Sex: Old News and Youthful Problems

What is who supposed to want when? That's the convoluted question the two subjects of this post are trying to answer. This holiday weekend I was [too lazy] too busy, to get much studying done, but I did read an excellent NY Times article by Daniel Bergner, author of The Other Side of Desire, and watch a video posted by Maymay, who is among other things a sex-positive activist doing a lot of good, interesting work.

In "When Desire Fades," Bergner discusses the pathology and treatment of low sex-drive in middle-aged women. As sexologist Lori Brotto demonstrates how increased mindfulness can help women feel more sexual, Bergner's intimate writing-style meanders between the growth of Brotto's own interest in sex research to the unique and often discomfiting cases of her patients. I read Bergner's book on sexuality over the summer, and likewise found the sympathy and candor with which he treated each case-study, which included a pedophile and a foot-fetishist, as much dangerous and off-putting as the stories were enlightening. Likewise in this article, I first wonder, with a little bit of embarrassment and prudishness, why he must mention a patient "who lost her virginity in her 50s" or an artist who becomes aroused from painting, before I am grateful that he takes those risks. Addressing desire is dangerous enough in an academic or journalistic setting (see this eye-opening interview with Benoit Denizet-Lewis for more on the stigma surrounding such endeavors); addressing lack of desire, and "what women want to want" should be all the more difficult, but Bergner does it with finesse.

On a different note, in the video posted below, maymay addresses the fear of youth sexuality at KinkForAll Washington DC. Though the demographic at issue for him is a far cry from the middle-aged women Bergner and Brotto interview, maymay hits upon several common themes surrounding the damaging way society presents sexuality information:

Sexual Adultism - KinkForAll Washington DC from maymay on Vimeo.

I'm interested in the ways both of these news items highlight the precarious position the idea of sex holds in today's popular imagination. Bergner's essay notes that the DSM's description of hypoactive sexual desire disorder fails to "reckon with women as complex sexual beings,"—instead using false and limiting assumptions about how women should be sexual to judge disorder—and maymay's lecture demonstrates how youth are denied access to positive cultural assumptions about sex and sexuality solely because of age and a strong culture of sexual protectionism.

Though the dichotomy between the desired and the taboo is old news, sex has only recently (slowly, over the last 40 years) become something that people young and old are expected to be having, and expected to want to be having— but not talking or thinking too hard about. We all know the script; it's supposed to be charming, breathy, seamless, steamy, and, if you talk to a rapper or the writers of Gossip Girl, there's supposed to be a lot of it. And though maymay's points are prescient, youth are not altogether restrained from information about sex. In fact, information is everywhere; it's just that the only message being consistently conveyed is, to paraphrase one particularly inappropriate grandfather of popular culture, who embodies enough social stigma against desire and age on his own: "Fuck a lot of women."

So why is it that only now (and with a lot of push-back from conservative opponents of everything from comprehensive sex-education to erotica and non-normative sexuality), that we are beginning to talk about the spectrum of issues that can constitute or deny satisfaction? Possibly because we now know that the script breaks down, and as Bergner and maymay both argue, it breaks down in the predictable places where we have a gap in collective knowledge about what we want and why. It's gap stretched even further by the willful denial that variety exists, that people's wants and needs can and should vary, and the tendency to pathologize what we are afraid to accept, and medicate what we are afraid to explain.

Cheers to the journalists and activists who want to change this culture.


UPDATE: The solutions to these problems might just be in the kitchen! ...Probably not, but just in case, here's the cover of the cutest holiday gift I bought yesterday for someone special when he gets back to the States (Shh, don't tell!)

InQue(e)ry: So, we queered Ida Noyes and tied people up; Now what?

I would not have attended Que(e)ry two years ago.

In fact, I probably would not have taken one iota of interest in the "radical, queer, arts convergence"- radical-anarchist-radical-takeover of Ida Noyes Hall that took place in all its glittery, gender binary-shattering (did I mention radical?) glory last Saturday. I just didn't care what anyone had to say about gender and sexuality—These categories just exist, okay? I get it, enough!—And especially not someone with a pink mohawk. Also, I hate wearing make-up and glitter. But that's just me.

But a lot has changed for me since high school, when I was embarrassed to admit I was studying "Gender and Sexuality in Latin American Literature" at UC San Diego; when less than a year ago a certain sociology professor prodded me to justify why I thought "Problems in the Study of Sexuality" would be a useful addition to my Autumn Quarter course schedule, and I lied to my parents that I was actually taking "just an introductory English course" to fill my fourth slot and prevent more awkward conversations.

Now I conspire to get people tied up in the Third Floor Theater and eat vegan food with my hands on occasion. Go figure.

The thing is, I've thought about this a lot, the "where do desires come from?" question, and "why do I expect people to relate to each other in cerain ways?" and "what in me wants to be normal?" I don't have any good answers of course; but since I landed here as a freshman, many personal events, friendships and other experiences outside of academia have led me to appreciate these questions and recognize that the many possible answers are far from obvious—no where near as simple as we might have them be.

I think gender and sexuality are enormous, and enormously important, concepts that we should all pay more attention to. I am dying to hear more people my age talk about the assumptions that we all make about the way men and women should appear, behave, dress, make love to each other—assumptions about sexuality that go beyond what is heterosexual and what is homosexual to include a clusterfuck of kinks, fetishes and preferences.

We don't spend enough time acknowledging that desire exists, power exists, relationship categories are varied and changing, "normal" is a fallacy... If you have to stage an impromptu performance or sit people in a make-up chair and paint their faces to examine gender, to examine behavior, then please do it.

I'm not saying my peers need to drop their Adam Smiths and their Platos and take up reading Gail Rubin and Michael Warner, though these are theorists I have come to love by happy accident. They can just hang out with me and my queer, kinky friends sometime...

But much about Que(e)ry would put off the average UChicago student (let's face it, guys, it takes a lot of dessert food to get us out of our study caves on a given night). First of all, it was an all-day event conceived of, produced, organized and unorganized by a small group of campus activists who emphasized anarchy, art-making, veganism, and using the adjective "radical" every other sentence, as forms of resistance. This broad take on how to resist norms was its strength, but also made the party inaccessible to the people I most want to talk to, who don't already believe these concepts are discussion worthy.

With workshops on "BDSM as Bio-political Resistance" (I didn't attend, but I heard the presenter read a little Foucault out loud, and screamed a lot) and "Radical Cheerleading," the event was like a big inside joke; a ritualistic prank against all sorts of social conventions just a few steps above TP-ing the president's house, that only the iniated could understand. In fact, if you weren't laughing and screaming along, you might develop the uncomfortable feeling that you just don't get the punch-line.

Some workshops were more productive than this (and by productive, I mean accessible to a wide audience not already versed in the ethos of sex positive, queer and kink communities. Other attendees probably had different definitions of productive, or didn't make being "productive" a priority at all): "Practical Non-Monogamy," by Scathe, a presenter I really respect, was one of them. My boyfriend's praise sums it up: "He didn't assume that we all wanted to be polyamorous... he didn't try to convince us that open relationships are great for everybody, if we would only get rid of our hang-ups, which is an argument I've heard. They're not!" it was practical. It didn't make any assumptions.

I wanted people to stop assuming things because I'm a girl; dating a boy; really bossy; don't wear makeup; etc. etc. But this means I, and the sex positive communities around me, need to stop assuming that people share in common the same social leanings and political agenda, or would if only they spent the afternoon with us, some pot and some Judith Butler. If I want everyone to take gender fluidity and alternate sexuality seriously, then I'm going to have to start explaining this stuff to them where their understanding stops, rather than ask them to make the mental leap all the way to an anarchist arts convergence, and what it takes to feel comfortable in such a space.

The workshop I organized with two lovely, lovely people, Vincenza and Wren, possibly had one of the tamer titles descriptions: you can look it up, it was called "Intro to Bondage." What we like about rope, what you might like about rope. Some practical, hands on demonstrations. Hopefully some fun. I didn't ask anyone to hog-tie the patriarchy or wrap their heads around Foucault's biopower or Agamben, and I'd like to think that's why we had close to 30 attendees.

I'd also like to think that this practical ethos will serve future sex positive, kink positive events on campus well, if we can get some started.

Thanks, Que(e)ry, for making me feel more supported than ever before on this campus; now, any suggestions to keep the inquiries going?