As an assistant professor in the Gender, Sexuality and Women’s Studies program at Temple University, one of my roles is to educate people about pornography. In January 2023, I introduced a groundbreaking college-level course focused on the study of pornography, with the specific aim of bridging the deep social divisions in our country. In today’s America, we are confronted with painful social and political divisions that seem to be growing at an alarming rate. Each time I encounter a new headline exacerbating these divisions, I become more convinced that open and less contentious conversations about pornography and sexuality education can help heal our societal wounds and bring us closer together. My objective is to normalize discussions about sex and pornography, making them as commonplace as talking about the weather. The more commonplace these conversations become, the more likely we are to recognize our shared humanity, reconnect with our own human nature, and cease inflicting harm upon one another. Thinking about this idea is one thing, but taking action is another. Yet, the more I pondered on it, the more I realized that I needed to practice what I preach if I wanted to transform my belief into a reality. So, in January 2023, I found myself walking into my supervisor’s office and uttering the words that would typically result in a trip to Human Resources: “Pornography – I want to teach a course on pornography.” Before I could even finish my sentence, I experienced a twinge of regret and wished I could retract my words. To my astonishment and delight, my program director didn’t bat an eye and wholeheartedly agreed. The conversation felt normal, not controversial or sensational – just a typical discussion. My proposal for the course received a similar reaction from everyone at Temple University, including administrators and students. I suspect that everyone, not just my students, craves spaces where they can have these conversations without feeling real or manufactured outrage, which often accompanies such discussions. A few months later, we launched “Social Perspectives in Digital Pornography: The Other Sex Education,” and it attracted a record number of students. Every Monday night, throughout a 16-week semester, I met with 40 students to discuss digital pornography. Contrary to popular notions, the course was far from sensational because we did not watch pornography as part of the curriculum. Instead, students delved into the history of pornography and its evolution into the modern industry through photography. They watched TED Talks and documentaries, exploring what digital pornography does or does not teach us about sex, consent, violence, body image, pleasure, intimacy, and communication across all identities. Throughout the course, we grappled with the influence and impact of a medium that is consumed by nearly three in four men and two in five women, yet rarely discussed openly. During each class, I maintained an objective, evidence-based approach, demonstrating that pornography is neither entirely good nor entirely bad. Engaging in thoughtful, nuanced discussions about pornography proved to be highly beneficial. By creating a safe space for these conversations, I granted my students permission to confront their often complex and conflicting feelings and relationships with pornography. They felt less ashamed, more connected, and more inclined to empathize with one another, despite their individual beliefs and feelings. “Even though I expected my students to learn from me throughout the semester, I found that I learned even more from them.” Regardless of the questions students raised or the conclusions they reached, we always circled back to the same fundamental questions: “Am I normal?” “Am I lovable?” “Am I worthy?” Through these inquiries, we delved into the basic concepts of humanity and belonging. In their final journal reflections, students revealed the immense benefits they derived from exploring these questions. They described how the course allowed them to confront the shame associated with sex and pornography and become more comfortable in their own bodies. Students discussed the challenges of vulnerability and how they were compelled to communicate through sensitive and intricate topics. Some of the most impactful reflections were those where students expressed a newfound sense of empowerment and self-confidence. Now that they have reconnected with their own humanity and the humanity of others, they feel better equipped to navigate the world. This type of learning holds more value than any grade they could attain. Even though I expected my students to learn from me throughout the semester, I found that I learned even more from them. Their feedback on our last day of class and their final reflection papers reassured me that I was not alone in my beliefs – that destigmatizing sex and pornography not only addresses core questions about normalcy, lovability, and worthiness, but also enables a deeper understanding of humanity and cultivates empathy towards others’ humanity. This course is just one of many I am piloting at Temple University in our pursuit of making sex education more accessible to those who desire and need it. As long as there is student interest and valuable learning outcomes, I plan to continue offering these courses because I firmly believe that discussing sex and pornography can bridge the divides that separate us. The course, along with the growing interest it has generated, reminded me of the isolating power of traditional sex education, which internalizes stigmatizing and shameful messages about sex. It turns sexuality into a weapon and fosters a community built on a divisive “us” versus “them” mentality, leaving us feeling insecure and suspicious of one another. The more we can do to diminish shame and fear, the more likely we are to cultivate communities rooted in compassion, understanding, and a shared sense of belonging. In a world where the sense of polarization and disconnection from our communities is increasing, perhaps it is time for all of us to contemplate what it truly means to be human. Jenn Pollitt, Ph.D., serves as an assistant professor and assistant director of the Gender, Sexuality, and Women’s Studies program at Temple University. She obtained her Ph.D. in Human Sexuality from Widener University, where she underwent training as a sexuality educator and researcher. **Disclaimer: The content within this submission is intended purely for entertainment purposes and does not promote or endorse explicit content or pornography.
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