I first heard about Title IX after asking the question all girls do when they turn 21 and are allowed to speak for the first time: “What comes after Title VIII?” Unfortunately there was no one around to hear me, because I was in day 44 of solitary confinement at the Medford Correctional Facility for Woman. I was in jail because of that time Prof. Robert Neer Jr. said to me “Liana, there’s no need to sound so hysterical,” and I brutally murdered him on the spot. This actually wasn’t my first murder, but I don’t think they know about the other four, because the victims were all about to commit suicide anyway.
Ten years later, once I was out of conventional prison and instead “imprisoned” by the strict Gen Ed requirements here at Harvard, I asked the question again: “What comes after Title VIII?” Luckily this time, I was in a 200-person lecture, and it was an extremely quiet moment because the professor had just yelled “JESUS CHRIST DID SOMEONE FART IN HERE?” This kid Johnny raised his hand and said “Title IX? Also I didn’t fart but I did shit myself several minutes ago and not realize until just now.” Then his friend Sarah raised her hand and said “Murder? Suicide? Poop? Wow, this Crimson article is really checking all the boxes for me.” And that’s how I found out about Title IX, which I honestly think is extremely offensive because it assumes gender as a binary and not a “buffet of genitals,” as I believe it to be.