Content note: This essay discusses sexual assault.
Last month, we sent our daughter away to college.
There were the normal preparations: packing, shopping, making sure she can cook and do laundry, and all the little things you suddenly realize another human needs when they’re going to live somewhere without you. And we talked…a LOT!
We did many of the same things when our son left home. And had some of the same conversations.
But there were some conversations I had with her that I never had with him.
Never leave your drink unattended.
Don’t go to a party alone.
Make sure your friends know where you are.
Have a phrase you can text if you feel unsafe.
Trust your gut.
And then there are conversations about clothes because I know how quickly people scrutinize a woman’s clothes, body, alcohol consumption or friendliness when something happens to her.
Of course I worried about our son.
But not like this.
That difference is what I haven’t been able to stop thinking about as the allegations involving the “Cornell Seven” have made national headlines.
A former Cornell student, identified as Jane Doe, has accused seven former fraternity members of drugging and sexually assaulting her in 2024. She filed a civil lawsuit this September. The initial criminal investigation did not result in charges, but with the civil suit, New York has appointed a special prosecutor to reopen the case, and Cornell has commissioned an independent review of its response. 1
Jane Doe’s story didn’t create my fear for my daughter.
It is evidence of why the fear was already there.
Because there were women before her. And unfortunately, there will be women after her.
The CDC says more than one in five women in the United States has experienced completed or attempted rape in her lifetime. Nearly half have experienced some form of contact sexual violence. 2
Those numbers are our friends. Our sisters. Our daughters. Our coworkers.
And Sometimes they’re us.
But the assault is only the first violation. We’ve all watched what happens next after a woman is harmed. The interrogation begins.
How much was she drinking?
Why was she there?
What was she wearing?
Why didn’t she report sooner?
Girls are taught to protect themselves from being harmed.
Then, if they are harmed, too often they have to defend themselves all over again.
That is a lot of responsibility to put on women. And it made me wonder:
Why aren’t we holding men to the same level of scrutiny?
This starts long before college
Objectifying women doesn’t start when a guy gets to college.
And respecting women shouldn’t start there either.
We shouldn’t wait until our sons enter high school, get a driver’s license, start dating, or pack their bags for college to teach them how to treat women.
It starts when they’re toddlers.
Long before children understand sex, dating, or consent, they are learning what people are worth.
They watch how Dad talks to Mom.
They hear the jokes adults laugh at and the shows watched.
They notice who clears the dishes and who stays seated.
Who gets interrupted.
Who gets taken seriously.
Who is expected to serve.
Who gets to lead.
Who is protected…and who is blamed.
Our kids are learning what men and women are supposed to be long before we ever tell them.
And then the double standard grows with them.
Girls hear:
Cover up.
Don’t walk alone at night.
Watch your drink.
Stay with your friends.
Share your location.
Carry pepper spray.
Learn self-defense.
We are essentially telling our daughters: There are men in this world who may not respect your boundaries, so you need to know how to protect yourself from them.
Meanwhile, what are we teaching our sons?
This isn’t an indictment of every boy or every man. But culturally, we have been far quicker to prepare girls for dangerous male behavior than to confront the attitudes in boys that can eventually become acceptable and dangerous.
We laugh off disrespect with boys will be boys.
We excuse crude jokes because that’s just how guys talk.
We tell little girls that the boy pulling her hair probably likes her.
Before our kids even understand relationships, we can begin teaching them that disrespect from boys is normal, and girls are responsible for managing it.
Those lessons don’t disappear with a diploma.
They follow us into college, workplaces, gyms, churches, marriages, group chats, and boardrooms.
Objectification is formed over time.
Respect is too.
If anyone should understand formation, it’s a Jesus follower
Christians talk a lot about “training up” our children.
Proverbs 22:6 is often quoted as a promise, but at the very least it reminds us of something we already know:
Formation begins early.
We teach our children honesty before they understand fraud. Generosity before they earn a paycheck. Kindness before they understand how cruel the world can be.
Why would we wait until our sons start dating to teach them how to respect women?
And this is where I’ve seen Christian culture get it wrong.
Many girls grew up with purity culture and hearing a lot about modesty.
Cover up.
Don’t be a distraction.
Don’t cause your males to stumble.
The responsibility for a boy’s thoughts too often landed on the girl’s shoulders.
But in Matthew 5, when Jesus talks about lust, his instruction is directed toward the person doing the looking.
Deal with your eye.
Deal with your heart.
The responsibility stays with you.
Women are not temptations to manage.
They are not property to control.
They are image-bearers to respect.
Genesis tells us that male AND female were created in the image of God.
Before she is someone’s girlfriend, wife, daughter, or a body walking through a fraternity house, she bears the image of God.
Paul tells Timothy to treat younger women “as sisters, with absolute purity.”
Imagine if that became foundational to how we disciple our sons.
See her humanity before her sexuality.
Respect her boundaries.
Honor her voice.
Protect her vulnerability.
Practice self-control.
Because self-control isn’t some modern idea we borrowed from consent education.
It is literally a fruit of the Spirit.
Parents of sons, we have a checklist too
I will keep teaching my daughter to watch her drink, stay with her friends, trust her gut, and call me from anywhere at any hour if she needs me.
That is the world we live in.
[Side note: “drinks” doesn’t solely mean alcohol. Drugs can be mixed into any beverage.]
But our daughters shouldn’t be the only ones getting a safety talk.
Parents of sons, we have a checklist too.
Does he understand consent?
Does he know intoxication is not an opportunity?
Does he know a woman can change her mind at any point?
Will he speak up when his friends objectify women?
Will he intervene when someone vulnerable needs help?
Does he respect women when there are no women in the room?
Does he understand that his self-control is his responsibility—not hers?
We need to raise sons who are safe people.
Men who don’t join in.
Men who don’t laugh at the group chat.
Men willing to say, Absolutely not.
Men who understand that strength isn’t demonstrated by how much power you can exercise over someone else.
Sometimes strength looks like what you’re willing to stop.
Our daughters deserve more than a lifetime of learning how to protect and defend themselves from someone else’s sons, no matter how old they are.
Maybe we’ve spent enough time placing the burden on them because…
We wouldn’t need to teach our daughters self-defense if we taught our sons self-control.
Look Again
How much of what we teach girls about independence is really about protecting themselves from men’s behavior?
What are our sons learning about women from us long before we ever talk to them about dating or sex?
If women are made in the image of God, are we raising our sons to treat them like it?
Keep Reading
If you’re navigating change, letting go, or learning to trust God in a season you didn’t quite feel ready for, keep reading:
Discipled by the Algorithm
What happens when viral Christian content starts shaping our theology more than context, Scripture, and discernment?
Who Should I Believe?
When everyone claims to speak truth, how do we decide which voices deserve our trust?
Walls Feel Safe…But Walls Lie
A Hadestown-inspired reflection on the walls we build for protection—and what they can cost us.
If this article encouraged you, provided language for what you’re feeling,
or challenged you, I’d love to hear your story in a comment below.