No woman has ever benefited from knowing less about her body. Alarmingly, being under-informed can have serious consequences for women biologically. An unsophisticated, high-school-level education on female anatomy and physiology can affect her studies and even her success.
Cervical cancer is the fourth most common cancer in women and the second most common among women of reproductive age (15- 44) worldwide. This form of gynecologic cancer is primarily initiated by an oncovirus infection when exposed to the human papillomavirus (HPV), accounting for more than 90 percent of all cases. HPV is the most common sexually transmitted disease, affecting both men and women equally. Yet, there is an unequivocal health disparity, with HPV-associated cancers disproportionately affecting women.
Four in five American women will acquire an HPV infection at some point in their life. This doesn’t make them unclean or promiscuous—it’s simply a part of being human. Even a faithful, married woman can acquire HPV, and this has no bearing on her character and does not indicate bad morals. There is also the possibility of non-sexually acquired HPV, where someone with a history of non-penetrative sexual contact can test positive for the virus.
HPV infects sexually active individuals with over 200 different strains, which are classified as either non-oncogenic (non-cancer-causing) or oncogenic types. HPV 16 and HPV 18, among other strains, carry the highest risk of cancer development. High-risk HPV strains insert their genome into the DNA of our basal epithelial cells lining reproductive organs, hijacking cells to propagate new viral particles. This makes microtrauma from sex a significant facilitator for viral entry.
HPV is a relatively invisible virus lurking at low levels unless symptoms arise or routine STI screenings identify its presence. Ninety percent of the time, the immune system can recognize, attack, and clear a non-invasive infection; viral genome replication of lower-risk strains is largely diminished or absent, while high-risk infections can induce tumor growth. Let’s imagine ourselves five, 10, and even 20 years into the future, facing the potential onset of abnormal, precancerous tissue. This is a real and not-so-distant health concern.
These rather gruesome statistics should not overshadow the good news. HPV-altered cells are confined to the genital region, making it amenable to prevention, detection, and treatment.
Modifiable risk factors include sexual practices and vaccination. While condoms do not completely prevent transmission of HPV, they significantly decrease the risk and rate of infection by 70 percent. Condom use also prevents HPV-affected lesions from advancing to cervical intraepithelial neoplasia following previous exposure. The Gardasil vaccine stimulates a strong, defensive immune response from pre-cancerous HPV strains, boasting 97 percent effectiveness. Correct and consistent use of condoms, coupled with the Gardasil vaccination, provides the highest degree of protection against HPV types with invasive, oncogenic potential.
Many colleges support risk-reduction efforts concordant with the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act’s contraception mandate—providing options for contraception, dispensing reproductive health resources, and democratizing health information. Jesuit institutions, however, deliberately oppose implementing such access and health precautions to discourage sexual activity—Boston College being a prime example.
It doesn’t have to be this way, though. Notre Dame—an overtly religious and conservative college—is a stunning example. It acknowledges the medical needs of all students, embracing care for the mind, body, and spirit in its entirety. This neither compromises the teachings of the Catholic faith nor the needs of its students. Equating basic health safeguards with endorsing sexual activity is as illogical as claiming that enforcing seat belts encourages reckless driving. I would certainly hope that women’s health isn’t trivialized in the way New Hampshire’s “Live Free or Die” seat belt laws are—expendable and left to chance.
BC offers robust support services for pregnancies and parenting-related needs, outlining maternity leave and accommodations, and even providing on-site lactation rooms. If BC doesn’t provide contraception to prevent an unwanted pregnancy in the first place, why not do so in the interest of delivering a healthy baby? A slew of diseases and infections can affect pregnancy or childbirth through vertical (maternal-to-fetal) transmission. Providing preventative resources aligns with BC’s stated commitment: “We hold the emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being of a woman, the child, and those who care about them, in a strong network of support.”
BC withholding resources directly undermines every woman’s right to autonomous decision-making and mental well-being—there is a strong, proven link between the two. BC women are limitless, driven, self-directed, and brilliant. They are also unique individuals with diverse needs. To limit the opportunity for infection is to discriminate against non-Catholic, lower-income, unmarried, and even pregnant women.
Genital HPV infections aren’t any less ubiquitous on Jesuit university campuses. Reaching a certain hypothesis about health outcomes among women on Jesuit campuses, especially BC, is simple logic.
On campus, silence about women’s health serves no one. Intimate health scares are a public concern and should be treated as such. All the while, every woman maintains the right to her own body and lifestyle choices while having her safety optimized. The current attitude toward women and their reproductive health is shrouded in shame and assigns blame. This undermines the protection of women of different socioeconomic, religious, and cultural backgrounds, including those who are immunocompromised.
Student organizations and activists have consistently challenged the silence and stigma surrounding reproductive health access and literacy on campus. While efforts to make the University aware aren’t futile and should continue to resist deterrence, a complete overhaul to the University’s sexual health policy, inaptly titled the “Student Sexual Misconduct Policy”, seems unlikely.
We are not stranded in a contraception desert but rather find ourselves at the epicenter of medicine and innovation. On the periphery of Boston, we are surrounded by quality information. While this information may not be readily accessible on campus, consider this piece both a resource and resistance.
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