We need to talk about intimate partner violence

By Samara Gerstle

This week, Natasha Trethewey, poet and memoirist, visited Trinity University to read and discuss her work. Her pieces encompass many topics, but she focuses on two things in particular: her experience growing up in Mississippi during the Jim Crow era and the death of her mother. The latter topic got to me: Her mother died at the hands of her boyfriend after a relationship of abuse. It’s not the first time I had heard somebody discuss intimate partner violence (IPV), but it was the first time I had seen it through poetry — through the lens of a mother-daughter relationship. These are things I tend to ruminate on. I considered how universities include IPV in conversations about love and sex.

It’s not talked about nearly enough. We spend so much time discussing sexual assault on campus, and we should continue raising awareness surrounding that. It’s an incredibly prevalent issue, but it’s only one part of the bigger picture. According to the Office on Violence Against Women sexual assault is “any nonconsensual sexual act proscribed by Federal, tribal, or State law, including when the victim lacks capacity to consent.” IPV, however, is defined by the World Health Organization as “behaviour within an intimate relationship that causes physical, sexual or psychological harm, including acts of physical aggression, sexual coercion, psychological abuse and controlling behaviours.”

Though sexual assault and misconduct can occur in any environment, IPV is specific to romantic and sexual relationships. This doesn’t mean it affects fewer people. The American Association of Universities reported that 13% of American undergraduate students experienced “nonconsensual sexual contact by physical force or inability to consent” while in college in 2020. According to Knowledge Networks, 43% of college-aged women and 28% of college-aged men reported experiencing violent or abusive dating behaviors in 2011.

Clearly, IPV is a prevalent issue across all universities in America. I’m not saying that sexual assault, misconduct and rape should not be addressed on college campuses. They absolutely should be, but IPV on college campuses should be talked about just as much. We have to consider ourselves — the Trinity community — in regard to it. We aren’t an exception to the problem.

Cayley Mandadi, a sophomore Trinity student, died on Oct. 31, 2017, after her boyfriend physically assaulted her. Mandadi was a cheerleader and a member of Chi Beta Epsilon at Trinity, and the Trinity community “was packed” in Parker Chapel for her memorial service on Nov. 5, 2017. She was loved.

In September, her boyfriend had destroyed her dorm room, including breaking her laptop and throwing her clothes into trees, and Mandadi’s mother asserts that Trinity failed to respond to reports of stalking, abuse, intimidation and domestic violence. Mandadi was even held responsible for the damage to her dorm, as students are usually responsible for any damage their off-campus guest causes. I’m not placing the blame on anyone but the boyfriend. It’s hard to identify and help someone experiencing IPV, and it’s even harder to help someone when the rules don’t consider IPV. That’s why we need to start talking about it.

There are flyers all over campus about preventing sexual assault. They’re on cork boards and in bathroom stalls. We all have to take the course on Title IX regulations and helping to prevent Title IX-related situations once we begin classes. As a person in a Greek life organization, you have to attend additional training on alcohol and sexual safety at Greek events. There is so much more to be done, but we’re talking about it.

The same must be applied to IPV on college campuses. There are resources for people in violent or abusive relationships, and if you need them — for you or anyone else — use them. However, outside of offering counseling, there aren’t enough at Trinity. We must be quickly and reliably able to identify and acknowledge the signs of IPV, and to do this, we need to talk about it. We have to start having conversations about it — start providing resources on campus to IPV survivors the same way we intend to provide them to sexual assault survivors.

In the long-run, hopefully that will look like flyers pertaining to sexual assault as well as IPV and training that encompasses what a healthy relationship should look like and what the warning signs of IPV are — for both the person within and outside of the relationship. For now, though, talk about it, participate in Purple Week from Oct. 21 to 25, voice your support for implementing more resources.

Advocate for it. Talk about the subject with your friends, your professors, your family. See how you can incorporate that support in clubs you’re in. If you’re suspicious of IPV happening in a relationship you know, bring it up. If you’re experiencing any abuse or violence in your relationship, tell someone. I know it’s hard. It takes bravery, but I know Trinity. Bravery could save someone’s life.

Complete Article HERE!

No Kink-Shaming Allowed

— Why You Shouldn’t Judge Others’ Sexual Desires

Never yuck someone’s yum.

By

Kink-shaming is the act of making someone feel less than or problematic for their sexual desires. To some, the act of your partner putting a collar around your neck during sex or spanking you in the bedroom is a definite no. To others, these may be the sensual highlights of their week. That’s the beauty of individual differences.

In the world of kink, there’s always something new to explore, so approaching kink with an open mind is key. Remember, kink is consensual sexual play, so if all parties are of age, give enthusiastic consent and practice kink safely, one should refrain from shaming it.

Woman in Lace Garters Kink

 

How kink-shaming became the norm

The act of kink-shaming is rooted in centuries of sex-negative behavior. As the world has viewed sex as taboo for centuries, a whole slew of problematic behavior became the norm.

Take hysteria and the creation of the vibrator for example. In the earliest history of sex toys, vibrators were used as a method of shaming women and handling their “hysteria.” What was hysteria, you ask? Undesirable behavior like depression, lack of sexual appetite and a “tendency to cause trouble.” Doctors basically started prescribing women the use of vibrators as a “marital aid.” Essentially, if you weren’t getting your husband off, you would be prescribed a vibrator to “fix your issues.”

Why is kink-shaming bad?

Shaming others for their desires isn’t one isolated negative moment. People internalize shame and carry that weight for years. It causes emotional, social and physiological stress due to people feeling ostracized from their communities and never being able to live authentically sexually. Imagine the stress that comes with not being able to simply have a good orgasm because of shame. Kink is meant to be invigorating and freeing. Who are we to deny people of that pleasure?

Woman in Lace Garters Kink

 

How can you avoid kink-shaming?

Like with becoming more sex-positive, the best way to curve that negative thought process is by educating yourself. Educate yourself on the experiences of others, have consensual conversations with others about what they enjoy about intimacy, sex and kink if they’re comfortable.

Avoiding kink-shaming is essentially becoming more sex-positive. It’s seeking to understand, not to judge. It’s important to ask yourself why your immediate reaction to new experiences is to judge and shame.

Remember, you’re human

No one is perfect. No one is 100% unproblematic. After all, the term “get with the times” exists for a reason. We all have some learning to do, and when it comes to being sex-positive, unlearning kink-shaming is a necessary step.

Remember, kink is an act of sexual freedom and creativity, as long as you and all parties have given consent.

Complete Article HERE!