Routine Circumcision for Disease Prevention?

I have just learned startling information. The Centers for Disease Control (CDC) is considering recommending routine circumcision for infant boys in the United States. That recommendation, should it be made, would come from a review of studies done on African males and the spread of sexually transmitted infection (STI) such as HIV/AIDS. The study concluded that circumcised men had a lower transmission rate of STIs--not “no transmission”, just a lower transmission.

Should the CDC make such a horrific recommendation, I believe I would lose nearly all confidence in them as scientists. For years now we have been insisting to our young people that the only way to avoid STIs is to use a condom or to abstain from sex. These are good, sound pieces of advice. We have historically been a country of circumcised men and we have learned through the 80’s that the spread of HIV was not deterred by circumcision. To recommend circumcision as a method of preventing the spread of sexually transmitted infections would undermine more than two decades of scientifically sound advice to our youth and adults, by suggesting that a circumcised penis is protected from such diseases. Even if the circumcised penis is 50% more protected than an intact penis, you could still contract a deadly disease. As my husband says, to rely on circumcision for protection against STIs is like putting five bullets instead of six in the gun before you put it to you head. Wearing a condom means that all penises are equally protected from disease. American men are acculturated to condoms and have access to them. They remain the best form of protection outside of abstinence.

In addition to this ridiculous notion that circumcision is protection from STIs, it is important to remember that circumcision is a surgery NOT WITHOUT RISK. Infection, surgical error, the well-proven interruption of mother-infant bonding, significant pain and even death are all potential consequences of circumcision. Imagine yourself having this decision made for you as an infant. Imagine something going wrong during the procedure or as a result of a subsequent infection. How would you feel if this destroyed your ability to enjoy your sexuality as an adult, and made your chances of finding a life partner significantly more complicated? How would you feel if your healthy infant died from a completely unnecessary surgical procedure? This happens.

Clearly I am opposed to circumcision. I believe it is genital mutilation. If someone suggested that I cut out my own or my daughter’s clitoris for any reason, I would be appalled as would most of you. And yet we persist on cutting off the most sensitive and pleasure giving part of a man’s body. I understand that it is difficult to change cultural norms and to right the host of misinformation out there. Most of the people I know who have chosen circumcision for their sons have done so at the advice of a parent, a doctor, or because they wanted their son to look like their father. But the research simply does not support a medical need, and people can change. There are religious reasons too. But I find that a difficult justification to swallow in the US since most Americans identify as Christians. The New Testament references circumcision at least five times saying that we should leave the body as God made it.

All of our body parts have a reason for being there. Even that crazy appendix is now understood to be part of the immune system. The twelve square inches of highly erogenous tissue that makes up the foreskin of an adult penis has a purpose too—both for pleasure and procreation. Where I live, in the Northwest, just about 70% of baby boys are being left intact as attitudes and awareness change. And just like in other western nations where circumcision is relegated to the Jewish and Muslim populations, the parents of these babies are able to keep them clean and to teach them morals. What’s done is done, but what hasn’t been done need not be. Circumcision is painful, potentially life-changing, and above all 100% unnecessary.

P.S. Do you want to know where all those infant foreskins go when they cut them off in the hospital? They are sold to bandage companies for research.

Life In the Lull

As most of you know, we have our house on the market as we are hoping to move to Pennsylvania this summer. When we decided this winter that the time had come, so many things fell into place. So many signs confirmed our decision. Steve was able to switch into another division of his company that would allow him to live anywhere near a major airport. The change had the added bonus of providing him with more challenges in the workplace. Then our much beloved minister decided to retire. Though her leaving the church did not push us away from our church community, it did provide us with a release. To leave the church with her in the pulpit would have been a difficult task indeed.

Around the same time that our minister announced her retirement, we learned that the State of Oregon was planning to cut millions from school budgets around the state. Our district alone is looking at a 10 million dollar shortfall in the coming year. Though we love our elementary school, the teachers and the principal there, we knew that if things didn’t turn around we wouldn’t be able to keep our kids in public education here. When our oldest started kindergarten, art had already been eliminated. Now the district has music and physical education on the chopping block and are increasing class sizes. The attitude toward education in Oregon is an unfortunate one. The legislature and the populace in general are unwilling to see the value of an educated constituency to the prosperity of the community and to make adjustments to taxation models to create stable funding for schools. So what is there to do when you have two creative and artistic children for whom you want a well-rounded education and you live in Oregon City?

In addition to the bigger issues of education, as a couple we recognized that we weren’t getting enough time together to keep our marriage strong and interesting. The family had been growing but the relationship had not. This was in large part due to a lack of help with the children. As an individual I began to feel trapped in my house by Steve’s job, which requires random travel. The unpredictable nature of his absences made it difficult to participate in any regular activity, including pursuing meaningful work. With increasing amounts of time available, I longed to spread my wings again and find something in the world just for myself. But kids get sick, and in Oregon they get lots of days off of school. I hesitated to make any commitments that I would undoubtedly have to break.

So we did it. We threw ourselves into the river. The water swirled, ran into a brief series of rapids, and then came to a full stop as it fanned wide and deep. If I’m not paying very close attention I have trouble determining the direction to which the river runs. Fate is funny that way. Hurry up to slow down. Frenzy to full stop. My grandmother said to me recently, “God’s watching out for the people who are going to buy your house too.” Sometimes I forget that—that I’m not the only one God cares about. So we wait, wait for the river to show signs of movement, begin to feel the pull, see the clear and narrow path ahead.

I am trying, with increasing difficultly, to see the bright side of this lull, this apparent pond in the middle of a wild river. The kids were able to finish out the school year with their friends. My house is clean and tidy all of the time. I’ll get more time to camp in the gorgeous weather and to see friends. And that’s where I get caught up. The prolonged good-bye is excruciating. I know that every time I look about me could be the last time I am seeing some part of my home of 13 years. It’s like ripping off a band-aid in slow motion. The bright side, the bright side…

I haven’t wanted to spend much time writing or looking into the future these days; thus the lack of posts. Instead I am feeling very “in the moment.” Mostly melancholy, but so very alive. Keenly aware of the budding of each branch, the emergence of each leaf, each berry in my yard of gardens, in my neighborhood of endless trees; the smells in the air, the light at the end of the long days, the changing shape of the countless types of clouds that pass overhead. Present to all that this place and these people mean to me. And that is where I want to be right now. Here, with my sorrow, and with my gratitude, memorizing every detail for those days ahead when I feel displaced—loved, but not yet at home.

So forgive my silence. I’m sure my need “to get it all out, what’s in my head” will prevail in the not so distant future. Know that I think of you all, in both of my homes, present and future, with overwhelming appreciation for your love and support and for the meaning that you bring to my life.