Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Sex Ed, Catholic-style
Y’all know I’m not a prude. It’s not like I object to sex education in the schools; in fact, I think we need much more of it, delivered to much younger children. I’ve long thought of sex ed in the schools as a good thing. But I’m starting to rethink my position.
Perhaps the responsibility for sex education should remain with the parents.
The reason for my change of heart? I object to the manner in which my son is being educated. Do you want to know one of the first things they did with the kids? (A mixed class, by the way — whatever happened to separating the boys from the girls? Am I hopelessly square?) They showed them pictures of genitalia. Diseased genitalia.
Mind you, they did not first show them pictures of healthy genitalia.
Do you understand why I’m tweaked? Some of these kids — yeah, precious few, I know, since most kids find porn on the internet about 30 seconds after they first learn to google — but some of these kids have never seen opposite-sex genitalia before, or perhaps just artistically rendered nudity, not full-on wide-open or hanging-out-there packages. And what do they see? Warts. Ulcers. Purulent discharge.
And so for the few ninth graders left who are still mouldable, their first impression will be Ooooh! Grooooss!
I’m likely underestimating the power of sexuality to overcome the Catholic school’s ham-handed attempt to forever make sex = oh gross in the minds of these kids. But still, it bugs the crap at me that they’re trying to indoctrinate my son. Not that he succumbs easily to memes, but just the same, I’ve pointed out to him what’s going on here. Several times. Such that he’s sick of me mentioning it.
I haven’t tried to counter the propaganda with the “sex is beautiful” talk. I embarrass him enough as it is.
D.
I have problems thiking of se as beautiful. It’s sweaty, and sticky, and a liitle gross at times, but it’s fun. And if you don’t laught at some point, you’re not doing it right. But beautiful?? IDK
Back when I was at an all girls Catholic high school in the Middle Ages, sex education taught by the nuns (pretty funny) was limited to about three rules. 1. Don’t do it. 2. Don’t wear pearls because one might possibly see the reflection of your breasts in the pearls. Don’t wear patent leather shoes because one might see the reflection of your crotch. Two girls in my class of 40 had to get married before graduation. Back then people used to say that all the Carholic girls were “fast”. No wonder. We didn’t have a clue.
Maybe in Tennessee we are sexier, but all my children had girlfriends or boyfriends all through high school, and by freshman year I am certain they had seen it all, if not in the flesh, in pictures for sure. But I totally agree with you that Catholic schools are screwed up in the sex
education department. Pearls and patent leather shoes have been my favorites since high
school.
I learned all I needed to learn about sex, Catholic-Style when I was an altar boy and….
wait… scratch that. But I’m 25 and the first thing we saw in school was diseased genitalia as well. public school with no religious affiliation whatsoever.
It didn’t freak me out or anything, but it also didn’t stop me from contracting STD’s on a couple of occasions (nothing permanent, so don’t worry about me). I still would have rather learned that way than from my weirdo dad trying to explain it to me. awkward.
fun blog, BTW
Lucie: sex ed taught by nuns! How Catholic.
I think that most people (well, boys anyway) will get over any ‘eww gross’ indoctrination within about 20 seconds of getting within reach of a real live pussy. I know I did.
Nox: yeah, you’re right. But the trite trope is “sex is beautiful.” Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be telling him?
Lucie: hilarious. Simply hilarious. And here I thought there was only rude interpretation of “pearl necklace.”
Charles: welcome! My blog is fun? It’s fun again, I’m fun again! I have my groove back!
Dean: I was one of those kids who managed to shelter myself until I could see the real thing up close and personal. This was a very conscious decision on my part (my early romantic streak at play). Of course in the old days, it was a lot tougher sneaking a peak, since you’d have to find Hustler at an unguarded newsstand, but still. I managed. And I wouldn’t have done it any differently.
yes… fun indeed. Now lets see if it stops me from getting any more STD’s. Frankly, I’m out of ideas here so i’m combing the blogosphere for different methods
We had a wonderful pediatrician who, with my approval, gave each kid his business card at the appropriate age so that the kid could call if ever there was a problem like an STD or anything else the kid was uncomfortable telling me. So, one day my college age son came to me and asked if he could have my insurance card. So I asked why and he said remember when Dr. X said I could call him anytime if I had a problem? Well the problem was of a delicate nature and he needed a prescription med that was very expensive without insurance. What a great pediatrician. Every kid needs an adult other than their parents that they can turn to when they need help.
I’m so jealous of your son. My only recourse was to ask my mother. She offered to “rub some peroxide on it”….
which didn’t help at all….
Lucie — AMEN. It’s rare that kids want to talk about this kind of stuff with their parents, so you need a backup plan in place. Right now, I’ve primed the Offspring’s Godmother to be the “go-to” person with all things “embarrassing”. (Someone whose morals and values I trust implicitly.) Eventually she’ll also have access on her own to the family doc.
I didn’t have a go-to person, either, which was problematic at times.