Talking about sex and sexuality in a conservative Christian society is no joke. Hot damn. It was NOT my jam. After six straight hours of a workshop for members of the youth group at the nearby church, I feel both mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. And hungry!Full plate one second, clean plate club the next. What interesting reactions a body can have when under stress. On top of my MA paper writing stress, this seminar was quite the eye opener. I decided that I could not pass up a blogging opportunity on this topic, no matter how up shit’s creek I am with my MA paper. I’ll sleep when I’m dead! On to the nitty gritty.

About a month ago, I met a few members of the local church youth group while they were visiting my Kenyan mom’s house. They were presenting her with a gift as a way of thanking her for the mentoring and support she provides to the group. These youth group members, all of which I am very fond of, are not your average US church youth group. When I was in a youth group back in the day, I was 12, and my capacity for critical thought was most likely the size of a pea. This youth group is comprised of students and working adolescents—as we call them at Clark, “emerging adults”—who are very passionate about their work in the community. They are a good bunch of people, through and through. So of course, when Nelly said the buzzwords “sex and sexuality,” my ears perked up in the direction of their conversation. I learned that they were planning a seminar that would deal with topics of sex and sexuality, and Nelly was planning on giving a talk about these topics during the seminar. I quickly asked Nelly if I could tag along, and she obliged.

Now, know one thing about my Kenyan mom. If you want to gain experience or just try anything in general for the first time, she will be the first person to encourage you (i.e. “Nelly, can I kill a chicken and eat it before I leave?” “Of course. And I will be laughing taking photos”). Once she encourages you, she will promptly set you up with an opportunity. Case and point? Witnessing a baby being born up close and personal in week two of my stay. Writing a funding proposal three hours after I told her I need more practice writing grant proposals. She makes things happen! Talk about driven. If this woman were a golf club, she would be the…. yeah. That joke was bad. Bad. Leroy Brown.

Fast forward a month and a half—Nelly is telling me she wants me to present at the seminar. ¡Ay dios mío! She wants me to talk to my age mates about sex and sexuality. Now, normally, I would be jumping for joy at this opportunity. Obviously. I am all about talking about sex, baby. Let’s talk about you and me. I was supposed to be amped! And I was, until I actually thought about how tricky this would actually be. Why? Let’s make a list, shall we? I’ve only got two main points for you.

1. My Kenyan counterparts, although alike in age, have very different opinions about life and sexuality from my own. As an American, I am expected to be more open and accepting of many taboo ideas and subjects that many people here wouldn’t dare tackle. You know. Those Americans and their loose morals. This is the stereotype of “contemporary” vs. “traditional.” #lifeofanIDmajor

2. Most of them are Christians. Scratch that. Most are Born-Again Christians. Now, I don’t know much about this fancy scmancy new title in front of Christian, but through my question asking and observation having, I gather that Born- Agains tend to up the ante on their religious enthusiasm/fervor/zeal. Which I guess makes sense if you’ve been born twice. Right? Now, compare this to me. I went to church almost every Sunday growing up; however, I was not completely jumping at the sight of 8am Sunday morning. I vividly remember my mom demanding that I get out of bed to go to church every Sunday, and my response was a tired, cranky “I don’t wannnaa,” or “Why doesn’t dad ever have to go to church?” paired with an irritated grumble. Then about halfway through my churchgoing time, my mom became my Sunday school teacher which was AWESOME. Because my mom is clever and would somehow find ways to qualify going hiking on Sunday as a way to teach the word of (G/g)od. Then I went through all the hoopla of getting confirmed in high school. I think back on how I insincerely declared that after I was confirmed, I would continue to go to church. That must have been a trend in church if they were telling kids, “Now Johnny, just because you are confirmed doesn’t mean you stop coming to church. It actually means you are furthering your churchly life and duties..etcetcetc.” Johnny had no idea what he was getting himself into. And neither did I. Johnny and Amanda just wanted to finally be able to sleep in on Sunday mornings, and confirmation was the key to our ultimate release. To wrap up this tangent. I was raised Christian. And I once identified as Christian. Then as agnostic. At this point in my life, I like to be really cool and say I am spiritual. Organized religion really isn’t my jam because there are far too many oppressive mechanisms (especially for us ladies) installed in Christianity that make people feel like dirt on the bottom of a shoe if they don’t obey the word of (G/g)od. I’ve got enough to worry about without a book telling me how I should and shouldn’t act and love and be. I’ve also had far too many conversations with one of my best friends that always led us to religion being a huge barrier to human development. Don’t get me wrong, there are many things I appreciate about Christianity. There are also many aspects of being a part of something greater than yourself that supports many people through tough times. As Karl Marx once said, “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature.” I just can’t fully support it, so I take a step away and observe the phenomenon of religion.

So there I was, trying to figure out how to approach the topic of sex and sexuality—a normally loaded topic—in a religious setting. And man! I have so much respect for people who are trying to bridge the gap between sexuality and religion. You people are some of the craftiest people out there. I have no idea how you do it with such ease. I spoke with my Kenyan mom a few times about how I could approach the topic, and each discussion led to another road block. Topics that should not be discussed. Too touchy. Finally, last night after hearing I couldn’t talk about birth control (when the district’s maternal mortality rates are sky high and women are not spacing in between births successfully), I decided maybe I should sit this one out. I felt like the gag orders were so strong in this situation that perhaps I could sit back and observe and process and be the anthropologist that I so enjoy being. So I discussed this with Nelly this morning on our walk to the seminar. Thankfully, she understood that I felt uncomfortable as an outsider teaching about such a touchy and loaded topic. I think I was very lucky that another person came through the night previous and said they were coming to talk about this exact topic. I was free! Observation would be the tune I was singing today. Thank Ngai!

(Me? Eh probably not.)

After watching Nelly’s excellent talk about how everyone is from different backgrounds, and generalizing other people’s experience is neither helpful to you nor them, she quickly ran to another meeting, and I was left to be the Vanna White of the chalk board. I took copious amounts of notes until my chalk ran out. Then came more chalk. The facilitator speaking about sex and sexuality had a very interesting approach. I definitely admire their (trying to stick to neutral pronouns to avoid assumptions) courage and confidence in talking about such difficult topics. However, if you begin by telling over 40 participants that sex is gender, I am going to do three things. 1. Roll my eyes at you. 2. Want to scream because of the years of learning about this in school. 3. Write the correct definitions on the board when they aren’t paying attention. Knowledge is key, people. And it is important that it is CORRECT information. SEX is BETWEEN YOUR LEGS. GENDER is BETWEEN YOUR EARS. Kapeesh? All I want is for people who are teaching others to know the correct information so they are not proliferating misinformation. YIKES. Strike one.

Next the facilitator went on to a brief gloss over of homosexuality, and there was some definite shaming undertones in there. The facilitator spat out some random statistic saying that, “1 in 10 people question their sexuality because they’re (this part was a whisper) gay.” They then continued to say that, despite the room holding over 40 people, “We are less than 10.” By this, I am pretty sure the facilitator was eluding to some sort of assumption that there were no homosexual individuals in the room. You know what they say when you assume? You’re making an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me.’ Strikkkeee two.

Next the facilitator moved on to asking if sex was good or bad. Most people said it was only “good” if you were in a marriage. The facilitator agreed. They then switched to talking about the ‘M’ word. My face lit up. Finally, some real talk. However, the facilitator would not even say the word out loud. They saw that I knew what was coming and asked me to write the word for them on the board. Ummm. OK? Whatever tickles your fancy. After I wrote ‘MASTURBATION’ in big, capital letters while beaming from ear to ear in the direction of the board, the facilitator went on to discuss purity of the heart, soul, and mind and masturbation. What does this mean? Masturbate and you’ll grow a 3rd eye. Just kidding. But don’t do it because it is unholy and impure. Even if you are doing it to satisfy your own sexual urges without having sex with a partner. Any form of sexual awakening is sex. Even masturbation. Because it prevents you from staying pure for marriage. Hmmm. News to me. I could actually feel my blood pressure go up to like 190/120. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. This is where the issue of being quiet to observe and reflect clashed with my urge to speak out and share my hard earned knowledge with the world. I decided to be a good little anthropologist and zip my lips. For the time being…However, anti-self-love? Anything with a double hyphen and sex-negativity is grounds for…STRIKEE THREEE. You’re out!!!

The group moved on to lunch, and I made my opinions on the on sided nature of the information be known with some of the lead members of the youth group. After lunch (keep in mind that we had just eaten) , we had a glorious presentation about STIs complete with pictures. It was definitely grrreat timing to put these pics up on the projector screen right after lunch. How’s a little syph on the side with your chapati and stew? Oh sure thing. Order me up another serving. NOT. So after being shocked and nauseated by pictures of STI, sentiments were still following the same trend: “Abstain until marriage, and you won’t get STIs.”

[Now, allow me to GROSSLY generalize for a hot second. If you are a lady, and you are reading this, and you’ve ever been to an African country (I am not saying all African men are this way, but I have experienced a definite trend from Cape Town to Windhoek to Nairobi), you may or may not have come across the phenomenon of the “ambitious” man. AKA The dude who is trying to get all up in your business and has a chick waiting at home with a baby. And, kicker, he thinks what he is doing is totally fine. In fact, you may even tell him you are a feminist, ask him if he knows what that means, and he will declare, “Yes! I love women,” while telling you with ease that he is in fact married or the baby daddy of two beautiful kiddies. Yeah. That guy. So… Please. Tell me this guy never brings home any STIs to his baby momma with all the free lovin’ he is getting on the side. So, what I am trying to say is this. Abstaining and then having a ton of sex when you get married doesn’t exactly give you the free ride out of 1 Gonorrhea Drive, STI Land. Especially in such a normalized patriarchal culture such as this one.]

Once everyone was thoroughly scared from the horrendous pictures of warts, sores, and puss, it was time for the anonymous question and answer. This aspect of the seminar was by far, in my opinion, the most valuable. Each participant received a blank piece of paper on which they were given the option of writing any question they may have bouncing around in their brains. The best part of this exercise is the anonymity; the questions are folded up allowing people the ability to participate without having their identity tied to their questions. The questions were divided into three piles. One for the STI facilitator, one for the sex and sexuality facilitator, and one for me. And thanks to my random interjections, my pile was full of the harder questions. And I say harder not because answering them was difficult, but because the straightforward answers led me to describing oral sex in the house of Gahhd. Did it get awkward. Yes. Did I back down? Aww hell no.

After the very information packed STI Q&A (which included only one mention of using condoms to prevent STI instead of just plain and pure abstinence), the sex and sexuality facilitator did their Q&A. This facilitator answered the question: “Should I kiss if I am born-again” with “No. Intimacy is for marriage. Don’t.” And answered, “What if I can’t abstain from sex/masturbation?” with “Well. You should. It is all about will power.” This section, again, left me with my blood BOILING. So much so that I left the church for a bit of fresh air. Outside I found a few ladies that were very open and realistic about how they were bored of the discussion because they were not learning, nor were they hearing anything they came to hear. Instead, it was a sermon on purity. Not a seminar on sex and sexuality. Once I spoke with these ladies, I knew I had to end my silence and do what I knew was right: Give as much of an unbiased opinion with correct information so that people could make their own informed choices without guilt or shame.

It was my turn to do my Q&A section. I walked up in front of the group of 40+ with a hand full of questions. I began my Q&A with a disclaimer that was along the lines of this,

“As Nelly talked about earlier today, everyone comes from different backgrounds. And it is important to accept people and respect their opinions even if they differ from yours. My background here is mainly maternal health research, but I have spent the majority of my education learning about SEXUAL and reproductive health so I know quite a bit on sexuality. I am also from a completely different background than everyone here. I also know that the setting of this workshop is a bit limiting as it is in a church, and our topics are quite morally loaded. However, I am going to try my best to give you the most unbiased and comprehensive information for each of the answers I give so that you make take it as you will to make an informed decision on your own. I am not here to tell you what is right or wrong. I just want to tell you the facts and answer these questions you have asked. If you choose to take the Holy path, be pure and a good Christian, and do what the Bible tells you to do, please, do that. But for those who are questioning or are curious because they are constantly being told not to do something, I want to direct my responses to you.”

Boom. Making magic happen one sex and sexuality Q&A at a time. So I went on to candidly (and certainly awkwardly given the setting) answer questions about mutual masturbation, talking about masturbation, censoring all sexual images and how it would never work, communication and consent, and oral sex—busted out my fancy terms, ‘cunnilingus’ and ‘fellatio.’ My last question was definitely the hardest on me emotionally: “If someone is being forced to have sex from a young age, what is your advice?” … That hits you like a ton of bricks. Especially when it is written on the smallest piece of paper in the tiniest handwriting. This was real life. I answered this question as best as I could while looking into the many serious faces of my peers, wondering who asked. Who was being tormented—physically ravage and violated—and unable to escape? I wanted to help whoever it was so badly, but I could not. Because, as I mentioned before, anonymity was the best part of this exercise. Once I felt as though all my questions had been answered, I took my seat only to watch as the sex and sexuality facilitator stood up from theirs to make further comments. Instantly, I thought, “ut oh spaghetti o’s. did I overstep the churchly boundaries while taking about oral sex in a non-heteronormative way— how a male or female can perform oral sex on a male or female partner—minds were blown. Instead, the facilitator went on to say that even if you have had sex or do have sex, you shouldn’t feel guilty. Apparently my ‘being unbiased’ comment got to them. Fear not, it wasn’t a complete turnaround because the entire session ended on the hard note of ABSTINENCE IS KEY. Here are some graphics to prove that this is obviously hard fact.

Obviously no one WANTS warts. Good call. The logic here. Unstoppable.



Ut oh! Watch out for the clever ads talking about flies and diseases.

So in the end, I did my best for the day. I left feeling slightly relieved that I didn’t keep my mouth shut the entire time. But the content and discussions left me feeling underwhelmed. Despite the feelings that my heart was physically going beat out of my chest or I was cartoonishly steaming from the ears, I learned a lot today. I always cherish situations that put me out of my comfort zone. I learn much better when I am forced into some intense reflection from being extremely uncomfortable. I value other people’s opinions, and I find it important to remember that not everyone thinks like me. It is also important to be pushed outside of my sex positive bubble every now and then so I can see what other people’s realities are manifested as. It was an upsetting, eye opening, and exhilarating experience to be a part of this seminar. I will continue to think about these issues for the remainder of my time here. I am also trying to figure out a way to convince Nelly to hold a “Sex and Sexuality Seminar Part Deux: The FACTS” seminar in a hall outside of the church compound before I leave, but we will see how it goes.

Here’s to sex positivity, the Center for Sexual Pleasure and Health safe space for productive and enlightening discussions, the amazing friendships made, and personal growth I experienced there, the Spice Girls and their catchy 90s ballads, walking in the rain, sending funny pictures of yourself to people that you like making smile, Skype chats with the fam, getting confirmed and technically being more “Godly” than my cousin who majored in religion, urgent updates via Skype video to Charise, and really understanding how passionate you are about something when you have a physical reaction to extremely biased perceptions clogging the feed of people’s discussions and brains.

Loving life and struggling through writing my MA paper.

Until Next time,

A Maje