“

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

