On children and responsibility

I must confess that, over the relaxing months of summer, I spent considerably more time and effort following the trivialities of the world of sports rather than the changing state of domestic politics and international affairs. The media's monotonous droning on Iraq and the incessant, yet rarely incisive, coverage of the presidential election of Nov. 4, 2008, seemed to make NHL free agent signings and preseason football considerably more attractive.

From the NFL, however, came a sad story of abuse not much documented in the media. I speak not of the horrendous facts surrounding the trial of Michael Vick, but of an abuse more profound and, in many respects, more disturbing: the abuse of the human condition perpetrated by a Denver Broncos running-back little known outside the analytical sphere of professional football.

In a short piece published on Aug. 26, the Denver Post revealed that starting running-back Travis Henry has been responsible for nine children by nine different mothers in four states. This was seen by many simply as fodder for raunchy comedy, but even a sports talk show host in my hometown, whose act is rarely known for trenchant social analysis, could not help but label Henry "irresponsible."

The Post noted that, when asked about his Darwinian success, Henry affirmed that "I want to take care of my kids really and truly." Unfortunately, under any objective definition of the phrase "take care of," this is an impossibility. Nine children will likely never, outside of the courtroom, set eyes upon the man who gave them life. When Henry asserts that he will "take care of" his children, he speaks not of the courage and love it takes to create a stable family, but of the federally mandated checks he must write to each woman he abandoned with child.

There is something fundamentally wrong with a person (or with a culture, for that matter) who views children not as distinct, sacred human lives but as notches on the handle of a revolver. There is something foundationally corrupt about an individual or society who sees offspring as financial burdens rather than as opportunities to leave a positive legacy on the next generation. These diseased conceptions, raised to epidemic levels in this nation, are the driving force behind the dissolution of the American family.

Irresponsibility and promiscuity, however, are not confined to the arrogant sphere of celebrity or the depths of urban America. Though I would hope that members of this University community have the intelligence and access to information to avoid such outrageous figures as Mr. Henry has accumulated, I still question the mindset, supposed to be more highbrow, that children are the unwanted, detestable side effects of an act of momentary pleasure as opposed to the desired result of an act of transcendental love.

As sexual relations are normalized and even glorified, their original purpose becomes obscured. When intercourse is portrayed as an average facet of college life, as it is in "Sex on a Saturday Night," those who choose to abstain become marginalized.

I write today not to moralize or to condemn, but to give voice to the beliefs and convictions of a large part of the student body, many of whom are incoming freshmen being first exposed to the complexities of college life, whose numbers are greater than their relative silence would suggest. The University should embrace these convictions, rather than imply, whether purposefully or otherwise, that they are quaint and emblematic of an innocent naivete.

As Kyle Smith '09 noted in a recent opinion piece on this page, the University's silence on sexual matters, particularly regarding the prevalence of sexually transmitted infections on campus, is disturbing and leads to an increasingly casual sexual atmosphere. The University owes its students a more comprehensive and informative presentation on the sexual landscape on campus, including time dedicated to the advantages of abstinence. It may be protested that this will create the impression of "judging" those who are sexually active, but I would suggest that a community where promiscuity rather than abstinence is marginalized is a safer, more responsible campus.

One of the most important bases on which a society can be judged is the treatment of the weakest among it: the young people who will determine the future success of this nation. This includes not simply those children who have been blessed with life outside the womb, but also those who anxiously await the first glimpse of the world and even those who may potentially be conceived and require the full attention of mother and father. We have a responsibility as participants in the human condition to treat our children, and the process by which they are conceived, with the utmost respect. Brandon McGinley is a sophomore from Pittsburgh, Pa. He can be reached at bmcginle@princeton.edu.