Monday, May 08, 2006

The Creepy Cotillion

I came across a link in another blog to the creepiest thing I've seen in a very long time. Having been raised Fundie I have a pretty solid grounding in how whack fundamentalist and evangelical Christian churches can be - and that many "mainstream" evangelistic/fundamentalist churches are much, much weirder than the average person suspects - but the Father-Daughter Purity Ball even took me aback. (Note the disturbing, preternaturally mature quote put in the mouth of poor, eleven year old Anna Tullis by some publicity agent - or was it her father?)

Don't get me wrong. It isn't the concept of fathers wanting their daughters to preserve their chastity that bothers me. (To the best of my knowledge, sans the incontrovertible evidence of an offspring, my dad still thinks I'm a virgin, and if I did have a kid he'd seriously consider the virgin birth option.) It's the disturbing degree to which these men are all in their kids' sexual business that I find weird. I had a fundamentalist Christian Dad. His abstinence talks went something like this: "I love you and God loves you. Don't, uh, do anything until you're married. Seriously. God says no, and also men don't respect tramps. I'm glad we had this little talk. Go see if your mother needs any help."

The thought of my father being involved to this creepy, possessive degree in the psychology of my sexual maturation would've sent me into a fetal position from the age of about ten until, oh, I don't know, now. From taking them to this bizarre un-debutante ball with the interpretative dance and the virginal white gowns and the fathers "plac[ing] their hands on their daughters, and together we pray for purity of mind, body, and soul for generations to come", these guys are way too much into the details of their kids' sexual business. And why stop there? You can literally hang your son or daughter's pledge around his or her neck with the purchase of "abstinence jewelry" containing a note the poor child writes to the eventual agent of defloration (sample notes are provided in case your child, rather unsurprisingly, has no idea, at the age of ten or eleven, what to write to the person who will eventually take their virginity) and to which Dad literally holds the key.

It doesn't seem as much like parenting as putting a lock on a piece of property.

Keeping control of an asset.

Protecting your chattel.



Blogger Yearning 2 B said...

That IS creepy...

2:10 p.m.  

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