I took Prof. J. Michael Bailey's Human Sexuality class last quarter because it was one of those legendary Northwestern classes that everyone is supposed to take. Before starting the course, I thought it had gained its popularity simply because the topic has broad appeal. I learned, though, that the value of the class is not just that it's an engaging subject. Learning about the evolutionary, physiological, psychological and sociological factors at work challenged the way I previously thought, or, perhaps more appropriately, had not thought, about sex. I am grateful for having gained this valuable experience and concerned that the University is planning to deny it to future students.
The mystery and the stigma we wrap around sex in the name of propriety means that the topic becomes an intimidating one. In the media, sex is (forgive me for this) larger than life. It's the only thing anyone thinks is worth writing a pop song about. It's the only common ground upon which television writers were able to base the friendship of Carrie, Miranda, Samantha and Charlotte. But it's fake and uncomplicated and staged. Even in real-world interactions, the emotions at play in relationships/problematic friendships/hookups make clear-headed analysis difficult, if not impossible. Bailey's course provides a forum for this analysis.
Of course, the fact that people get very emotional when it comes to sex is the reason I'm writing this column. It's the reason why the optional after-class discussion on sexual diversity and demonstration of the use of a sex toy was met with so much hysteria and why the University just decided not to offer the class next year. I was unable to attend, but those who did were not the ones who took issue with the demonstration. Neither were the other students in Bailey's class. The course is effective because it removes those constraints that otherwise hamper intelligent discussions of sex in the rest of the world, allowing students to learn about sex in a non-threatening environment in terms of studies, theories and facts, not judgments.
Taking the class was, for me, an empowering experience. When the campus was abuzz with talk of the demonstration, I felt more than comfortable discussing it and why I felt it was appropriate in the context of the class. Before taking Human Sexuality, I would have been able to crack an immature joke and make a few puns, but I would not have felt comfortable engaging in intellectual conversations about sexual diversity. In fact, when my father called me to talk about a blog post he was writing in support of Bailey, he remarked that it was probably the first time we had ever talked about sex. That I could freely engage in that conversation with my father is purely a result of my participation in Bailey's Human Sexuality class.
I know from taking the class that when it comes to attitudes toward sex, everyone is different and that's OK. That's why students who attended the demonstration were warned of its graphic nature and given the opportunity to leave. And it's why some people, no matter what I say in this column, will always think that the demonstration was flat-out wrong. But canceling the class, removing the means for communication and discussion of this difference of attitudes, is the least academic way I can imagine of handling the issue. It is applying the personal moral standards of some people to a topic in which standards are inherently varied. More importantly, it is denying the students who will not get to take the class the opportunity to develop and be comfortable expressing their own personal boundaries and guidelines. That I am aware of and can articulate my own is completely due to my taking Prof. Bailey's Human Sexuality class.
Ali Elkin is a Medill junior. She can be reached at alielkin@gmail.com.





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