Modesty

A young lady wants to take a ballet class, but her husband of less than a year asks her not to, because he doesn’t want to go to her recitals and see all the women dressed so immodestly.

A young man is offended when he sees nude drawings in a friend’s sketchbook, declaring that she has produced pornography, and he refuses to change his mind even after she explains to him that anatomical studies are in fact a requirement for admission into the art program here at BYU. 

And I walk around campus, unsettled and frankly, scared. I am scared that I am surrounded by people who are incapable of seeing my body without sexualizing it. 

There is an egregious overcorrection taking place on BYU's campus. It is that in an attempt to avoid everything that is unchaste, we have begun to avoid everything at all related to the naked body. This is akin to what might happen if a person became so obsessed with not being part of a gang, that she or he refused to be part of a family. 

In the same way, art and pornography can seem to be very similar. The difference is that while one is a representation of God’s creation, the other is a facsimile created by the devil. Pornography is an exaggeration of the truth. It is an attempt to create an addiction that can never be satisfied because it’s always just out of reach. Art, on the other hand, is a beautiful and respectful depiction of God’s work. 

I once posed naked for a roommate who was applying to BYU’s art program. I’ll admit, I was nervous. There are things I don’t like about my body, and I was afraid of seeing those things depicted in her representation of me. 

I have never felt more beautiful than when I saw the chalk drawing of my own, vulnerable body. 

She hadn’t made any changes. I wasn’t skinnier. I wasn’t taller. I wasn’t hairless. She drew me the way God made me, and she made me realize how grateful I am for the artful, beautiful body I have been given. 

And this doesn’t just apply to art that is drawn, sculpted, or created with our hands. Performance art is just as vital to our understanding of ourselves. Things like dance and theatre express human emotion in a grander, more eloquent way than many other things can. And there is a difference between dressing immodestly and dressing in a manner conducive to that art. 

Modesty is important. The problem here is that many of us don’t have a correct understanding of why. As a young woman, I was taught, more than once, that by dressing modestly I was doing a service to the young men around me. I was taught that by covering my body I was creating a world where the average young man could live peacefully with his thoughts. Essentially, I was taught that men don’t have agency, or at least that a man’s agency is weaker than his testosterone. And many of our young men have come to believe that. 

If I could speak directly to those young men, I would tell them this: I do not blame you for what you’ve been taught, but I do want you to know that I do not dress modestly for your sake. You don’t need me to. I know that you are capable of seeing a woman’s body and respecting it if that is a choice that you choose to make. It will be difficult because you have been falsely trained. It may take time to re-wire your thoughts the way that you want to. But I know you can do it, and so I do not dress modestly for your sake. 

I dress modestly because I recognize that my body is a gift from God, and I respect that. It is beautiful. It is sacred. And it is mine. 

We, the students of BYU, are the rising generation. One day we will be parents. One day we will be leaders in this church. We may even be the young women’s and young men’s leaders charged with teaching those very same chastity lessons. We have the power to change the narrative. Let’s not waste it.