I saw this on social media. I am not sure who the original author was, but it sure is food for thought.
What Are We Teaching Our Sons?
Very few things in recent times have disturbed me as much as the reported Cornell fraternity rape case.
As a mother of both a son and a daughter, both away at college, I find myself worrying about the safety of both of them. But this incident has made me come back to a deeper question:
What values are we actually teaching our children?
I grew up believing that the most basic rule of being human is simple: you do not harm another human being.
Cultures differ. Traditions differ. Social norms differ. But surely a society can only function if we all share some basic values.
So why, when a young woman is allegedly extremely intoxicated and drugged and multiple men are involved sexually over many hours, are we even having a debate about consent?
At what point did this become complicated?
If someone is incapacitated, vulnerable or unable to protect themselves, shouldn’t the instinct of any decent human being be to help them?
Not exploit them.
Not invite friends.
Not watch.
Not walk away.
Help them.
What has disturbed me almost as much as the allegations themselves is the huge number of young men who were connected to the same fraternity and so many of them may have known something was happening.
These are Cornell students.
They went through a supposedly “holistic” admissions process. They were selected from thousands of applicants as some of the brightest and most accomplished young people in the country.
I am sure many of their applications were filled with leadership positions, community service, charity work, passion projects, awards and glowing recommendations.
Which makes me wonder:
What exactly are we measuring when we call a young person exceptional?
We spend enormous time building our children’s résumés.
SATs. APs. Sports. Music. Internships. Volunteer work. Leadership. Passion projects.
But how much time are we spending building their character?
What kind of upbringing leads a young man to look at an incapacitated woman and see an opportunity for sex instead of a human being who needs help?
What kind of men were their role models?
How did their fathers talk about women?
How did their mothers?
Did they grow up with sisters?
What did they hear at home, in locker rooms, in group chats and online that shaped their understanding of women, sex and power?
And perhaps the most uncomfortable question for parents:
Are some of us raising high-achieving boys without necessarily raising good men?
Because a woman does not become less human because she is drunk.
She didnot stop being human because she took drugs.
She does not lose ownership of her body because she is unconscious, intoxicated or vulnerable.
In fact, that is precisely the moment when the people around her should protect her.
And responsibility cannot stop with the people who directly participate.
What about the people who know and say nothing?
What about friends who watch?
What about fraternity members who hear something disturbing and decide it is “none of their business”?
What about institutions and the officials if they become more concerned with reputational damage than with finding out what actually happened?
Universities should certainly examine their role.
But parents should examine ours too.
Because universities meet our children at 18.
We have them for the first 18 years.
So I keep coming back to the same question:
What are we teaching our sons about women?
Are we teaching them that strength means protecting someone who is vulnerable?
That this is not masculinity?
That another person’s intoxication is never an opportunity?
That consent is not something you search for in a technical loophole after the fact?
And perhaps most importantly:
Are we teaching our children that being a good human being matters more than getting into a good university?
Because if we are focused on producing impressive résumés and but failing to instill empathy, courage and basic human decency in our children, then somewhere along the way, we have completely lost the plot.