Female athletes, religious Americans, and culture warriors are celebrating President Donald Trump’s Jan. 20 executive order “Defending women from gender ideology extremism and restoring biological truth to the federal government.”
“Ideologues who deny the biological reality of sex have increasingly used legal and other socially coercive means to self-identify as women and gain access to intimate single-sex spaces and activities designed for women,” the order read, citing women’s domestic-abuse shelters and workplace showers as newly-protected spaces.
Here’s another reason to cheer: This order has the potential to protect the very existence of single-sex spaces. Advocates for this measure highlight locker rooms and bathrooms as the hallmark examples of single-sex environments we need to guard. But single-sex schools and programs are vulnerable too, and just as important to the health of our country.
A graduate of seven years of all-girls education, I am one of the 19% of American adults who have attended a single-sex school at some point. My experience attests to the importance of this option for American children. A fully female environment — the janitor and school chaplain were the only men in the building — cultivated deep friendships amid the most tumultuous years of adolescence, gave us a multitude of female role models, and allowed our teachers to tailor classes to the ways we learned best. The same happened at the all-boys school our brothers and friends attended.
Studies have found single-sex classrooms or schools reduce distractions and the pressure of negative gender stereotypes, as well as enhance student focus and confidence, all things I observed in my own life. At my school, girls who were more athletic or interested in math and sciences were encouraged in their interests, not shamed. There was less drama than you’d expect.
Single-sex environments have their own pitfalls, and ours was no exception. But the virtues of this environment shaped who I am today, preparing me and my classmates well for the world beyond our school.
Now imagine a biologically-male transgender student had applied to our school, been denied, and claimed this was transphobic discrimination — not an impossibility in the relatively liberal area of my school. If he and his parents had sued, it could potentially have bankrupted our school. If we’d been forced to admit him, even if the student used the male bathroom and locker room, it would have undercut the very mission of the school.
Before this year, a well-organized campaign could have threatened the very existence of small single-sex schools across America — much like the gay-rights advocates who threatened to put baker Jack Phillips out of business before his multiple Colorado and U.S. Supreme Court rulings.
The same goes for single-sex summer camps, athletic programs, and trips. Even here at Hillsdale, we benefit from single-sex dorms, workout classes, and events. Only by culturally and legally recognizing two biologically-determined sexes can we preserve the delicate security of single-sex environments and guard them for future generations.
As Luke Miller argued in last week’s edition of The Collegian (“Stating the obvious is protecting your church”), this measure needs to become a permanent law passed by Congress to endure beyond this administration. As voters, and as voices in American public discourse, we need to lend it our support.
Trump’s order doesn’t only guard the future of female athletics, Christian institutions, and safe locker rooms. It determines which programs and educational opportunities we will be able to offer to our children one day. Whatever your political persuasions, this is something to celebrate.
Caroline Kurt is a junior studying English.
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