What does it mean to be sex-positive?
I was in a surreal daze up there on the stage in front of a ballroom full of students not forty minutes after I heard the news that Scott and I have a son. But it was a blast and I was really impressed with the students. Their questions were thoughtful and brave and allowed me to babble on about some of my fave subjects- sex and politics- and how they interact. There were also sex-positive books for sale and film screenings and workshops later in the day. Shira Tarrant, super saucy gender studies professor and dear friend of mine, moderated the panel. Afterwards, Shira, Ashleigh Klein, Amy Lee and myself railed against sex-negativity with radio host Glenn Zucman. I?ll post when a podcast is available.
Check out a blog about the event.
Check out my quote, dude.
..and when you perform the twelve Herculean labors of prospective adoptive parents, including attacking the hydra of international paperwork, facing the hell hounds of the home study, cleaning the Aegean stables for the house inspection and enduring an interminable wait (we waited exactly 361 days). After that, your dreams actually do come true, it seems.
I was on my way out the door (late as usual) to speak at CSULB on a panel about sex-positivity, when our case worker called me at home to tell me she had a referral for us- a seven month old baby boy named Tariku. Tariku?s pictures show a wildly gorgeous boy with huge brown eyes and his whole hand in his mouth. I printed out his paperwork and made Scott read it to me over the phone from Seattle as I drove to Long Beach, weeping my makeup clean off.
The next day Scott and I accepted the referral. We now have a son. And this next wait, as we anticipate the arrival of his court date in Ethiopia and then the day when we can finally travel to get him, is a whole new kind of difficult in my life. It lives balled up in my chest and unfurls every few hours. I have to stop and breathe so I don’t pick up a can of peas and hurl it at some innocent mother in the grocery store who gets to be there shopping with her child when mine is so far away. But it is not only frustration, it’s also a glow I carry around, a warmth, a wonderful secret. We’ve waited for nearly five years for this. I carry his picture everywhere- the son I?m waiting to meet.
Tariku means ?my story? in Amharic. This is what my Japanese friend Yoshi writes to me about the name Tariku:
?I am so surprised at your son’s name! ?Tariku? sounds like Japanese word ?Tairiku?, which means ?continent?. He must grow up to be a reliable man with a heart as big as the African continent!?