Teaching and Learning > DISCOURSE
Speaking the Sexual
Author: Julia Collar
Journal Title: PRS-LTSN Journal
ISSN:
ISSN-L:
Volume: 1
Number: 2
Start page: 165
End page: 168
Return to vol. 1 no. 2 index page
Scanning through the websites of departments of Theology and Religious Studies around the UK I was extremely surprised at the lack of module contents specifically pertaining to sexuality and religion. In the light of Marcella Althaus-Reid’s passionate assertion that all theology is sexual theology,1 in that subscribing to a religion also necessarily entails subscribing to a code of morality and ethics that govern the interaction of the body with society and the environment, why are there so few modules that mention sexuality as more than a passing reference, let alone devote a whole course to it? Who speaks for the sexual?
The study of sexuality as a serious scholarly pursuit has been slow in being realised, especially in fields of expertise beyond medicine or psychology but it seems that Religious Studies in particular has been rather left behind in its engagement with the subject. I wonder if this is not because the inherent assumption is that religion and sexuality are eternally in conflict especially in the increasingly secularised West, and to engage with such emotive and fervently pursued arguments may be rather more than many are prepared to deal with. However, if we are interested in the pedagogical implications of teaching religion to students who themselves bring their own religious beliefs to the lecture hall then it ought to be the case that the pedagogical opportunities and dilemmas thrown up by introducing sexuality into the equation are just as important. Students may have religious or secular beliefs that colour their access to information, ability to debate, and affect their learning outcomes but first and foremost these students are gendered bodies, Many aspects of religious life revolve around prescribed cycles of human relationships; birth, marriage, rites of passage, ritual activities at times of festival or in the context of day to day living are all, to a certain extent, dependent on acknowledgement of gender and sex yet are very often not dealt with in this light. Whether this is because it is assumed that every student will automatically deduce this, or whether it is because it is difficult to teach, or whether it is because it is seen as irrelevant is unclear and probably not reducible to a single consensus.
From a student’s perspective however, sexuality and gender can be very appealing both out of curiosity and out of the peculiar ‘hip’ factor some courses generate. Dr Ashley Tauchert from the University of Exeter mentioned at an IFTR (Institute for Feminist Theory and Research) event on feminist pedagogy held in January2 a theory she had about student enrollment on a course she teaches covering feminism in English Literature. She stated that to her surprise the course ended up with a majority of male students and she attributed this to the fact that for a male student in the cut and thrust of university social life, to have an understanding of feminism can be very much a boost to status and certainly curries favor with the opposite sex. Dr Tauchert originally wondered whether the male students may have enrolled on the course to disparage, however she found that their understanding and empathy with the subject in hand developed throughout the duration of the course in a way she could not have predicted and which resulted in the students seeking deeper levels of learning for themselves. It can be argued that feminism is a long way from gender and sexuality however, but this example does point to the fact that such potentially controversial subjects and circumstances can be very popular and a mmeans of attracting students to classes they might not necessarily consider.
Sex and sexuality can also perhaps be more obliquely useful for maintaining student engagement with learning. In a 1997 issue of the Times Higher Education Supplement in an article titled ‘Sex as a Method,’ Julia O’Connor Davidson at the University of Leicester explained why she used sex as a consistent working example in order to get across theory on sociological method, which her students found very dry and difficult on which to concentrate.
“I thought if I took examples of method to do with sexuality it might help because students are always interested in sex,” she says. “It meant they actually listened.” 3
Not every lecturer would necessarily feel comfortable handling such material, which leads me to speculate whether there are certain assumptions, originating both from students and other lecturers, about what a person who teaches in this way is like.
Thinking back to sex education at school I think there are few who have not, either unintentionally or otherwise, come to characterise their instructors in one of two stereotypical directions. I remember fondly a very stout and stern looking deputy headmistress who took my inner city class of unruly teenagers through sex education. She did this with a stately decorum worthy of Hattie Jacques’ indomitable Matron character, loosing her composure only once when the class dissolved into hysterics after she absent mindedly observed that the condom packet was empty because one of the science masters had been using them. She was able to control the class because her manner turned the student’s embarrassment into a perceived weakness, it was wrong to be uncomfortable with the subject matter in her eyes and I wonder if she didn’t try and maintain absolute control because she was frustrated with her own discomfort. The other stereotype is not so much based on gender but on demeanor: the teacher who is more relaxed and a bit ‘right-on’ and trendy, who is able to deal with their embarrassment by making it comfortable enough for the students to be embarrassed too. Some of these teachers were very effective no doubt but how long did it take for the casual attitude and informal atmosphere to degenerate into smut and innuendo?
In the case of Religious Studies and sexuality I wonder if the same kinds of stereotype prevail. Do students expect on the one hand a lecturer who handles their learning about sexuality and religion with clinical precision and detachment, or do they expect an instructor who can engage with them on their own level and make the subject as interesting as its allure suggests? Are we suspicious of someone who wants to teach and research in sexuality? Do we suspect that there is more to their motives than academic interest; are they perhaps looking to espouse personal polemic, or to bring their perversions out for display and discussion, or to coerce or abuse their students? I am purposely using pejorative language, as I would wish to argue that it is perhaps assumptions like these that have contributed to the neglect of sexuality in the field of Religious Studies. Though religions may place value on virtue, sex and sexuality within certain boundaries, and the disapproval of breaking sexual conventions and contracts, this is not what Religious Studies wishes to endorse as well. Religious Studies is uniquely placed to be able to teach students the background and debate to the religious sexual standards that have become deeply engrained in society’s morality, to provide opportunities for discussion on territory a majority of students will have some experience of and are enthusiastic to engage with, and to potentially provide an access point to difficult theories or unpopular material through a pedagogy of sex and sexuality. If Althaus-Reid is right, it must be asked who can speak for sexuality within the Religious Studies academy and when will this happen?
Endnotes
- Marcella Althaus-Reid, Indecent Theology, Routledge, 2000
- See p. 93.
- Available online to subscribers at http://www.thesis.co.uk, Sex as a Method by Harriet Swain, 22nd August 1997
Return to vol. 1 no. 2 index page
This page was originally on the website of The Subject Centre for Philosophical and Religious Studies. It was transfered here following the closure of the Subject Centre at the end of 2011.
