Nursing the Sexual Revolution

Mark Hindin

Cavalier Daily

Cavalier Daily

1975-09-12

Cavalier Daily

Nursing the Sexual Revolution
Everyone is aware that at one time the University allowed women on grounds only to cook and to remove beer cans from the first year dorms and to marry professors. In order to see women who were also students one had to travel to Mary Baldwin, Sweet Briar, or Hollins. Many Wahoos did go to these places simply for the curiosity of seeing girls who read books or at least pretended to read books.
Five years ago the cataclysm occured [sic]. U.Va. got its very own women who read books so that U.Va. men wouldn’t use up as much gas going to Staunton or Lynchburg. However, shortly thereafter many began to wonder if coeducation was worth the savings in gas. The new coeds immediately decided that they were used, abused, and oppressed. They then set about making Virginia men feel guilty.
They succeeded so well that no one said very much when Virginia women took over the Nursing Dorm and made it their own private club.
However, U.Va. men overcame their guilt and began questioning what they considered as unfair treatment from the women. Specifically they began demanding that men be allowed to live in the Nursing Dorm.
This year Nursing residents bowed to t he mounting pressure and agreed to let a token-force of men sleep in segregated quarters.
Even this concession has caused complaints among more sexually conservative residents. The Nursing Dorm has now broken up into two bitter factions. On the one hand are the female chauvanist [sic] sows and on the other are the oppressed males and their supporters.
One resident summed up the arguments of the chauvanists [sic] when she oinked, “We need a place of our own where we can get away from the rationality and level headedness of men.”
She elaborated, “It’s not that I hate men, but they would always be out in the halls, playing chess or walking around like they owned the place. I just couldn’t sleep knowing that there were bathrooms with sweatsocks hanging in them or sinks full of dirty dishes in this building.”
After being informed that men were already living in the Nursing Dorm she broke down and started weeping uncontrollably.
“It’s not fair! It’s not fair!” she sobbed. “I knew I should have gone to Mary Washington.”
This reporter couldn’t bring himself to t ell the vacillating creature before him that Mary Washinton had gone coed.
Of course she spoke for a dying philosophy, that women should have certain prerogatives that men should not. A male resident, let us call him J., voiced the sentiments of the coming age.
“I’m as flighty and irrational as any woman in this building.” He continued to speak with the trace of pain that comes from years of sexual discrimination.
“All my life girls have only been interested in my mind. I’ve got a good body too, but they always saw me as a mental object – a plaything!”
He was asked to explain and became somewhat embarrassed at this. “Well-er-ya know, like last semester I had to explain axiomatic set theory to this girl before she would even go to the Carvan for a humpburger. I’m so ashamed,” he wailed, “selling myself like that!”
To change the subject, he was asked if it was difficult being a male surrounded on all sides by women.
“Living with all these women isn’t easy but you make sacrifices for the good of the cause. For instance there always seems to be a bunch of girls walking around here in halter tops or without bras. It got so bad we had to move our chess games inside in order to concentrate. I sure hope it gets cold soon, then maybe they’ll put some clothes on,” he continued.
“the worse part isn’t the way they (girls) dress,” he said, “it’s the way they look at you. They look right at you with a great big sly grin. You can almost see them fantasizing about what’s inside your head.
“Then they wink as if to way ‘wait till I get a hold of you in analytic statistics.’ It’s almost like walking around with your brain exposed to the whole world. I feel so humiliated!” He was starting to shake so it seemed best to leave before he broke down completely.
He regained his composure, “Excuse the dishes in the sink. We usually put them in the bathroom when company comes but I didn’t want to put them in the tub with all the dirty sweat socks.” It was explained that no offense was taken and the reporter was walking out the door when J. hollered out, “Be sure to tell those sows in Mary Munford and Gwathmey to look out!”
Mark Hindin is a staff writer for The Cavalier Daily