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From: Maia Cheli-Colando <maia>
Date: Thu, 23 Jun 2005 15:18:30 -0700
Discussions over gay/lesbian/straight "origins" often strike me a bit funny, because I believe that sex and desire have both everything to do with choice and everything to do with genetics, or rather, evolution. Sexuality and sensuality are a part of being human regardless of partner. One is still a sexual being whether or not one mates. What I want kids (and adults) to know is that there is no shame in sexuality or sensuality, and no shame in desire. Thus Pride Parades to me belong to everyone -- they celebrate knowing that who we each are as evolved sexual beings is just fine. And that our choices in whom we shall love and desire, all our lives, are our own.
This is what I want kids and ya books to reflect; this is why such books are important for everyone. So fine, we see in our magic ball that Julia is going to grow up and marry Marco, a lovely human being. Great! But I also think that it is critical that Julia not be shamed for any arousal she feels around her best friend Leanne... and that always, the decision of where to love in what ways is up to Julia. There is no endpoint, no conclusion of one's sexuality -- I see that as a Barbie notion, something "Happily stifled ever after." What is important is the continual process: that Julia partners with someone(s) who is(are) good for her and for whom she is good, and that she feels empowered in her choices all throughout her life. /Her sexuality must belong to her./ She gets to have the joy and the responsibility of her own choices and her own desires.
Celeste writes of those traveling pants that "I had read the book years ago and remembered that part of the story included one of the girls losing her virginity." I'm not sure -- and reports from teens indicate that they often don't know either -- what it means to lose one's virginity. Does it mean to be penetrated by or to penetrate the opposite sex? I don't mean to make folks uncomfortable, but these are questions that teens ask; many, for example, don't think that oral sex equals sex. (I remember the same confusion from my own teen years.) So where does that leave teens in same sex relationships? And what /is/ virginity that one can lose it? Growing up, it seemed that virginity as it was (rather vaguely) described was, for girls, being "invaded and spoiled" by a boy and for boys, finding a girl to invade. Or one might say that boys could shed their virginity, while girls lost it -- to boys.
Frankly (if I haven't been frank enough!), if penetration is the measure of virginity, I would hope that many girls would "lose" their virginity to themselves, meaning that they learn the measures and comforts of their own bodies first. Many kids will do this in their own space and time long before they are ready to engage in sexual activity with someone else, unless they are shamed away from self-exploration. It is a natural thing to do. I'd like to see that acknowledged in books, certainly by the teen years. I think that if kids are empowered to deal practically (which does not mean any less respectfully/joyfully) with their own desires, then they might make better choices of when to
"share." If we honor and love our bodies, then we are better able to honor and love someone else's, and to know when a thing is not a good thing for us.
Thus, I find virginity as it is often described to be a ridiculous and destructive concept. Materials we read in my early college years suggested that definitions of virginity arose out of the fiscal exchange of daughters and dowries. I like the Diana version we learned better: that no girl/woman should ever lose her Virginity, as meaning her ultimate authority over herself and her body. The same goes for boys and men, absolutely.
What does this mean about books? It means that I think that sex ought to be present -- not always, nor in every book, but that one's sexuality
(a character's sexuality) ought to be a basic part of the equation. It means, for me, that for YA at least, no topic regarding sexuality should be off-limits. It means, in fact, that I would greatly respect an editor or publisher who released and promoted books for young adults that dealt explicitly and lovingly with sex. Kids (and adults) get so much crap thrust at them via billboards, tv, movies, department stores, radio -- so much that destroys an ecstatic concept of being. If half the books in ya publishing dealt explicitly and intelligently with sex, they still wouldn't begin to outweigh what most children in America see and hear every day. So, the more the merrier, the happier we will be.
I hope that my frankness doesn't turn anyone away from the discussion... and that is, I guess, my point. We ought to be able to talk and write about these things without reservation or shame. We /must/ learn to talk about these things if we want our children and their children's generations to be whole.
Maia
Received on Thu 23 Jun 2005 05:18:30 PM CDT
Date: Thu, 23 Jun 2005 15:18:30 -0700
Discussions over gay/lesbian/straight "origins" often strike me a bit funny, because I believe that sex and desire have both everything to do with choice and everything to do with genetics, or rather, evolution. Sexuality and sensuality are a part of being human regardless of partner. One is still a sexual being whether or not one mates. What I want kids (and adults) to know is that there is no shame in sexuality or sensuality, and no shame in desire. Thus Pride Parades to me belong to everyone -- they celebrate knowing that who we each are as evolved sexual beings is just fine. And that our choices in whom we shall love and desire, all our lives, are our own.
This is what I want kids and ya books to reflect; this is why such books are important for everyone. So fine, we see in our magic ball that Julia is going to grow up and marry Marco, a lovely human being. Great! But I also think that it is critical that Julia not be shamed for any arousal she feels around her best friend Leanne... and that always, the decision of where to love in what ways is up to Julia. There is no endpoint, no conclusion of one's sexuality -- I see that as a Barbie notion, something "Happily stifled ever after." What is important is the continual process: that Julia partners with someone(s) who is(are) good for her and for whom she is good, and that she feels empowered in her choices all throughout her life. /Her sexuality must belong to her./ She gets to have the joy and the responsibility of her own choices and her own desires.
Celeste writes of those traveling pants that "I had read the book years ago and remembered that part of the story included one of the girls losing her virginity." I'm not sure -- and reports from teens indicate that they often don't know either -- what it means to lose one's virginity. Does it mean to be penetrated by or to penetrate the opposite sex? I don't mean to make folks uncomfortable, but these are questions that teens ask; many, for example, don't think that oral sex equals sex. (I remember the same confusion from my own teen years.) So where does that leave teens in same sex relationships? And what /is/ virginity that one can lose it? Growing up, it seemed that virginity as it was (rather vaguely) described was, for girls, being "invaded and spoiled" by a boy and for boys, finding a girl to invade. Or one might say that boys could shed their virginity, while girls lost it -- to boys.
Frankly (if I haven't been frank enough!), if penetration is the measure of virginity, I would hope that many girls would "lose" their virginity to themselves, meaning that they learn the measures and comforts of their own bodies first. Many kids will do this in their own space and time long before they are ready to engage in sexual activity with someone else, unless they are shamed away from self-exploration. It is a natural thing to do. I'd like to see that acknowledged in books, certainly by the teen years. I think that if kids are empowered to deal practically (which does not mean any less respectfully/joyfully) with their own desires, then they might make better choices of when to
"share." If we honor and love our bodies, then we are better able to honor and love someone else's, and to know when a thing is not a good thing for us.
Thus, I find virginity as it is often described to be a ridiculous and destructive concept. Materials we read in my early college years suggested that definitions of virginity arose out of the fiscal exchange of daughters and dowries. I like the Diana version we learned better: that no girl/woman should ever lose her Virginity, as meaning her ultimate authority over herself and her body. The same goes for boys and men, absolutely.
What does this mean about books? It means that I think that sex ought to be present -- not always, nor in every book, but that one's sexuality
(a character's sexuality) ought to be a basic part of the equation. It means, for me, that for YA at least, no topic regarding sexuality should be off-limits. It means, in fact, that I would greatly respect an editor or publisher who released and promoted books for young adults that dealt explicitly and lovingly with sex. Kids (and adults) get so much crap thrust at them via billboards, tv, movies, department stores, radio -- so much that destroys an ecstatic concept of being. If half the books in ya publishing dealt explicitly and intelligently with sex, they still wouldn't begin to outweigh what most children in America see and hear every day. So, the more the merrier, the happier we will be.
I hope that my frankness doesn't turn anyone away from the discussion... and that is, I guess, my point. We ought to be able to talk and write about these things without reservation or shame. We /must/ learn to talk about these things if we want our children and their children's generations to be whole.
Maia
Received on Thu 23 Jun 2005 05:18:30 PM CDT
