and
also a coded history of (male) sexual phobias and Lord of the Rings porn.
fears projected onto the religious other, particularly And then my
women.” (54) older brother caught me
at it. Coming up to get
JK: It’s a recipe for guilt and pathology. I’m not a fan of me for dinner, he came
the Virgin, I’m afraid. My own hope is always for internal in the room just as I was
transformation, for the traditions to change themselves typing “he could feel the
through millions of conversations and books and honest other’s cock straining in
brave people. They also need external or “outsider” critics. his pants”. My brother was
They need the study of religion. That may be naïve and sound 20, I his 15-year-old little
self-serving, but I happen to think it’s all true. Religion causes sister; I can’t even imagine
so much suffering, every day, every hour, every minute, in what he thought. Needless
this world of ours, particularly with respect to gender and to say, he was shocked.
sexuality. And yet, it can also liberate, and provide meaning, Half yelling and pointedly
power, and hope. It’s up to us. not looking at my face, he
said “I won’t tell mom and
KW: That’s a great hope to keep. dad. Just don’t… ever…
write that stuff again”. With a deft nod, I scampered away.
JK: Again, it’s why I’m in education and not in politics. I I kept that promise, for the most part. I only
don’t think you can impose things on people. But you can published one more story, felt guilty about it, and then only
change their minds. surreptitiously wrote little snippets in my room after that. I
still read a bit, but less and less as I got the feeling that I was
“This is what believers so often misunderstand about just too old for it.
history and faith: the ‘Jesus’ or ‘Mary’ (or ‘Moses’ or When I got to college (and got a faster internet
‘Muhammad’ or ‘Buddha’ or ‘Krishna’) that they connection), I tried out pornography for the first time. Surely
know did not come down to them from the sky or a visual representation of what I was writing about would be
even from an accurately recorded history. Rather, good. But I was disappointed. I didn’t care about the people
such figures and all that they represent come to us in it at all-there was no familiar feeling of lust in my mind.
from those who won the cultural wars and defined What is interesting about fan fiction is that the characters are
what would become orthodox, that is, ‘straight’ or so well-developed, so loved, that sex generally was genuinely
true. As has often been pointed out, such things hot because we understood the long wait they suffered, how
as history and religious creeds are written by the well the characters connected, how necessary the sex was for
winners. Our beliefs, for better or for worse (often them. To the writer and reader of such erotica, sexual contact
for worse, I think), thus follow closely on the heels of is just the natural extension of characters’ relationships. There
those who shouted down, threatened away, or simply was none of that special spark in porn. And yet, every time
destroyed the historical memories, sometimes even I am horny, I expect the porn to work- I expect to be turned
the bodies and persons, of the rest of us. Perhaps on, and I am thoroughly let down each time.
this is one reason why our faith traditions are And so here I was, hands playing at the bands of my
essentially oppressive when it comes to gender and pants, watching some girl with too much eyeliner get nailed
sexuality:  that is how they won, that is how they got on a chair while a guy grunted “oh yeah, yeah …wooooh”. I
Photo by Dina Yangirova

there in the first place, by oppressing and suppressing shrugged, and with a sigh, I typed in my erotica site, unzipped
the alternative voices. This is also, by the way, why my pants, and got to work.
doing real history is so often a heretical exercise.
Much of it, after all, is essentially about recovering
the voices of those who lost.” (50-51)
 56 POETRY
Metamorphosis
T o _____,
These long two years I’ve been tormented,
diseased by a venomous bite that has refused
to dislodge itself from my tendon. Most days are fine;
I sometimes go twenty-four hours without naming the
snake. I sometimes make it through a week of work without
hearing the tongue in my ear. I sometimes convince myself
I’m permanently distracted. And then.
And then I hear his voice on the drunken dialing
end of his sister’s phone. And then I see him unexpectedly
at an intermission. And the aftermath is predictable and
formulaic: vodka, tequila, anything to temporarily forget, to
have a few laughs before sighing into my pillow of poetry
and burrowing deep into my covers of remorse. It’s then
that the pain and disbelief come rushing back. I saw ____
last weekend, and I’m abruptly set back two years. I sit on
a stoop, on a bed, anywhere that will offer a place to hang
my head between my knees and melt. I’m dismantled into a
contortion that glides like silver mercury over the cold tile
floors in my bathroom. Metamorphosis: I’m a poet turning
her drawers inside out in an explosion of recycled paper,
helpless in the pursuit of diction. Metamorphosis: I’m nine
years old, overcome by this suddenly tangible specter of life
shared by a never-ending chain of unsuspecting women.
Metamorphosis: I’m a drunken idiot who desperately
attempts to analyze a movement of Bach at three in the
morning, hoping against hope that the unrequited love she’s
Photo by Soobin Sunwoo
Zara Ahmad-Post
known for so long won’t affect her interpretation in the
morning.
And so a week has gone by, and more will follow.
And I’ll go out to bars with friends, some of whom are
lovers past, some of whom radiate a quiet desire, some of
whom are brothers, and I’ll smoke a silent cigarette by my
window and shiver in my underwear, drenched in the silvery
gray light of needlessly cold March evenings. And nothing
changes. I’ll wake up at eight and go on a run, do homework,
make it to rehearsal five minutes early. Another Saturday.
Another weekend passes and his faint sent will trickle
periodically down my brain. Life goes on, and I’ll wait for
the fleeting images of the exotic yet familiar places I travel
to in unpredictable seconds. I’ll wait for the strength of his
arms, the sound of his laugh that will surge forward and
fade again in tides guided by lunar memory. And the only
sure thing I can foresee in my future are these visions, the
only thing I know I’ll always have. It’s not condemnation,
it’s comfort: it’s knowing. So here’s to the inevitable! Drink
up to what we have no way of predicting! Lift your glasses to
what can never be and take pride in what is! What else can
we do but buck up and grin in the face of our own poetically
futile purposes?
Perhaps the great equalizers in our world are the
symptoms of our desires, of love, and the aching guilt and
arching restlessness in the discomfort it all brings. And I
have very little perspective to offer, very little advice to give
as one who too frequently deals with her pain and heartbreak
in self-destructive ways. All I
know how to do is embrace my
lot, stand on the wet sand at the
shore of acidic longing and let the
alternating despair and sweetness
wash over me. Live it! To deny
ourselves feeling, to view emotion
as distraction, to refuse our joy
and sorrow, or worse, to call them
unjustified, is to actively close
ourselves off to the depths of
human emotion, human potential.
We can find the tools to bottle
them up, dismiss them hazardous
weaknesses. Or perhaps we can
use these expanses to launch into
unknown existence. Burning and
inconvenient, enlightening and
liberating. Dive in.
 POETRY 57
Ann Wang

Missed Connections
(The following were pulled from actual craigslist.com missed I saw you today. You walk like a sociopath.
connections) Whatever you were doing, exactly, you knew what you were
about.
SUBJECT I tried not to stare at your collarbones and read your tattoo.
You pass my cube almost every day - m4w (financial dis- I take off my ring every so often.
trict). A lot of people think I’m gay. My eyes are very expressive.
Your name means purple flower. I asked you for the time
Class of 1990. and now I’m wishing
To Aliza Alissa Rachelle Rachel Rochelle Adrien Adrienne I’d asked for your number.
Adrian. You didn’t tell me your name...even though I asked like
You touched my moustache in front of an empty store. twelve times...
Jeff in the black speedo. You found me at a bad time in my life.
Stella. My monkey costume makes it hard to hear clearly some-
You helped me put on my clown make-up. times.
You told me how your father was an alcoholic clown. I saw you at the zoo recently; you were late 30’s, telling
YOU’RE MEXICAN AND YOUR FRIEND IS BLACK a little kid how cute the koala bear was. Well they aren’t
AND FILIPINO. bears. They’re marsupials, and not even that closely related
I think your name was Mandy or Roberta. Cute, young, to bears. That’s about all I wanted to say.
half-breed. Actually one of the worst things for someone is solitary
You stole my jacket while I was taking a dump-- confinement and I feel like that.
I would like a smile please...I would like a warm honest
MESSAGE smile and I would probably cry.

Photo by Logan Beck

 58 POETRY
To be honest, I’m dating one of your friends, so my situa- realized that you’ve sort of been bullying me.
tion is of an unfortunate nature. You couldn’t put me first. Alcohol/cocaine/your job are first.
I guess I dodged a bullet.
CONNECTION Never: make someone else a priority when you’re only an
Your mouth was another story. option.
Later, I made us lemon blueberry loaf and some tea.
Tonight, I’ll bring the disco ball and you wear that dress. MESSAGE
I wanted to tell you, love is radical because it is a direct ac- Free: Broken Time Machine: Date: 2008-07-07, 4:33PM
tion. EDT: Never got around to fixing it, all the buttons are
I have been shaking all night. stuck so it doesn’t go in reverse only forward at normal
You make faces when you sleep. speed. Come pick it up whenever.
Is it you, is it me. I sent you a sealed wine bottle with a message in it. I hope
It’s enough as it is. you got it.
What if I love you? HOLD ME: Sad to have lost you. Can we fix that? I’m
kind of a weak-sauce quitter like that.
MESSAGE Re: HOLD ME: Hell no.
I cannot be with a woman without a conscience. Though I left the city, I still hear things. If I weren’t so fer-
“Me me me me me me me!” -You vently opposed to weakness I might be dead right now.
Emotional prejudice. I worry about you with all that’s going on in the world.
You’re cute but shallow, like a tide pool. I know we had something. I still have your belt.
So, I cannot do this love quadrangle any longer. You were always there. I’m here now.
Someone should leave you in a ditch with just your head I’M AT MY MOMS IF YOU WANT
out of the ground, a face full of syrup, an army of red ants. TO PLAY SOME CARDS
And I don’t know if I’m realistic God, I hope this works.
but I don’t want true love,
to be collateral damage.
Like ever since the shit hit the fan on 10th and Howard, I
Photo by Viju Rao
 POETRY 59

Flitting by...

Something about the candor of that first smile still holds

true
It penetrates my thoughts occasionally
Submerged beneath the emotional drama of our times
There was something primal in the way you became mine
In our very own battlefield
We kept the spark alive
Alliances, ploys, victories
We traveled to unknown dimensions in sobriety
So much to cherish, despite the uncertainty

Adrift
Afloat
Striving to be happy
What happened along the way?
There are so many things we never got to say

Or ask of each other, by the way

Time detracts and it was never meant to stay

We steered away onto a collision course
Daylight trickles into the morning sky as darkness wants
out
As I gaze out the front porch at one more brilliant sunrise
I am again hit by a wild surmise
What is mine is what I took away
When we walked in separate directions that fateful day
A treasure-trove of memories
Reverberating laughter mingled with unspoken
insecurities
More significantly, the liberty
To discover that every being is hindered by some self-
constructed boundary
Banishing which can reveal your soul’s true identity

Human nature is persistently searching for more

For some maladies there is no cure

Every experience teaches us more

Whether ordained or consciously chosen
Life is this spirit’s quest to be proven

In this complex search for possessions galore

Photo by Rachel Solnick

You try to acquire what then you most adore.

-Sarah Farid
 60 POETRY
A. Iver

Decanting Silhouettes
It starts with the looseness
of a dream. Waking—
warm sheets.
Our faces crowned The bed widening,
with smoke. Nervous empty.
nodding. Half-spoken
agreement. A shaking Making pressure
of hands, fingers, where there is
bones. no pressure.
Anticipation. It starts
A cup of coffee. with the looseness of a dream.
A fantasy and a whim. Or does it start at all?
My shuddering, The chest full
your breath. of blackbirds in flight.
The miserable
Later—the dream: auguries we keep.
hazy contour of lips and neck.
A tracery of half opened
eyes. The moment
it stops. The moment
you stop.
Photo by Soobin Sunwoo
 POETRY 61
J. Rod Pannek

Plums

for Christine

Just now
as I finished reading your
letter, where you told me
I made you feel again,
I remember I left
two plums sitting in a bag
on the kitchen table.

I open the brown bag

and by the weight of each fruit
choose the sweeter and hold it
close to my nose, inhaling
what has taken a week to develop.

With my palms down and

thumbnails together
I press into the flesh and wince
at the first squirt. Pulling apart
skin and lapping the juice.

Already, a bruise forms

and the motion of my thumbs
and tongue bring more
sweetness to the opening.

Pulling it and playing

like a child might
with a loosened tooth,
I nibble at the meat and
suck away the liquor,
tugging at the pit that stands
abruptly out from the meat,
with the tip of my tongue.

In a shiver the fruit is gone

and I can relax with my sticky fingers
and sugar coated lips
and lie in the grass outside my door
imagining you and how like a plum you must be.
Photo by Matt Taylor

Until now, I assumed

to be near you is to be with you.
But these are two different things,
the one wanting of the other.
 62
Dotted Line
For the convenience
Of the readily defined,
I drew a line,
One yellow line
Straight down the middle
_________No passing__________
Once out of the way
Enforcement expedience
deemed everything else
Fair game
Fishtailing, speeding, running lights
even drunk driving
I sat on the curb
Smug in my confidence
Of cheating the system
Photo by Jeremy Morrell
Allowing mischief
Just no passing the line.
But laxity lead to neglect
hubcaps went flying ,
Photo by Soobin Sunwoo
POETRY
skid marks burned asphalt, Lenience lead to lost cause
a hit and run. The committee deemed
I stood by, pacing, Law enforcement futile
biting my lip, eyes glued to the road
Justice was blind, And as the truck trudged onward
But she argued semantics. Erasing my authority
I stood there
Underneath all the lost
Swerving, screeching -Anonymous
The line started to smear
Fade away.
Out came the binoculars,
I almost issued a ticket.
Eventually,
A truck came inching by
And left behind,
A coat of yellow paint
Painting fresh, shiny, dotted lines
_ __ __ Passing allowed_ _ _ _ _
No one sent me the memo
Close Call
Into the silent car we quickly duck -
the slamming door sends shivers down the street -
to kiss and reach at clothes and, with some luck,
end up aflushed and panting on the seat.
But then a beam moves fast across the night,
invades with light that place where flesh convenes,
and snaps our heads towards a ghastly sight:
a Geo Metro ‘round the bend careens!
As I prepare to answer for answer for my sin
I see two bloodshot eyeballs through the pitch
and gasp aloud in fright and with chagrin
as they reveal my ex, that crazy bitch.
Thank God she didn’t crash: we got away
to live and thrive and fuck another day.
- Jeremiah Bolinsky
 POETRY 63
Loren Kwan

Woman Spread and Wide Open

You are beautiful and not

Because you’re the first, perhaps
Only woman I have seen in that position.
Not because I don’t know your name (I’ll never know).
Not because no one would ever guess it would be
You sprawled there, splayed wide open, after the penetration
Of the planes.

Not because your back is cracked and arched

Upon a xerox machine, and your ribs,
Bent, are jutting from your skin—
Not because your chest is raised and flattened,
An altar made of your sternum,
How your breasts curve
Around the cleanly shaven teacups of your armpits
For the dust to settle.

You are beautiful because I can offer you

Nothing else,
No gesture of chivalry that would have caught you
Or kept you from the eyes of men.

You are beautiful because there must be a word

That says
No, not this. Not this. Anything but this.

--9/20/2001

Written in 2001 after seeing a photo of a woman at the World Trade Center
who had fallen or jumped and died

Photo by Carolynne White

 64 POETRY
Vanessa Johnson

Accordian In His Hands

A man stands with an accordion in

his hands—
compress,
decompress;
squeeze,
release.
Photo by Jeremy Morrell

Accordingly, his eyes meet

mine.
Even without his hands, I expand
but want and wait for a press.
 POETRY 65
Klara Wojtkowska

Once Upon A Time

When I was a child, I would Was that what the journey was for then?
pluck petals off roses. They left the Garden out of respect and longing.
The first petal was soft and shy. They said,
I held it reverently, We need more.
fingers tracing the delicate veins,
fields of raised hairs, pillows of color, rivers of life. They are still searching.
Then I let it fall.
More petals followed until, In the meantime, God ate all the apples.
in a frenzy of curiosity and anger and helpless desire to Then he chopped down the tree,
know, And built a boat,
I fulfilled my infatuation And sailed away.
and the rose lay
Bare.

Why could I not, in those days –

Old enough to know disappointment lay
cradled in the petals –
Why could I not create baskets of blades,
Kiss flowers into being,
emulate Softness and Light,
Rock my folded hands and sculpt the wind,
Encourage the rose to breathe.

Maybe there was something wrong with my

impulsivity.
Acts of creation eluded me,
So I aimed to recreate the destruction of
things I could not see.
Gleaning beauty from flowers, I shredded
through them
snorting sunsets and chewing cracked lips,
Basking my loneliness in pieces of pieces.

Lying in petals of petals,

sobriety reminded me of Humanity:
The discontent, the Self stuffed in a pocket,
Impossible to pull out.
Exiled from
Completion
Like abandoned paintings, we cry
Graying sunsets sinking into skeletal gardens.

Adam and Eve couldn’t have been human

They only had one bite of the apple.
Art by Viju Rao

And they didn’t ravage the tree.

One Bite?
What remarkable self-control!
A kind of primordial anorexia!
 66 POETRY
Aaron Tallman

Young Love
Five years young and I’m still learning to live in
Atlanta
both my parents still earning salaries
and my mother has news concerning a trip:
Australia will be our new home.
a plane flies us as fast as the world is turning
for a day and a night.
I’m in business class
watching clouds that pass
and as I leave them behind like my friends
too distracted by what this trip begins
to realize what it ends.

Spirited away to a strange land

estranged by a strange style of speech
and a lack of self control.
But the girlies think I’m cute,
so I don’t notice it.

Now it’s summer and I am seventeen

driving to a choral camp in Florida
my mom lets me drive for a bit-
I settle in and we say goodbye.
I like singing, I feel at ease.
At lunch a girl offers me a seat
surprised, I accept.
We exchange names.
She’s chattering about this and that
asking me about myself
and I feel the full table
become just me and her.
I have time to think.

We see each other around

and I feel a connection grow.
I’m hesitant
But she’s trying to show me
I can trust her.

We meet up on our last night

we talk, we share our pasts
then eventually our lips touch
and then our hands. But I trust her.
I’m still hesitant. I love to sing, and her solo is perfect
But she is willing to teach. We say goodbye.
She tells me, shows me.
hands on mine, guiding, teaching. For weeks, we talk every day
Makes my hair stand on end. I plan to visit.
My mom drives me down again.
Photo by Matt Taylor

I’m concentrating, I want to learn.

At three we part We spend a day kissing.
she has a solo in the morning I remember where to touch
how to listen with my body
Before the concert, I don’t get to see her And I’m a quick learner.
she’s busy. Everyone’s busy.
 POETRY 67
The night passes. but it starts and stops though the rest of the year
She picks me up in her car We meet up again at a year later.
Her house is empty, she says The passion is there,
the science museum can wait. but the butterflies left
We’re on her bed. some time along the way.
Unzipping
unbuttoning It’s no one’s fault.
to feel closer That we didn’t have the time,
As if we might find a piece we could take to keep up a friendship at college,
and keep for ourselves Like strings our lives came apart
for when we are apart. We stopped finger stitching
I don’t pull on the strings.
She stops kissing me, I refuse to let our past unravel.
“you would, wouldn’t you?” The skepticism of my youth
I nod. tells me It wasn’t love,
While she goes to get a condom She fooled you.
I search myself But I don’t care
for that shred of doubt, Illusions as beautiful as that,
that fear of regret. I’ll live believing
But I don’t find any. I’ll still trust.
I trust her.
Love is like a perfumed mist
I’m a grown man. and if you try to illuminate it
I’m a big boy. you find yourself alone
with a sweet smell
Our romance dwindles and a memory.

Photo by Ariel Shnitzer

 68 POETRY

Revolution

It begins with the impulses of the body:

the thoughtless grooming of your kidneys,
the primal, swirling dance of your blood,
the exhilaration of the inhaled lungs, and their wisdom in letting go.

Your skeletal Christmas tree is joyfully draped in veins and nerves and meat.
It begs to slam, to scatter, to swing; to run, rear, roar, roll, rise like the sun.
The thrilling manifesto of a shooting star soars within your flamboyant hair,
Torpedoes your limbs through space, splayed in a supernova of defiance.

Move! You are not an abstraction but an obstruction!

We are the exclamation points to ourselves!
Crowing our delight and desire in the steady growth of fingernails,
Our bodies writing impulsively on our palms: Go, Go, Go.

Admired by Mountains for the mobility of your unshakability,

You are a great dilemma, the unavoidable contradiction.
Abandon the parasitic planners and the sheepish grin of clothes,
Celebrate the glitter of your skin in sunlight, it is you who sparkles.

You cannot forget yourself.

You are impenetrable and fantastically stubborn,
You cannot whisper or vanish or quail,
You are here, You are now.

-Klara Wojtkowska
Photo by Carolynne White
 POETRY 69
Kris Wettstein

Furrow
Pardon me, lovely, turn your eyes down mean to
To me, lying here, adoring you. but I did.
Those brimming eyes probably cannot see it, and your head Bubbles that surfaced, popping,
Busy cascading brown, possibly cannot fathom, like impertinent questions
But I am stuck. (How did I come to be underwater? Did I fall? Was I pushed?
Planted Am I held here? Am I trapped?)
In the furrow of a hymn. --I felt a rift in my lungs--
Untwist your brow, and don’t be troubled ( Just what is this water made of? The sky?
(trouble casts shadows, And where does it come from?
And I will brook no clouds in those azure globes) Does it emanate from the ocean?
I dug this rut myself— Or could it slink
Pacing some old preordained path from a hose turned on long ago
Until buried, like so much seed. and forgotten?)
I’m meant to be flowering, but mostly I just lie here -- a seam opened in my side, air poured out--
On wet earth, in this carved-out slit, Like a thick serpent
With my heart restless near your feet… the billowing belly of the current slid over me,
and I began to choke and struggle, kick and flail,
Lover, do not stiffen upon feeling the trenches in vain, my vision faltered like lightning bolts,
In my skin. and with my failing
They are merely the tracks and trails of melodies, breath I cried out-- “I am not a riverbed and you are not a river!”
Those psalms I sung, --thunderclaps faded in the darkness to silence--
Where words were pushed along one path, and all thoughts
Harnessed to a tune I voiced in such a tuneless way I was wakened by the incessant cawing of a circling buzzard
That its rough treading left me sore whose meandering shadow tickled my dry banks.
And bound my body in a maze The water was gone.
I’m aching for you I was left a Wadi,
To explore. (an absence,
a hole prickled and barren)
But, under a remorseless sky, unblinking,
my Love, looking ceaselessly past me.
the truth stands between us Surrounding plants turned their petals from me in shame.
like a dam, like bright angels guarding a gate, And you, lying here, testing scars with fingertips,
burning so hot I can’t bear to look, and I must burrow when you know the stark loneliness of a bed long deserted,
my head in your shoulder as I tell you that I am a riverbed. will you also turn?
Yes, there was once water, and I was filled to the hilt: For all that lives in me is one last question--
All my life I cradled it, tasted it, taken root like jimson weed,
guided it between my fertile banks, felt its enormous climbing my stomach--
weight, silt of centuries passing over in a dread solemn drift, the loneliest question of all:
until one night I bubbled. whether anything can
I didn’t grow here again. Photo by Soobin Sunwoo
70 POETRY
Unbound Circles
A cyclical hunger,
a patterned love.
The room filling with smoke—
settling, twisting,
wreathing the ceiling fan,
writhing on the floor.
On the couch, my blood
ran thickest in the skin
closest to yours, the blood
hot, pooling smoke, fingers leaking
smoke, trailing fog, appetite.
The night before
all things ran slower, the air clear
and slick with the smell of lime
oils and juniper breath,
the absurd recurrence of desire,
fog forming again and again.
I wish I could lay you down
in this poem and force
the smoke from your lungs,
gasping. But I cannot.
A. Iver
Instead, the vacancy
of our bodies, separate,
separating from themselves—
the skin flaking with the breeze.
Instead, we read our way
into one another and write
ourselves apart. A love that
knows seasons, burning low.
Only the smoke in our mouths
thickens, choking off words,
our perpetual desire.
You’d call it lust,
I’d call it the dip
and rise of your eyelashes,
the stretch of sweeping
cliffs, the curving,
the caves;
a moment’s shelter,
from minutes.
The slenderest
of hands.
Art by Melody Yenn
POST-SECRET 71
72 P O S T- S E C R E T