“No” has been a full sentence my entire life. For almost as long as I can remember, I have undergone consent training. This education began informally in elementary school, where I learned bodily autonomy and the basic tenet of keeping one’s hands to themselves. In fifth grade, these discussions formalized when I started receiving sex education, which continued regularly throughout middle school and high school. When I arrived at Brown, I underwent three separate consent training workshops in the span of a month and a half. For students attending schools in liberal areas, consent is ever-present and intertwined with education. However, even though these educational programs are successful at delineating what consent is, they lack emphasis on the vulnerability and rejection that often come with asking for consent, instilling a fear and aversion toward new romantic encounters.
All consent trainings teach, with a number of different acronyms and metaphors, the same core principles of consent: It must be empathic and uninhibited, and if there is any doubt that is the case, consent has not been given. This education is not only pivotal — it actually works. Sex education for adolescents and youth has a role in reducing rates of sexual assault. Multiple states have ratified laws requiring university students to receive education that explains and promotes healthy relationship dynamics. Brown specifically has thriving and extensive student organizations surrounding sexual health, such as the Sexual Health Awareness Group and Sexual Health Advocacy through Peer Education. In other words, more and more people are learning who “wants tea” and that is an undeniable net good.
However, as this understanding of emphatic consent has become more widespread, a new issue has arisen: a general reluctance toward new romantic encounters for fear of not gaining consent. In my adolescent years, as well as in my first months at Brown, many have described a perceived barrier in approaching a romantic interest. As the harms of catcalling, “locker room talk” and casual sexual harassment have become more widely discussed, a fear — especially for straight men — of approaching possible love-interests has been instated. This is due, in part, to the rising popularity of dating apps and the social-stunting effects of the COVID-19 pandemic in our generation. However, I believe one key factor we have overlooked is consent training’s frequent conflation of rejection with crossing a personal boundary.
When searching consent training videos and articles online, they focus on “the importance of consent,” “respecting boundaries” and, more broadly, what consent even is. While sex education has made it clear what consent is and is not, it fails to touch on the discomfort that comes with trying — and sometimes failing — to receive it. When approaching someone, the risk of not receiving an emphatic response has become fatal. Specifically in heterosexual encounters, it is oftentimes not only shameful, but also perilous, to not receive consent, and thus individuals are too frightened to even try.
If we clarify that the act of not receiving consent is neither reprehensible nor immoral, despite the fact that pushing that boundary is, then we can encourage individuals to put themselves out into the world without inhibition. Rejection is natural and human. We should feel empowered not only to say “no,” but also to hear it. Receiving a “no” is neither indecent nor a personal overstep, but a part of life. And, it builds character.
While I acknowledge that this is much easier to write than to do, I urge us all to take small steps to risk the rejection that is inevitable to an adventurous and fulfilling life. Talk to people at parties, express interest, share compliments — there is a respectful way to carry these actions out, even if the end result is denial. As we continue to teach comprehensive sex education and consent training to students of all ages, our next step is to emphasize not only what consent looks like, but also the oftentimes vulnerable steps involved in obtaining it. To teach the principle of sharing lust, affection and praise, even with no expectation of reciprocity, can only make our world more loving.
Talia Berkwits ’29 can be reached at talia_berkwits@brown.edu. Please send responses to this column to letters@browndailyherald.com and other opinions to opinions@browndailyherald.com.
