Talking about sex at school has always been taboo. Whether it be giggles in the back of the classroom during a health lesson, or the crowd who attends URI Sex Toy Bingo as a joke, the edge of discomfort has kept its grip on us into adulthood.
“Sex and the Cigar” was revamped last semester after taking a decades-long hiatus, originally printed weekly in the 90s, with the aim to destigmatize the conversation around love and sex.
Believe it or not, things are substantially more tame this time. Photos of sex toys and stories of unfortunate intimate encounters were printed every week for the student body to read, right beside the classifieds.
From my end, publishing the column again seemed like a no-brainer. You (our audience) are having sex. I know because I watch you write about masturbating and hooking up on YikYak, I receive your messages on Tinder and I’ve seen more people drunkenly make out in a frat basement than I’d like to admit.
I was in for a bit of a rude awakening when we received our first negative feedback on an Instagram post plugging “Sex and the Cigar,” though it confused me.
We consume media about sex every day, from television to books and music. It’s human nature in the most literal sense of the word.
The vast majority of the negative reception came from men, who commented the same unoriginal GIFs they see everywhere else, appalled that the secrets of sex were leaving the bedroom (or in this case, the shower). The women we heard from? They loved the column. I personally was sent photos of girls reading it during Greek Week’s champagne breakfast.
Men can brag about the sex they’re having, while degrading and objectifying the women they’re doing it with. God forbid a woman discusses the logistics of how to make it better.
“Sex and the Cigar” has a notably straight, cis-female slant. Not intentionally, simply because of the gender demographic of our staff. We prioritize diversifying the perspective, but ultimately, it comes down to who wants to write it.
The column has become a way for our female writers to share primarily female sex issues, like the fascination with a woman’s virginity and the deprioritization of women’s pleasure.
Disgust at women discussing sex is nothing new, but it is something I thought we left in the past alongside the aerosol-heavy hairstyles of the 80s. The barrage of negativity from men in our Instagram comments sent a message, purposefully or not, of what is deemed “acceptable” topics of discussion for women.
Talking about women’s experiences gives them power. Maybe talking to another woman, you discover a common sexual phenomenon. You discover you’re not alone. Maybe you get a tip that makes you more confident in the sheets.
We’re going to keep writing about sex as long as university students are having it. Call it inappropriate all you want, but sex is a fact of adult life. It’s also the nature of the free press to cultivate discussion, so I invite the comments to keep rolling in.
