Daisy Eyed

By Anonymous

My clip clops cross the quad
Past the bench.
By Spring rings from phallic time piece
I feel old.

Daisy-eyed dream chasers
Laugh and shout.
Not knowing what it
Is to wilt.

Noticed from the bench
Big teethed grinner
Smiling with his eyes
Fixed on me.

Smile back sweetly,
Looking down discretely.
He doesn’t see that my daisy
Eyes are took.

Dandelion girls bat their daisy eyes
Chattering
About the daisy guys, as I try
To hide mine.

My body shakes with fear
Of scarlet.
I lurch in desperation to grab my
Tinted shades.

Cling to my secret
Desperately
So my daisy friends won’t
Disown me.

My clip clops cross the quad
Past the bench.
By Spring rings from a phallic time piece
I’m alone.
I feel old.

Understanding Depression

By Faye

Growing up in Christian circles, depression wasn’t something talked about; it made people uncomfortable. As a young woman struggling to find my place, I wanted to be accepted. Thus, I pretended to be happy so I could be what people wanted me to be. This turned me into a really good liar. I fooled everyone into thinking I was something that I’m not, and it was easy to do. I want people to be proud of me; my greatest fear is to disappoint people. However, I couldn’t please everyone. I loved the people I was close to, but they didn’t really know me and didn’t take the time to get past the mask. This started a resentment which turned into numbness.

My depression was a weakness. Soon I didn’t want to let anyone see my joy or sorrow, because you can’t have it both ways. If my depression was to remain in solitude, so was my joy. I suffered alone and build a mask that made me appear happy. Generally, I’m optimistic person, but this isn’t the same as being happy. Optimism became my mask.  I was such a fake. The people around me thought they saw me happy, but that wasn’t my real joy. I was just giving them what I though they want.

Today, I’ve come to accept my depression as more than a weakness. I realize that it a necessary phase in my life. This season in my life has brought a lot of sorrow, and I’ve sunk really deep into depression. My friends tell me I just need to get happy. Get happy? What does that even mean? Depression does not mean that I’m never happy. In this season of depression I’ve experience some of the happiest times of my life. Depression is not the same thing as sadness, at least not for me. Depression goes much deeper than sadness, and you can’t just lift yourself out of depression by means of happiness. For right now, depression feels ok.  It is hard to explain this to other people, but I’ll make it.

Sex, Purity and Jolly Ranchers

The writer of this post wishes to remain anonymous. She explores the concept of purity in evangelical culture and in her own life. We appreciate her willingness to tell her story.

Our campus is a pure place regarding sexuality. Outside of the sex talk that happens once a year, I do not feel safe to talk about sex or sexuality on this campus. During candid conversations about sex, everyone expects you to say the “right, pure” answer and basically be perfect, saving all types of sex for marriage. The concept of purity on George Fox University campus sparked my ideas for this post.

Last summer, I was hired on as a counselor at a camp. For training at this camp, the girls and boys were split off for a purity talk. Before beginning the talk, the head counselor, we’ll call her Jill, handed out jolly ranchers to everyone. Then, she started a story of a young girl reaching adulthood and her interactions with sexuality. At the end of Jill’s spiel, she told us to take the jolly ranchers out of our mouth. Jill told us the amount of candy we had left resembled our purity we had left for our husband.

Let’s get something straight here I have had sexual experiences. Depending on what your definition of sex is, I am not a virgin. My definition of sex, fourth base, is intercourse. However, many people in Christian circles say oral interactions, third base, is sex and you are not a virgin because of it. This exercise that Jill walked us through did not feel as redemptive as it could have been because what if you are that girl in the group, like me, who has been to fourth or third base or whatever?

Well, I am here to tell you that I am not proud of the sexual experiences I have taken part in. However, these experiences are part of my journey in finding a healthy sexuality and helped me to understand why God has made me the person I am. I had a friend with benefits for over a year throughout high school. Our relationship entitled sexual favors for each other during the night hours. Our relationship included making out, touching and feeling, and oral sex in his car and in parks. It was fun and I was sexually satisfied by it. I’m not going to lie; we were so close to having sex a number of times. However, we made rules in the beginning and he held to them. I was the one who did not want to have sex because I knew the risks and I wanted to save it for my husband. When our relationship found closure, I found God to fill the gap that he was filling. I still have an emotional connection to him because of our intimacies we shared together even though he has a girlfriend and appears to be very happy. I still have some contact with him via Facebook and we have established healthy boundaries. 

Having these sexual experiences and looking back on Jill’s jolly ranchers symbolization of sexuality, I disagree with the entire concept. If it were true, my jolly rancher would have been dissolved at the age of 14 years old. But now God has found me in my lustful actions. The friend with benefits was the longest standing sexual partner that I had; however, there was so many other guys that I hooked up with to satisfy myself.  God was able to cleanse my soul and life as long as I followed Him. I choose to harness my sexuality instead of flaunt it for anyone who wanted to have it. I have never been a licked on, tiny piece of candy or wrapper to be discarded in God’s eyes. I am whole.

What does Femininity Mean?

 I often get asked, “Why don’t you wear make-up?” People are usually stunned when my reply is “I’m too lazy!” Or my absolute favorite question I get asked more often than I would like to is this: “why don’t you wear dresses and high heels?” I’ll admit it is indeed a rare sight if you spot me wearing anything other than jeans, a t-shirt, and zip up hood paired with the latest comfortable shoes, which has lately been either my moccasins or Toms. It is true: you usually will not catch me dressed in a short mini skirt or a dress unless it’s a very important occasion and I mean VERY.

I give my sincerest apologizes by stating I’d rather not trek in a pair of heels and a cute dress across the quad in the pouring rain, on muddy sidewalks, and puddles simply for the pure sake of beauty. I blame my lack of beauty etiquette on my rational mind of wanting to be warm and comfortable, shuttling from class after class rather than being cold with my bare legs exposed and uncomfortable in heels. I suppose I never really accepted the notion of “beauty is pain.” Honestly, why must I suffer to be perceived as beautiful or to simply look cute?

I admit I do like make-up, nail polish and the color pink as much as the next girl but I do not think these items equate or compose an authentic girl or woman. It is great if women enjoy getting dressed up or “dolled up.” However, it is not necessary in order for women to achieve the beauty that does not exist without the need of make-up as often as our culture and peers tell us. I hope that every woman and girl knows she is beautiful just as she is, without the need of layered make-up, dresses, countless of pairs of shoes and matching hand bags. Nor should women be perceived as tomboys if they choose to wear jeans and sneakers. Women should feel completely free in wearing whatever it is they feel comfortable wearing without their gender going into question.

I must point out that I don’t think there is anything wrong with wearing a dress or wearing make-up but I am suggesting that there should not be anything wrong with women who choose not to dress up daily nor should there be an unspoken measurement on our femininity. Our gender identities should not be based on how we choose to exercise our vanity but instead on how we feel about ourselves. (DeLisa Thomas)

 

Finding Hope

The writer of this post wishes to remain anonymous. She narrates her experience with anorexia, a disease that afflicts a number of women and men, at Christian colleges and elsewhere. We appreciate her willingness to tell her story.

Last year, a struggle with anorexia entered my life. I never thought that an eating disorder would be a part of my life, but I found myself becoming obsessed with counting calories and working out as much as I could to lose weight. It was one of the darkest seasons of my life.

Though I am climbing the other side of that deep valley with help from counseling and support, there are days that I struggle with eating, and living in the truth of who God says I am - that my value is not found in how I look and not determined by how I feel. I wrote this poem as I neared the end of my junior year on a day when I was given hope. I was in a place of feeling so tired of fighting, and God ministered to me in that place, giving me the hope that one day I would leave that dark place, a hope I could not muster on my own. He reassured me that I was not alone, and that I did not have to fight my battle alone.

“Hope”

Flashes of hope

They catch my eye

When I am feeling so lost

And empty inside

They reflect some light

On this cold dark place

They show me the sky

When my life is clouded with rain

I thought I was lost

I thought I was gone

I thought of all it would cost

And I was incredibly wrong

Hope found me

In the midst of this darkness

Hope found me

When I couldn’t find a way out of this mess

I still feel entrenched

I still feel the battle

I still feel the warring

And I know that it’s not over

But what I do know

What I know to be true

That I am not alone

I am walking with You

There are moments I see

There are moments I envision

I can see myself free

And out of this prison

I want those parts to grow

I want those ideas to shine

I want myself to know

That victory is mine

Though I feel so very tired

And it’s not often I can see this grace

I can feel it in this moment

And it doesn’t seem so far away

I know there’s work to do

And I know it’s a process filled way

But that small flash of hope

Will get me through this day

If you are struggling with an eating disorder, I encourage you to tell someone, someone you trust and who can support you in getting help that you need. You do not need to suffer in isolation and in shame any longer. You can be free.

Welcome to The Talk

The Sex Talk, an event hosted by the George Fox University’s Spiritual Life Office, addresses various aspects of humanity sexuality. There are separate panels for men and women, but the event is held during the same time: same day, same hour, with faculty members serving as panel members and offering their testimonies.

After hearing the panelists’ stories, the attendees get the opportunity to ask anonymous questions, written on index cards, about their personal inquires related to the topics of sexuality, gender, and life at a Christian college.

Well, during my work study shift at the Spiritual Life Office, I was given the task of typing up the Sex Talk questions. As I typed up the questions written on the index cards, I encountered a paradox of emotions. On one side, I thought the questions that many women wanted to ask were laughter-provoking and reflected the taboo nature of conversing about female sensuality. And while many questions were written to make some of the faculty panelists blush, the other side of the paradox I encountered while typing was that a lot of the probing questions went unanswered that night.

These weren’t questions that could be answered at one annual George Fox Sex Talk. These questions seemed like they should be thought about and reflected on in a continued dialogue, allowing women with various perspectives to give their feedback on the experience of being created women.

With that fervency to prompt more discussion, I sought out Abigail Rine, a literature professor who was on the panel that night, and asked her what could be done. She directed me to Melanie Mock, another literature professor, and we corresponded about setting up a blog where we could continue vocalizing our questions, answers, and stories.

I had always seen the sex talk as a means for the women on our campus to discuss the relationship we have with God and humanity through our sexuality. But the problem is, I know that many women, younger and older, yearn to talk about these things and listen to the experiences of other women, and not for just one night.

So this blog was created to present a place where others could listen and have conversations about sexuality, gender, and life at a Christian college. A group of us have decided to dedicate our time to this vision of seeing women gather together in the willingness to be vulnerable and open about our views in an anonymous and safe place.

At the beginning of the Sex Talk, a panelist prayed for the night to become the foundation for further dialogue. That night created the safe space for women to have an opportunity to address questions about sex and participate in conversation about the many complications of relationships. Now, it’ll be nice to broaden the content of our conversation and hear what anyone willing to speak has to say about their views on sexuality, gender, and life at a Christian college. Even if you have just want to share your own story and address themes and motifs important to you about the experiences in your life, please feel free to express yourself so that we can continue a fruitful conversation through this blog: about the things important to you and probably, more importantly, to others you have yet to meet.

Love, Joy, and Peace,

Mona (Kaa'Mona Roland-Browne)