“
Call
your
mom,”
he
said,
followed
by
a
long, drawn-out pause.
“Everybody.” Only after a raise
of the eyebrows and direct eye
contact with every individual in
the audience did he continue.
“I’ve told this (to) like a billion
people or so. Call your mom, call
your dad. If you’re lucky enough
to have a parent or two alive
on this planet, call them. Don’t
text, don’t email, call them on
the phone and tell them you love
them and thank them and listen
to them for as long as they want
to talk to you.” Those were the
words of American actor J.K.
Simmons after he won an Oscar
in 2015.
A few weeks ago, we saw two
Oscar winners, Michelle Yeoh
and Ke Huy Quan, once again
show their parents some love
while receiving their awards.
In both of their acceptance
speeches, they talk about their
mothers, who, at the ripe old age
of 84 (yes, both of their mothers
are 84), stayed up into the middle
of the night just to watch their
children take American cinema’s
biggest stage.
Now, I’m well aware that
movie stars aren’t really the
best source of advice for the
“regular”
person,
mostly
because they are difficult to
relate to. Most of them live a
life of luxury, bereft of a lot of
the struggles that lower-income
groups face every day. However,
as college students, one common
ground we may find with these
superstars is the shared struggle
of being away from home at
a young age. Regardless of
whether you’re an international
student who left their country
to be here or a resident of the
United States, we all have a home
and a community outside of this
college campus that represents a
place of guidance, security and
comfort.
When Simmons implored us
to call our mothers, I think that
is what he was referring to —
the people we associate with
home. People who you’re so
close to that you don’t feel the
need to put any effort into the
relationship, because no matter
what, they’ll be there for you.
More importantly, calling your
mother is the simple answer to a
commonly-dealt-with question:
How can I take care of my mental
health? Not only is mental health
one of a college student’s biggest
concerns, but it’s also an issue
that tends to arise in our lives
regularly,
and
requires
our
utmost care and attention.
When I’m ready to give up on
my computer science degree, as
the only person who will never
lose faith in my abilities, it’s my
mother who reminds me what
I am capable of. When I feel
aimless, like I’m not carving out
the best path for my future, she
is the first to remind me not to
worry and to believe in myself.
When I feel tired and scared, as
I, and I’m sure many did, during
the week of the Michigan State
University
shooting
and
on
countless other occasions during
the school year, she is the one
there to just listen and make me
feel safe. When you were a child,
you’d share what happened at
school with your mother, right?
You’d do it almost every day,
right? So why stop? The answer
to so many of our mental health
problems is just one phone call
away and we don’t even realize
it.
This role doesn’t have to be
filled by a mother. It can be
anyone who you think of when
you think of home — a teacher,
a relative or a coach. Lean on
them for support and remember
to return the favor. As Simmons
said, “Love them and thank them
and listen to them for as long as
they want to talk to you.” Even
if all that person talks about
are the same boring stories on
repeat, just listen. I’m sure it
means the world to them.
I once heard someone describe
home as the place where people
notice when you’re not there.
Identify those people and, as
the title says, call them. It’ll be
the single best decision you ever
make in your college life. It won’t
just make them happy, it will
brighten up your day as well.
On a campus where life
is dictated by your Google
Calendar (I know mine is), set
aside 30 minutes every day for
this phone call. Schedule it, pick
a special color for it and make
sure it’s set to “repeat daily.” Do
what you have to do to ensure
that regardless of how much
work you have, you call your
mother.
F
rom “hussy,” “floozy,”
“tramp” and “tart,” to
“hoe,” “skank,” “whore”
and “slut,” we certainly have
no shortage of names to call
a promiscuous woman. The
word “whore” was first used
in the 16th century to refer to
a prostitute or harlot, while
“slutte” was first used in the
15th century to describe a
slovenly, untidy woman. From
old Germanic dialects, to Old
and Middle English to now,
words like these have continued
to develop in order to comment
on and police womens’ sexual
behavior.
While these terms have been
created and continually used
toward sexist ends, they have
been similarly adopted by the
group these words are most
often directed at: women. This
can, in some cases, take the
form of women using the same
misogynistic
terms
against
other women. Even when used
by women, these words and their
connotations just can’t seem
to be shaken, and thus, many
have called to make the move to
abandon them altogether. In the
words of Tina Fey’s character
Ms. Norbury from “Mean Girls,”
“You all have got to stop calling
each other sluts and whores. It
just makes it ok for guys to call
you sluts and whores.”
Beyond
cruel
intent,
however,
these
words
have
been increasingly used as terms
of endearment, as a means of
reclamation. For some, using
these terms around trusted
friends is a way of taking
away the strength of their
sexist
connotations.
“Slut”
has specifically been used to
platform protests against sexual
violence
via
the
SlutWalks,
which arose in response to a
Toronto police officer’s advice
“to avoid dressing as sluts.”
“Whore,”
“slut”
and
all
their
synonyms
are
words
with
centuries
of
sexist,
deprecating
baggage.
To
overcome objectification and
the expectation to be both
appealing and pure, we can
rewrite the definition of these
words and turn them into
compliments or a title of power.
A slut is no longer a slovenly,
untidy woman, but instead a
woman who understands her
power and holds the reins of her
sexuality.
But, counter to these terms’
judgment of female sexuality
are words that scrutinize a lack
thereof. On the other side of
the same sexist coin, terms like
“prude” and “frigid” criticize
a woman’s disinterest in or
refusal of sex — but they remain
largely
abandoned
by
this
movement of reclamation.
Compared
to
words
connoting sexual promiscuity,
words
connoting
little
to
no
sexual
experience,
like
“prude,”
have
taken
on
a
less
desirable
meaning.
To
be sexually liberated means
shirking the confines of a
female sexuality and instead
becoming
an
empowered
woman.
This
empowered
woman,
unencumbered
and
even emboldened by shame, is in
control of her sexuality in a way
that can only be demonstrated
by sexual prowess.
However,
this
creates
a
double standard of sexist slurs.
At one end stands the weak and
demure woman — the prude
— who is out of touch with her
power and sexuality. At the
other end is the courageous,
powerful
slut
who
breaks
free from her cage of sexual
expectations by having as much
sex as she wants. One could be
forgiven for believing that the
dichotomy between the slut
and the prude is equal to that
between
the
repressed
and
liberated woman, though that’s
far from the actual case.
Historically,
it
was
advantageous in some respects
to ostensibly be a prude. From
Aristotle
to
contemporary
Catholicism,
prudence
has
remained
a
cardinal
virtue
stressed particularly for young
women. When taken to the
extreme, a strong emphasis
on
prudence
manifests
in
harmful teachings like purity
culture. While prudence on
its own is far from damaging
in how it values caution and
thoughtfulness, both perceived
and active prudence are not
fully protective measures. As
evidenced by stories in the
wake of the #MeToo movement,
simply refusing sex is not
always the most accessible way
of eluding a dangerous situation
of sexual assault.
Under the scrutinizing eyes
of
an
objectifying
society,
women have always had to
walk a fine line between saint
and temptress. If reclaiming
terms like “whore” and “slut”
will
truly
reallocate
power
to women coming into their
sexual identities, then we also
must expand our vocabulary of
sexual empowerment to include
“prude,” too.
If
a
sexually
empowered
woman is in control of her
sexuality, then it’s imperative
to recognize that not having
sex
falls
under
such
an
umbrella. Sex may be refused
for a myriad of reasons, ranging
from asexuality to religious
objections to simple disinterest.
These reasons don’t add up to
a repressed woman or a poor
feminist, but instead a woman
making informed decisions for
herself.
Whether a “whore” or a “prude,”
whether “slutty” or “frigid,” it’s
essential to recognize that these are
only terms, and fluid ones at that,
defining only one facet of the self.
One may go from sex and sex and
sex one week to little to no sexual
interest the very next, and can you
really put labels to that? With an
expansion and reclamation of the
word, being a prude doesn’t have to
mean being modest or prim — it can
mean knowing sex isn’t a sole means
of empowerment through setting
healthy boundaries for oneself.
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
10 — Wednesday, March 29, 2023
Design by Sara Fang
Reclaim and embrace being a prude
Call your mother
AUDRA WOEHLE
Opinion Columnist
RUSHABH SHAH
Opinion Columnist
Thank you Karrie
Opinion