Parent's Weekend
Dear Somebody,
Have you ever felt that while everyone you know agrees that you are wrong, they just can’t agree what part of you is wrong? And you just feel sort of helpless, not wanting to upset anyone, but instead not being able to please anyone? My college often tells us that it’s important to be your own person, develop your own personality and opinions; yet sometimes when that person isn’t what your family likes, it’s hard. Sometimes when that person isn’t what the college wants, it’s hard. And what about when neither the college nor the family likes you?
You probably know there must be a reason for my saying this, so let me explain a little what happened. It all started last Saturday.
My parents, like so many parents, are wonderful people who love their children. As I was the first of their children to leave for college, they were quite emotional about parting from me, and miss me very much. They went to an all-guinea pig college back in a different era, met, and have lived a happy, sheltered life ever since, working in a rural town with their friends and family all forming a close community. My mother enjoy theater, but sticks largely to Jane Austen-eque reproductions; if the play requires fewer clothes than you would wear to Queen Victoria’s church, the local acting company will refuse to touch it. My father in addition to being something of an amateur chef, makes a habit of fishing. Ignoring the slight disapproval of my mother, he heads over on Thursday nights to his best friend’s house to play poker for pennies. He is quite good, and though he would never admit it, he could have become quite a professional. I’m sure that seeing him bringing home his jar full of old, worthless pennies makes my mother just a little pleased.
Neither of my parents are intellectuals. The world of books and dusty pages holds little interest to them, and they were mystified at my interest in anything which could be found between two covers; and to speak the truth, though they have come to accept it and actually admire this difference in their son, they still don’t understand it. I’m not sure they ever will – I don’t understand it either. Still, fully understanding or not, they nevertheless encouraged me to try to apply to a good school and continue my education.
Last weekend my parents thought up a marvelous plan to pay me a surprise visit. They packed up my two younger brothers and baby sister and drove the several hours to my college, arriving unannounced in the late morning at my room. They walked in, expecting I would be there.
A flurry of activity on my roommate’s bed.
“Wha—-?”
“What?”
“Oh my!”
“Shut the door!”
“John – move!”
Slam.
And the door shut on that scene.
My roommate, I had carefully neglected to tell my parents, does not come from the same background as I do – and neither does his girlfriend.
I’m sure you can imagine how the topic of sex is treated in my town. In my 18 years growing up in the same town, no one I knew personally had ever had sex before getting married; we didn’t even use the word much. I knew those sorts of people existed, but none of my friends did that, or even defended it for others: everyone more or less figured that sleeping with someone before marrying was one of the worst things you could do. Things like condoms, sex education, and the like were never mentioned. Maybe in some ways we were too sheltered, but there is a purity in such a childhood that I neither deny nor regret.
Nevertheless, my roommate did not grow up with such old fashioned views, and he happily invited his girlfriend to share quality time together on a regular basis. I usually went to the library to study and not think about it.
My parents decided the whole family needed some time to recover from their shock, and something to distract the children from unfortunate questions, and they took up an old suggestion I had given them to try Nifty Fifties’s milk shakes. They toured the campus a little, and a few hours later they returned to my room, sure that by now I had certainly returned and they could make the day somewhat right again. Returning to my door, they called out, “Oh, Henry!” and opened my door.
“Wha—?”
“Not again!”
“What?”
“Oh, my!”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Shut—the door, you idiot!”
“Daddy, what’s going on?”
Slam.
And the door ungracefully yet mercifully shut once again on that scene.
My roommate, indeed, had not yet gotten out of bed, nor had his girlfriend. I arrived several hours later to discover my siblings upset, my parents livid, and my roommate and his girlfriend gone.
Now, this would be difficult enough a situation as I’ve described it up unto this point. The story becomes even worse, though, because my roommate’s girlfriend is, in fact, also a guinea pig. Now, I love my parents, but they have some views on which I part ways. Mostly where we grew up everyone was a guinea pig, we all hung out, and eventually little guinea pigs would grow up and marry other guinea pigs. Guinea pigs just didn’t marry humans. It’s not that anyone could express why, exactly, it shouldn’t happen. Everyone just knew that it wasn’t accepted: so no one accepted it.
You can imagine my parent’s shock and outrage, mixed with their embarrassment, all coming into play when they discovered not their dear son, but instead some young guinea pig in bed with a human. Once my younger brothers and sister were safely out playing on the swing, my mother brought it up.
“What could she be thinking? Where are her parents?”
“Mom, her parents are at home”
“Do they know what their daughter is doing?”
“Mom, it’s not our business. Let’s talk about something else.”
“She is a disgrace to her species!”
“Mom!”
“How can you let her—“
My father doesn’t like to talk, that’s why he plays poker and leaves the theater to my mother. His silence was less than encouraging now, however, as he clearly agreed with the basic sentiment, if not the exaggeration, of my mother. It took a long time before we could talk about anything else. Eventually I dissuaded her from trying to find the girl’s parents or reaming out my roommate, and shortly thereafter we all realized it was best for them to just go back home.
My college friends, on hearing about this incident, were polite but clearly thought my parents must have come straight out of The Scarlet Letter. After all, no reasonable person today opposes interspecies relationships; that attitude was held by people who started genocides and held slaves and were bigots and racist and speciesist and rotten through and through. And furthermore, having sex is natural and an important part of deepening a relationship. There’s nothing wrong with it; in fact, it’s perfectly normal and expected.
But that’s not exactly how I feel.
Sure, I agree with my friends that interspecies relationships are not morally questionable, and that my parents’ view is rather close-minded in this way. (Of course, I would also think that the more different two people are, the harder it will be to bridge the gaps, but I would never forbid things just because they are difficult; if so, I’d quit Swarthmore tomorrow!) I think it is reasonable for people to value their own culture and not to be interested in getting involved in relationships outside their own culture, but in the end, I figure it should be up to the people involved to make that choice for themselves. This is hard to explain to my parents.
My friends were happy to see I had joined the ranks of the enlightened, until I had to disappoint them too. You see, while I don’t disapprove of interspecies relationships, I do feel that sex really should be reserved until marriage. This has a very simple religious element: my religion forbids sex with anyone other than the person to whom you are married. Beyond simple restrictions, however, I also believe that having sex is sharing an intimacy with someone that ought not to be done until you have mutually promised that you will live your lives together till death do you part. It’s often about this time that my college friends begin thinking again about puritans. Nevertheless, I firmly stand by this position; and when people have casual sex, even with their current boyfriend or girlfriend, it seems they are cheapening something that could be really precious. This is hard to explain to my college friends.
That’s mostly my story. It’s kind of hard to not agree with anyone; I guess my father’s words really are true: “Coming to college means standing on your own four feet.” It’s hard to say to your family and your past, “I no longer completely agree,” because it’s so familiar and comforting, and who knows what else is out there. It’s also hard to say to all your friends and new environment, “Actually, I don’t wholly agree with you either.” It’s hard to strike the balance and decide what to conserve, and what to adopt, not to be swayed either way by one’s own fear and cowardice.
I guess there are lots of people out there with just the same sorts of problems every day, working out these conflicts as best they can. Maybe you also have felt something like this. Dear Somebody, what do you think?
Yours sincerely,
O. Henry.
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#1: 10/22/2008 at 2:24 a.m.
Woah. Woah.
Male human plus female guinea pig? Wouldn't she...explode?
— Argos | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#2: 10/22/2008 at 7:49 a.m.
Author’s Note:
A number of readers have been at my rationale for writing using the persona of a guinea pig, and indeed, for writing this article at all.
When I was first thinking about how to structure this article, I realized that I did not want to write expository essays, either critical or descriptive. Instead, I wanted to let, as best I could, readers see how someone who comes from a very different background (so called “conservative” in this case, as I am most familiar with conservatives) might experience Swarthmore. It is very easy to simply refute an argument without thinking about the person; I hoped to show a little bit about the people behind the views, their thinking and experiences.
As I wanted to write about several different types of people, I decided to combine them all in one persona: as I explained in an earlier author’s note, there is more than one way to be conservative: one can be conservative in one’s personal choices (not taking many risks, not trying new things), one can be conservative in one’s social choices (not partying, not speeding on the road, not hanging out with crazy people), one can be conservative in one’s political views (generally supporting small government, large military, few social programs), one can be conservative in one’s religious views (holding to very traditional beliefs of one’s religion). Most conservative people are not conservative in all those dimensions, but for any one of those areas, Swarthmore would be something of a shock. And so I wanted to write about them all.
In order to be able to write about many experiences which were not mine directly, and yet which I thought were important, I chose to write as a fictional character. Writing as a fictional character allows me to take a mixture of things that have happened to me, things I have heard happen to others, and things that could happen, and combine them as I feel most appropriate. I chose a guinea pig because I have raised guinea pigs for most of my life and think they are cute. I wanted to inject some humor into my article: Swarthmore students have a tendency to take themselves very seriously (I am no exception), and I hoped that using a guinea pig as the narrator would indicate that I am attempting to be lighthearted and non-threatening in my writing, even as I raise issues which I believe are important. It is not because I am using the guinea pig as a smoke-screen behind which I can say or do whatever I want. I firmly believe in taking responsibility for actions, which is why I chose not to use a pseudonym.
I read all your discussion and suggestions, but will continue to refrain from posting responses. I already have had my say through writing the article, and I prefer to allow others the opportunity to present their often different and equally interesting perspectives.
— Chris Green | Registered, Swarthmore
#3: 10/22/2008 at 8:47 a.m.
Why in the world would parents just enter a dorm room without waiting for a response to their knock? Twice?
— L | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore
#4: 10/22/2008 at 8:58 a.m.
I'm a parent, and I must say that I would never, but never, show up at our daughter's room unannounced and open the door without an invitation. That's just rude. (Sorry, Henry, to slam your parents, but it is.) The space is hers, not ours. And in this case, it's not just their child's, but the child's roommate's as well. I'm sure your parents wouldn't arrive unexpectedly at the home of a friend or sib and walk in unannounced. Dorm rooms are no different. (And btw, how did they get into the building in the first place?)
As it happens, I'm in agreement with you about casual sexual behavior. But I'm in no position to evaluate your roommate's relationship, so I'll refrain from doing so. As a former AIDS educator, I'm very well aware of the dangers of hookups. And I think that, for women, a pattern of casual sex can be inconsistent with a healthy respect for one's body. But college students should be treated like adults, and that includes sexual decisions. The groundwork for making decisions of this sort has to be done well before the child arrives at college, and if it isn't, the parent has failed the child.
Finally, Chris, it's good that you write your column, but the guinea pig thing is kind of precious, you know?
— Laura Horowitz | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore
#5: 10/22/2008 at 11:24 a.m.
My parents won't even call me at school for fear of interrupting me at a "bad" or intrusive time!
But Chris, I think you give your college friends to little credit for not understanding your moral/religious beliefs. There is, after all, a difference between respecting anothers' beliefs and accepting them yourself.
— The Lonely Falcon | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#6: 10/22/2008 at 1:15 p.m.
And I think that, for women, a pattern of casual sex can be inconsistent with a healthy respect for one's body.
Laura -- I think that casual sex is sometimes a good and sometimes a bad thing, depending on your reasons for it, but I'm just curious about why you specify this statement "for women." Is a man somehow respecting himself more when he has sex than a woman is?
Chris -- OK, yes, we're pretty clearly coming from entirely different places when it comes to sex and no, I don't agree with you at all. That said, this was probably my favorite column of yours yet because of how it illustrates the difficulties of coming from a conservative to a liberal environment--it's assumed that liberal Swarthmore is liberating for everyone, but no. It's actually confusing and upsetting for a lot of people, and I'm glad you've tried to point that out.
— Lauren Stokes | Staff
#7: 10/22/2008 at 1:46 p.m.
Chris, you appear to have a misunderstanding of what makes sex precious. An agreement to share the rest your life with someone does not mean you'll have a good or healthy sex life with them. Everything from unpleasant sex to sexual abuse and rape happens within marriages. The institution doesn't guarantee that which *can* make sex precious: (not to sound like a crazy hippie, but...) love. Trust, affection, intimacy, empathy -- these are the things that, to some people, make sex a holy or spiritual experience. Having sex with someone you don't care about can cheapen it for some, I agree -- even if you happen to be married to that person.
(Why not just marry the person you're in love with and then sleep with them? Because marriage is serious business and takes more than just love to keep it going. Plus, it's possible to love more than one person in your lifetime.)
I take issue, also, with your implication that all sex outside of marriage is casual. Many, many people take the decision of if and when to have sex with a significant other *very* seriously indeed and to imply that they don't do so is condescending.
But, I do agree with Lauren that this is my favorite of your columns so far, and for similar reasons. It's refreshing that the tone of this column reads much more as "these are my beliefs and why I hold them" and not "there are my beliefs and why you're wrong for not holding them, too".
— Ariel | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#8: 10/22/2008 at 3:20 p.m.
i think what bothered me the most about this article is the blatant discussion of inter-racial dating/relationships. as a multi-racial person i think it is completely offensive to be espousing those types of views, it is racist and unkind. i can appreciate you needing to work out through apparently journalism your issues with your family but your choice of medium can be incredibly hurtful to those who are implicated in this article, in this case multi-racial children or those in multi-racial relationships.
as to the casual sex issue... i think the problem is very easily solved. if you are not interested in having sex before marriage no one is demanding that you do. but do not place value judgements on the choices of other mature adults who have, like you, put a lot of thought into their decisions about whether or not to have sex.
— anon. | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#9: 10/22/2008 at 3:48 p.m.
Dear roomie,
LOCK THE FUCKING DOOR.
Dear parents,
Knock.
Also I've never heard anyone actually vocalize the opinion that casual sex is normal and expected, but I guess it differs on where you go.
— Amber | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#10: 10/22/2008 at 3:52 p.m.
Oh, and anon #8, I am also a multi-racial person and I don't think discussion of that is bad, even if it's a portrayal of people who don't approve of it, because it helps call attention to the fact that those people still exist and we have a long way to go.
— Amber | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#11: 10/22/2008 at 9:34 p.m.
Seriously, I have to think that this story was fictional merely to illustrate the distance between Henry's parents views and the life of his peers. To be intimate in college without locking the door is unthinkable. I also largely agree with Ariel about pre-marital sex. As to your claim that pre-marital sex cheapens the act, that's the kind of hypothesis which needs evidence to be compelling, and because you're never going to get that evidence, you're never going to be qualified to make the claim. It would be easier to buy a reason like "Jesus says so" because at least that doesn't comment on the quality of a phenomenon with which you have no experience and therefore no expertise. I think almost all of us accept the tenets of empiricism enough to agree that commenting on the subjective value of something you've never tried is a sign of intellectual arrogance.
#8, it would be cool if you would elaborate on your position. Chris rejects the discomfort his parents, but you take issue with "the blatant discussion of inter-racial dating/relationships." I am confused; is it the fact that the conversation is blatant that bothers you? would you prefer that it be oblique? If so, why? You feel that it is racist to espouse opposition to interracial relationships, but Chris isn't espousing that viewpoint, merely commenting on its existence. Is that commentary racist? If so, why? Do you feel there is a more suitable venue for discussing the prejudices of the people around us than a newspaper column? What would that be? Did you really read Chris's column or just skim it?
— Seth | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore
#12: 10/22/2008 at 10:34 p.m.
Lauren, I didn't say anything about men because I'm not one and I don't think I can comment usefully about how their self-images are created. But I have seen and had discussions with lots of women who engage in casual sex and feel badly about themselves afterwards. Of course, that probably has to do with their reasons. If they wanted to get laid (a reasonable rationale for casual sex although not one I'd encourage my kids to engage in-and I believe one of them will read this...*grin*), they're less likely to feel regret than if they were trying to please someone, say, or hoping to start a relationship. But that's just my experience.
— Laura Horowitz | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore
#13: 11/2/2008 at 9:40 p.m.
Props to commentators & Chris. I haven't read every article or comment thread posted on this site, but this is the best embodiment of DG's "Be constructive" policy that I've seen.
— Greg | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore