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May
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4 comments:
Vaginas, themselves, are never a problem. Never.
Being disrespectful or abusive to a vagina in front of my kid- yeah I have a problem with that. Just as disrespect or abuse of a penis would bother me. It should go without saying that I don't want abuse of any part of a person modeled for my kid- not yet. He's got to learn the rules first before he can figure out how to break them.
My kid deserves happy genitals.
Define disrespectful and abusive acts to the genitalia. The possibilities are across the spectrum. A great number think having your genitalia photographed is disrespectful, perhaps even a sign of abuse. Ask a Baptist or a Muslim. What do YOU mean?
That is an excellent question and I knew you were going to ask it. I wish I had a real answer for it. I've been searching for that answer for years and years as I am extrememly conflicted about it. I've been photographed nude, myself, and I found it to be a wonderful experience. But I didn't need to put on any fantasy persona or represent myself as a toy for someone else's amusement. It was just me with a bowl of cookie dough lounging on the floor like I might on any lazy, naked Sunday morning (without kids-boys can get a little grabby, Oedipal and weird after the age of 3). I love bodies. The body is, in itself, a work of art to me. I just find it objectionable when a body is presented without soul, touch, or humanity. I know that is a rather vague and troubling definition- one that I would not dare to legislate upon. I'm not in favor of that. I am in favor of a little personal accountablity and restraint. We all have some understanding of objectification. My son has seen nudes. I have them in my home on my walls and on my bookshelves. But I get to choose them. I don't get to choose the scantily clad ladies on billboards with vacant, bedroom expressions begging my four and a half year old son to do something to them that he doesn't even understand yet. I don't get to choose what message that relays to me about my self worth because boy cut panties just don't look good on me and I don't wander around all day looking like a cat in heat.
I think there are two reasons for the meat obsession in our culture. First, I think it is a logical extension of our materialistic society. Acquisition. Cars, money, drugs, bodies...not necessarily in that order. Acquisitiion is not appreciation. It is not love. It is not safety. I wish we would not confuse ourselves. Second, I think we want to see scantily clad skinny women because they are freak shows. They are so out of the norm that we just can't stop staring, like when you were a kid and you first saw a guy with a real eye patch. What the hell could that eye socket look like under there? Maybe if I stare hard enough, I'll understand it. Third, I think we hate ourselves. Both women and men. Studies show body hatred is becoming a real issue with the peacocks as well as with the peahens. In New York, it is impossible to escape.
I can keep the beaver shots and the cockmasters away from my kid for a few years. If you like them, fine. I don't really care. My kid is going to find them eventually and it is my job to teach him what I want him to know first. But it's not like when I was a kid and I found "Our Bodies, Our Selves" on my Mom's "secret" bookshelf (planted there, I am certain). That was a rather gentle introduction, and then I discovered we had the Spice channel (wahoo! jackpot!), but now my son is asking me questions at four and a half that didn't even occur to me until I was much older. His friends are far more advanced and it is easier to accidently discover girls getting rammed by horse cock than it is to find out in which order the new Scooby-Doos were produced. Yes, I am worried. I'm worried he will find the hard, crazy stuff before he has the tools and the maturity to process it. Do I think it will turn him into a psycho? Hardly. At least, I hope not. But, yeah. I feel alone in this one.
Fair enough. My dad still claims responsibility for my tastes in women because during my first year of life he would take me to the park during the day. He worked night shift at the time. While there he would point out the 'hot' women and the 'undesirables'. Later he taught me how to tell if a woman was wearing a front hook, back hook, or (joy of joys) no bra at all.
But can a parent really claim responsibility for turning their child into a raving pervo? My dad takes pride in thinking so.
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