Is She a Hoe? Or a Liberated Woman?

Being in college is, by far, probably the best time of every person’s life. You get to start over from all the dorkiness and loserdom many of us reigned over in high school (not me, I was a cool kid, but yeah). In addition to having this ultimate chance to redefine yourself from high school, it seems like the perfect time to try all of the things you’ve had an itching to do since your hormones kicked in around 16, but couldn’t do (because you lived with your parents). And most of those things involve drugs and sex. I want to talk about sex.

Getting it on without sneaking around.

Drinking and then driving it into that puddy.


Really getting to know all of the basketball and football players on campus.
Banging it while your roommate is in that 4-hour lecture on their carpet, unapologetically.  

Figuring out how Karrine Steffans does that “thing” with her mouth that took Mr. Marcus down in 30 seconds.

Whether we admit it or not, we’ve had some pretty freakish anticipation about what to do in these four years that we might not get a chance to do after them. As a junior, I have had two full years of scratching just about nothing off of my personal list (damn my committed heart!) and have witnessed two years of freaks cover all of the acts on my checklist times five. In their first quarter. Especially the freshman sistas.

Football players. Basketball players. A quarter-to-half of the campus NPHC orgs. A club/org president or two. And their LINKS (freshman) adviser. Damn. Some of my sistas have already hampered their chances of any respectful or honorable reputation on campus before Thanksgiving. They are giving upperclass-men everything to be thankful for. These young women walk around with their heads held high as if they have achieved what no others could or have. They don’t take advice from upperclass-women and their warnings about them being fresh meat. They believe they are getting hated on. And they don’t want to hear anything about “he’s this girl’s boyfriend” or “he Facebook stalks chicks right out of high school.” I have heard my fair amount of boasts about having sex with “men” who they can only identify as “that dude on the football team with the locs.” Really? You can’t get a name before you let him slide himself into you?!?!


I can only off-handedly call girls who condone the objectification of themselves “bops.” I picked this term up from my people from Cleveland, which is a loving word for what I would usually call a “hoe,” “slut,” “skeeze,” and overall “trifiling bitch.” I try to refrain from calling my sistas these terms, but if is fucks like a duck and sucks like a duck, well, quack quack.

I seriously understand that it is in NO WAY none of my business who individual girls sleep with, but when the Black community at a school is less than 3% of the school’s population, there is no way that a chick boasting about her skeletons is going to stay in the closet. And besides, Black people love to talk. About everyone. Especially ourselves. So if Mr. Black-and-Blue starts listing off who he’s knocked off to all his boys, and someone “overhears” what “knowledge” Ms. FreshMeat’s been giving out, not only will she be the undercover gossip, she’ll find herself with droves of wolves trying to be her “friend” or “buddy,” but really trying to tear that hide to pieces.

My bias seems to get the best of me when it comes to situations like this one. How does one separate the females who are just “sexually liberated” from the hoes? Is it possible for a college sista to have some good lovin’ without being seen as “wide open”?

When I look at a 19-year-old sista, fresh out of high school, I can’t look at her as a “liberated” woman. I see a naive child; an orphan to a world her parents never prepared her for. College is NOT the real world, as some people may think. It’s missing many real-world concepts that are substituted by a hell of a lot of free time compared to the lower years of schooling, a lot more attractive, seeming mature men (that we’ve been “waiting to date,” because high school dudes are BS), and a mind that is free from parental discipline. It’s a big adult playground and all the toys are set out in front of you. But when being “free” means suddenly losing your virginity to the big name on campus, and sleeping with three more of his closest friends (and three of his worst enemies), it’s a sign of hoodrat-ness. And hoodrat-ness does not equate adulthood. The drama that some women create by sleeping with men who have set relationships with each other is enough for me to call someone a slut, because a slut is only about self-satisfaction and thinks with her puss, not her brain. Why would ANYONE want to find out their best friend and them are sleeping with the same girl?



 If only JuicyCampus had never been shut down…. Yeah, I said it. We all know what they said was true.

All in all, I think it’s unfair that women are often considered sluts for sleeping around. But damn, WHAT ARE YOU THEN!?!?! We women say that this view of us supports a double standard because men are never judged for their excessive, often just-as-trifiling sexual activity and behavior. But is this really something we want to be equal on? Sleeping with as many men as the biggest man-hoe on campus is not going to earn us respect as women. If women are trophies, shouldn’t one set the highest standards for presenting one’s rewards? Because it’s never going to be seen as an accomplishment that you slopped up the best stepper on campus. If anything, one should be suprised that you “finally” awarded someone with that kind of special prize. No one should be rolling their eyes or sighing about it. Except the billions of other men who thought you were like the rest when you weren’t! 

Some women believe that you don’t have to be in a relationship to have sex, and that all one needs is attraction, a certain amount of trust (which seems to be gained quite easily after Thirsty Thursdays or a party held by Greeks). I don’t understand how one can trust someone without having a relationship with them. With chlamydia as popular an STI as it is around ALL college campuses like it’s a fashion, and gonorrhea, herpes, and HIV not trailing too far behind, one would think that women had more respect for their bodies and avoided meaningless sex with strangers. But I guess athlete’s muscles prevent them from being able to transmit SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED INFECTIONS AND LIFELONG DISEASES, and wearing Greek letters does the same. *cough* And condoms DON’T protect against everything, including your rep on campus from being destroyed before people even connect name with face.

Leave “Sex and the City” to old bats that are making money and aren’t surrounded by people who can learn of all of their biz.

And you aren’t Trina or Lil’ Kim, either…

Trina Pics

So stop acting like a hootrat and open a damn book, not your legs.

Let me know what you think.


Brothas… don’t THINK you got away from me. I’m grilling you all next!

 A little more study…


A little less ass….

                                                                                …And a complete abolition of messing with little girls!


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