doctoral candidate in rhetoric and scientific and technical communication
sexual violence
do I look fat in these jeans?
04 years ago
In April, I wrote about the study of the sexual orientation of women and men. I discussed how we are bombarded with images of women in sexual poses from the moment we are born and how that may affect the way we view women sexually.
A co-worker recently sent me a video about advertising and the portrayal of women in advertising. It is 34 minutes long but I think it’s worth a half hour of our time. It will make you think.
One thing I do want you to consider while you watch this is the jokes made about men (the minute rice comment, for instance). While she does promote equality and advocates for less objectification of both sexes, there are still a few derogatory statements made about men — something that shouldn’t be a part of this kind of presentation.
Words are important. The way we use them along with images can give an entirely different meaning to the subject. Contextualization is everything.
this is where it all began
05 years ago
by dawn
in sexual violence
My entry into the sexual world began in San Diego. At five years old, I knew more about sex than any five year old should know.
My kindergarten was across the alley from the house we lived in. If my parents had been watching, they could have seen me at all times.
That school was one of the open types of schools, much like others that would play a part in my sexual life. All of the hallways are on the outside with doors opening into the classrooms. Everything takes place outside except class time.
The closest people to my brother and I were two boys who were a little bit older. I think one was ten and one was eight. They lived behind us in another rundown home.
These two boys were more aggressive, more rambunctious, and more worldly than my brother and I. They had been around the proverbial block.
One day, they decided I would be the latest conquest. My brother was off doing his own thing. I have no idea where my parents were – or for that matter, where anyone else was.
The school was quiet that day. It must have been a weekend or the summer. I remember it being cloudy.
I remember the cold concrete below my body. I remember how it felt against my skin. I remember the posts around us that supported the overhead hallway ceiling.
I remember hands around my arms, holding me down.
I remember a bigger boy above me, pinning the rest of my body down.
I remember my dress up around my waist and my panties down around my ankles.
I remember penetration.
That’s all I remember.