Repressed Sexuality

The three readings, “Lusting for Freedom,” by Rebecca Walker, “Tight Jeans and a Chania Chorris” by Sonia Shah, and “Why Black Sexual Politics?” by Patricia Collins all touch upon the idea of repressed sexuality, though in each case it is explored in slightly different contexts. Though the majority of the excerpt concerned the stigmas and negative stereotypes associated with black sexuality as reflections of racism, Collins’ piece directly addresses the paradox of a sexually repressed American culture where sex and sexuality is seemingly omnipresent from a consumer perspective yet suppressed in education and dialogue. A wave of conservatism in the late 20^th century seemingly censored “alternative” sexual practices, namely those that deviate from Puritanical standards of heterosexuality within marriage for the purpose of procreation. As a result, research concerning “alternatives” was stifled, and even currently, sex education in schools is not always adequate. Even with high pregnancy rates in adolescents, HIV/AIDS proliferation and the struggles of LGBT people in developing their identities, censorship of alternative practices as well as overexposure of heterosexuality have made the environment repressive.

In “Lusting for Freedom,” Walker describes her own sexual experiences as fulfilling explorations of her own power and pleasure. However, she makes a point to emphasize that her experiences are a rarity. Her confidence in her own self-knowledge, desires and resulting absence of shame stand apart from what many are able to gain from sex as a result of taboos – governmental, religious, and societal. It is important to note that Walker could not completely avoid societal pressures, but it appears that she in particular was in control of her desires enough to gain what she wanted from expression of sexuality in the way that she wanted to do it. Yet like Collins, she explains that the “suppression of sexual agency and exploration” is “often used as a method of social control,” that often creates a divide between one’s instincts and one’s thoughts as influenced by societal rules and imposed boundaries (Walker 22). Walker also touches upon a bind that women are often quick to identify – that as soon as women exercise that what in their minds may be freedom or independence, they are labeled sluts and whores. Perhaps most importantly, Walker calls for healthy exploration of sexuality where constraints are lifted and people are well educated and informed and can use sexuality as a tool for self-actualization (Walker 23).

Finally, Shah examines idea of expression of sexuality under a cultural lens with her analysis of the identity developed by her younger sister. Her initial fears that her sister was “buying into” American myths of female sexuality by objectifying her body through her clothing choices gave way to an understanding that instead, her sister was grappling to navigate her expression. Shah points out that white feminism does not recognize cultural duality, a fact that explains why her “interventions” were such failures in the context of her Indian household (228). Perhaps the most interesting conclusion from Shah’s piece is that one’s identity does not have to be confined within just one culture’s patriarchy. Her initial adherence to white cultural norms clashed with her parents’ Indian cultural context, but when she wore a chania chorri, which blatantly displayed flesh but through a culturally appropriate article of clothing (to her parents), it dissipated the household tension. To Shah, this change symbolizes a middle ground between realms that symbolize cultural context that is exclusively white or Indian, and so relates to the idea of creating a more open space for healthy sexual expression.