I don’t know whether you dear polymaths have paid any attention to this case. In general I don’t think you interest yourselves very much in such cultural froth, God bless ya! But I want to write about this in a forum where readers will actually bring their intellects to bear on the topic, so..voici:
I was at Bryn Mawr Colege 1968-1972. When I started, we still had to wear skirts to class, and there were parietals: men had to be out of the dorms at night.
But by my sophomore year, all that was so OVER. I lived in the college’s first co-ed dorm with a buncha Haverford students. Oh, the “grownups” prophesied that the girls would get “taken advantage of”.. We girls laughed, nay, roared. Our attitude was: we can take care of ourselves, we’re adults, butt OUT. The college did butt out.
One of the articles I read about the Cornell case quotes a boy earnestly telling a girl:”Don’t EVER go upstairs at a frat house.” Well, Haverford didn’t have “frats”, but I also dated a few Penn guys. ( I preferred them to the scruffy, puny Haverford guys, they had, y’know, muscles, and short manly haircuts—and fast-forward: Reader I married one!)
But my point is, I DID go upstairs to their rooms. I wanted to get to know the guy better. I was a virgin and I was shy. I wanted to be able to talk. That sounds naive now, doesn’t it? And maybe my date was disappointed. At no point did it ever occur to me that my date might summon a few of his bros to restrain me so I could be gang-raped— and here’s the thing: I’m quite sure it didn’t occur to the boys either!
These were Penn students, fuggod’s sake! They were “nice”. They had been raised in the same milieu I was. We knew what to expect of each other.
They knew who they were, and they weren’t rapists.
And I knew who I was, and I wasn’t a victim. Also I never drank too much since I was gonna hafta walk back down to 30th Street station to get the Paoli Local back to Bryn Mawr.
Okay: now I’m a mom, and when my daughter was in middle school, like 11 to 14 years old, (say the mid 2000s) we parents were told: they’re ALL having sex! And there’s nothing you can or should do about it. Be cool, tell them “ It’s okay, just be “safe”” , get your boy the condoms and your girl the Gardasil shots. Don’t be judgmental or disapproving, you might psychologically traumatize them for life!
Oh, the kids knew what they were doing back in middle school, and: the kids ( boys AND girls) knew best. It was none of our business.
So, um, whaddya expect when they get to the totally unsupervised environment of college?
You get boys who assume that any girl probably wants to have sex. And so what, no big deal! They’ve been doing it since middle school, after all. There’s no reason to assume any girl does NOT want it.
‘Cept now, the middle school girls have reached the age of consent, and they’re kinda going back on the bargain. At some point every boy became a rapist and every girl a helpless victim.
“Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive!” might have been written about the now hoary “sexual revolution” of The Sixties”(which really didn’t begin till late 1968).
Yeah, but “Dawn goes down to day” as another poet wrote. We’re now in the age where “Terror is the order of the day”, as Robespierre decreed.
Heads rolled, during the bloody “#metoo” era.
And —witness the deja-vu of the Cornell 7–
it ain’t over yet,
Sauve qui peut.