The Vagina Doodles.

Graphics by Kylie Adedeji

On my freshman dorm floor, like many others across campus, there’s a little whiteboard on nearly every student’s door. It's kind of wholesome — an easy form of communication and bonding with the complete strangers you now share a bathroom with. However, with this fun dorm practice comes vandalism, and without fail, there’s one universal form of whiteboard defacement that reigns supreme: the cartoon penis.

You know what I’m talking about: that classic, oversimplified doodle of male genitalia that everyone seems to draw. My friends at other schools have shared similar stories. Whiteboards, bathroom stalls and desks, all defaced by the same glorious phallic artwork. The cartoon penis has been burned into the fabric of our culture, so much so that it’s normalized. We laugh. We move on.

But here’s my question: why is it always a penis? And more importantly, why don’t we ever see cartoon vaginas?

One SU freshman offered a possible answer: “Penises are easier to draw. No one knows how to draw a cartoon vagina.” But last time I checked, cartoon penises look nothing like their real-life counterparts either. It’s clearly not about accuracy. It’s about cultural norms. No one’s even bothered to dumb down vaginas for the sake of vandalism.

So, I decided to give it a try. For every whiteboard penis I saw, I retaliated with a cartoon vagina.

The results? Not great.

My masterpieces of female genitalia were met with immediate erasure and, in some cases, outright disgust. Meanwhile, the penis doodles continued to thrive, untouched and proudly on display. In fact, when asked about the possibility of seeing cartoon vagina vandalism, another SU freshman shared “I feel like that'd be weirder. I’d be more taken aback. It would definitely draw my attention — I don’t even notice the penises.”

I thought I was doing a public service, introducing some artistic diversity. But apparently, cartoon vaginas were just too avant-garde for the masses.

So why the fixation on cartoon penises? Penis drawings, while crude, feel innocent, even goofy. Society has trivialized them into something silly — a caricature of masculinity that’s funny, but never taken seriously. They’ve been a staple of male humor for decades. Think of movies like Superbad, where entire scenes are dedicated to glorified penis sketches. It’s normalized. It’s harmless. It’s a joke.

But vaginas? Not so much. Even in their simplest form, they’re seen as inappropriate or vulgar. It’s hard not to wonder if the answer to all my questions lies in a deeply rooted cultural double standard.

The stigma around female bodies and their representation runs deep. From the way girls are taught to “cover up” from a young age, to how women’s bodies are hypersexualized in the media, it’s clear that vaginas — like the women who have them — are subject to scrutiny in a way that penises aren’t.

Women have always faced societal pressure to hide their bodies. Even in art and culture, the female form is rarely neutral. It’s either objectified or shamed. In contrast, the male body, particularly the penis, can be both humorous and inconsequential. But this discrepancy speaks to a broader issue: the imbalance in how we treat male and female bodies, not only in humor, but in life.

So, what’s the solution here? I say let’s normalize cartoon vagina vandalism in the name of equality. If cartoon penises can be funny, then so can cartoon vaginas. By making female genitalia part of the same irreverent, lighthearted humor, we can start breaking down the taboos that surround women’s bodies.

It’s a small act of rebellion, sure, but it’s also a push toward normalizing all bodies, not just the ones society has deemed “acceptable” for a doodle or joke.

After all, if we’re going to vandalize whiteboards, why not make it an equal opportunity offense?