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Thursday, October 27,1994
UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN
Let's talk about sex. baby.Let's talk about you and let's talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be.
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for it to be offered," he says, shrugging.
Students also think that offering Dailey's class each semester shouldn't be that difficult. On Oct. 5, Student Senate passed a resolution calling upon the vice chancellor for academic affairs to take whatever means necessary to ensure that the class is offered each semester.
A man with a mission
David Shulenburger, vice chancellor for academic affairs, says neither the college nor social welfare has acted inappropriately, and he doesn't plan to alter the decision at this time.
For Dailey, providing students with information about sexuality and relationships is more than a class assignment. It's his mission.
"This class is so desperately needed," Dalley says. "Students spend so much time getting a liberal arts education and preparing for vocational work. I think we need to prepare students for the other half of their waking lives."
It's working with students that makes his job fascinating. Dalilev savs.
"I just think undergraduates are some of the most interesting people on the face of the earth," he says. "They're sweet and endearing, and it's just fun to hang around people who are learning."
Dailey draws students into his own life, sharing his own experiences and beliefs. He divulges both the entertaining and the painful.
In class, Dailey exudes enthusiasm. He is on stage, telling jokes and stories.
"I never know how I'm going to be with this emotionally," he tells his students as he recalls an upsetting discussion with his cousin. "If I lose my cool, I'm really OK."
He tells students about disturbing disagreements with his father. He tells students about sexual misinformation he picked up from his friends as a teenager. He tells students about questions his daughters asked about sex.
It is about as up close and personal as a teacher can get. A class period may be devoted to discussing masturbation or viewing a movie portraying homosexual encounters.
"It's just like any other class," he says. "If you're bothered by learning fractions, don't come to class the day fractions are taught. If you're bothered by masturbation, don't come to class that day."
Dailey doesn't shy away from discussing sensitive subjects. And he certainly isn't shy about saying what he thinks.
"If something's bullshit, I call it bullshit—even in class," Dailey says. "Occasionally, I try to curb my swearing for fear I will offend someone. But as a general rule, I speak what's on my mind."
A passion for his work
Dalley's colleagues say the human sexuality class is his passion.
"He has a mission," says Rick Spano, professor of social welfare and a close friend of Dailey's. "And his mission is to teach people about sexuality."
First and foremost, Dailey is a teacher, Spano says.
"Anything else is peripheral," he says. "He is not particularly concerned with the politics of academia, and he pretty consciously stays out of that."
Dalley is mindful of rules and committees, but they often frustrate him. The answering machine in Dalley's office tells callers that he is either in class or "in a meeting that causes brain death."
Spano describes Dailey as one of the most committed and focused peo-
mitted and focused people he knows.
"He has such an incredible zeal about what he does," Spano says. "He does an incredible job, but his missionary zeal can be intimidating. People react very strongly to him one way or the other."
Sometimes it's "the other."
Carl Burkhead, professor of civil engineering, says Dailey's class is immoral.
"Based on what I've been told about the class, I think he encourages sexual promiscuity. Burkhead says." His approach is a freewheeling one, and I think that any class that encourages students to practice sex before marriage is very
wrong. Dennis seems like a neat guy, but I strongly disagree with his morals."
Although his colleagues in social welfare say they respect Dailey and that his class should be taught, they acknowledge that some within the University and the community don't feel that way.
Teresa Odell, a registered nurse, has attended Dalley's class and says Human Sexuality in Everyday Life shouldn't be taught the way Dalley teaches it.
Dalley is aware of his critics but is amused by the notion that students have sex at his urging.
"What is so disconcerting is his irreverent approach to human sexuality," Odell says. "Professor Dalley goes for shock value instead of teaching responsible behavior. I think students need to understand that sex can be a blessing, but it can also be dangerous."
"I don't think that people go out and bake each other's brains out because Dalley said so," he says. "People have sex because they're horny, because they're in love or because they care for each other."
Daley says that in his class he explores both the positive and negative aspects of premarital sex. He
"Do I think sex before marriage is a sin? Personally, no," he says. "Do I think it can cause problems? Sure. Do I think it can be bombastically wonderful? You bet I do."
does not, however, come down on either side of the issue. *
Dalley says he will continue to speak freely about sexuality and relationships both in and out of the classroom, just as he always has. Dalley, a certified sexologist, has a sex therapy practice and travels the country giving presentations on sexuality issues.
Five years ago, Dailey had his own call-in radio show, "Let's Talk Sex" on the Lawrence station KLZR 105.9 FM.
"The show lasted about a year and a half, but it ended partly because we lacked a delay to weed out the yahoo calls we would get," Dailey says. "I've always felt kind of bad that it went off the air because there just aren't that many places people can go when they have questions about sexuality."
Dennis Dalley lectures his class on "masturbation day." Daily devotes one class period to the subject each semester.
The radio show was one of the many ways Dailey hoped to inform people about sex.
Judith Seifer, president of the American Association of Sex Educators, Counselors and Therapists, calls Dailey a nationally known and respected figure in the field of sexology.
"I really want to use all of my training to help people," he says. "You can talk about helping until hell freezes over, but that's very different than doing it."
"He truly is considered one of the master clinicians and educators in the field of sexology." Seifer says. "He continually reminds people that this is supposed to be fun."
His strength is his openness, Seifer says. His flaw,
perhans, is his passion.
"He is so open and so generous, and he doesn't feel like he needs to guard his life as a secret," she says. "But he cares so deeply and so passionately for what he does that he sometimes sets himself up for disappointment."
Dailey says he has been disappointed by the University — most recently by the elimination of the spring sexuality class.
"I'm very, very disappointed," he says. "I'm committed to this class, and I'm sad that the opportunity won't be there for students next semester."
Denny and Judy
"I was a shy girl who grew up on a farm, and he was this tall, handsome senior who was very funny and gregarious." undy Dailev says.
In his junior year, Dalley altered his focus to sociology and psychology. It was during Dalley's senior year in 1969 that he met Judy Brown, who was then a freshman at Hainline.
When Dailey entered Hamline University in St. Paul, Minn., in 1956, he planned to go on to the ministry.
Dalley returned to school to do his doctoral work at Washington University in St. Louis, and it was there that he first did research in the area of sexuality.
"At that time, Masters and Johnson was doing research in St. Louis, and I became associated with that project," Dailey says. "The topic was exciting and interesting, and I enjoyed studying it."
After completing his doctorate in social work, Dalley joined KU's social welfare faculty in 1969. His interest in studying sexuality continued, and Dalley spent three months at the University of Hawaii taking classes on sexuality. In 1973, he became a certified sexologist.
Judy Dalley, who earned her bachelor's and master's degrees in social work from KU, says her husband's profession has little bearing on their marriage.
"It's hard to know if he would be different if he weren't a sexologist, but I really don't think he would be," says Judy Dailey, who now works as a part-time social worker. "He's a very sensitive, caring person, regardless of the work he does. It's just a field of work, and I don't think it makes life too much different."
Although she is proud of "Denny's" accomplishments, Judy Dalley seldom attends her husband's presentations or lectures.
"To be quite honest, I don't like the attention," she admits. "I'd much sooner stay in the background and let him do his own thing."
Dailey says, is an equal one. He refers to Judy Dailey not as his wife but as his partner.
"I don't call her my wife because she doesn't belong to me," he says. "What we have is an equal partnership."
Their marriage, Dennis
The Dalleys' home is a study in history. Built in 1858, the house in East Lawrence sits on five acres and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
Their property, which includes a red and white turn-of-the-century barn and a stone outhouse, was a stop on the underground railroad in the 1860s.
"We feel like we are so lucky to live here," Judy Dalley says. "Once you pull in the driveway, you really do feel like you're in the country, even though you're in the middle of Lawrence."
Their home is furnished almost exclusively with antiques, from its cast-iron doorstops to the antique quilts.
Back in his office in the basement of Twente Hall, Dalley displays another antique: tobacco plug boxes, manufactured by the Climax tobacco company.
Dennis Dailey keeps two black pygmy goats on his property. Dailey also has a dog and seven cats. "In the spring, we plan to get chickens," Dailley says. "We just think that chickens would be fun."
Dennis Dalley and his wife, Judy, watch the sun set from the barn behind their home in East Lawrence. The Dalleys, who met at Hamline University, have been married for 33 years.
"Students come to talk to me about all sorts of things," Daileys says. "Sometimes it's little things, or sometimes it's someone coming to tell me she's been raped. Some days, students just break my heart, but I'm glad they can talk to me."
"Aren't those fabulous?" he says, pointing to the faded brown boxes. "Somehow, I just thought those were appropriate."
While Dailey talks, the door to his office remains open. It is always open to students, whether they have questions about the class or want to talk about personal problems.
There will be fewer undergraduates at his door next semester, and Dalley says he has accepted this.
"Life will go on," he says. "But I do worry that eventually my sexuality class won't be offered at all. I'm committed to staying at this University, but the thought of not having this class scares me."
Ann Weick, dean of social welfare, says she plans to continue offering the class once a year for now. However, there are no guarantees.
"We always have to re-evaluate classes based on our budget," she says.
For now, Dailey relishes the time he spends each day with students. It is students,he says,who make his job fun.
"For the most part, if Adults rather bored," he says. "Adults often are stuck in roles. I think a lot of adults have forgotten that they were once children. They've forgotten how to play."
Students, Dalley says, usually are genuine. They still are in the process of learning and growing.
"I just think that students are unbelievably fascinating — compared to rocks, for example," he says. "I have colleagues who are very fascinated with rocks, but I really prefer students."
The Dailies enjoy spending time together in their historic home, which was built in 1858. Their home was a stop on the underground railroad in the 1860s.