I remember sex ed in high school well. Mostly because it taught me nothing (they actually called it “health class”), but more so because I got kicked out the very first day. At my high school, they decided to budget out sex ed like I’m sure they did with most schools. I imagine at the teacher’s staff meeting they pulled straws to see which sucker was going to have to forfeit half their curriculum to lecture a bunch of ungrateful brats about condoms and pregnancy. My home ec teacher lost the battle and ended up being our sex ed teacher for part of the year. You could see the disappointment in her retinas when she broke the news to us: “For the next month, we will be doing sexual education instead of home ec.”
Giggles dispersed from most of the classroom. Mostly because we were already all gearing up to be our own individual brand of sluts.
I spaced out on the first day. During lunch hour before class, I got stoned and walked into class a bit late. Everyone was sitting down at their desk clumps, quiet and ready as our teacher was fiddling with something on top of the overhead projector. When she turned around, a big, fat erect penis made of wood was just sitting there pointing up to the ceiling like a rocket ship.
“Hey, a woody!” I called out. Our teacher spun around and pointed her finger towards the door, “Get out.”
It was kind of a blessing in disguise. Who wants to listen to a woman in her late 30s talk about sex in her best matter-of-fact-but-oh-so-PG 13 voice when you are high?
I got a lot of punishments in home ec class for tardiness. One time, our teacher punished my desk group by forcing us to give the cookies we baked to the teachers lounge. We spit big, snotty loogies into the dough and bit off our finger nails and sprinkled them in as well. We contemplated tossing in the bandaid that was on my thumb but decided that was a dead give away. Teenagers are real pieces of shit sometimes.
When I was invited back to sex ed class, the lectures were all pointless. By that time most of us had been experimenting in our own ways and some of my more voluptuous friends had fallen to the pressure of their gorgeous, womanly tits and even had sex with the older boys at our school. Those girls were the ones who got all the questions. They were the real sex ed teachers: informing us about the reality of sex, blow jobs and finger-banging while our home ec teacher was busy forcing us to make posterboard projects about STDs.
In what world is making a giant poster with pictures of chlamydia-infected genitals “sexual education”?
The whole thing felt completely ridiculous to me. What was I learning about the reality of sex: the constant and one-sided pressure for girls to give oral and not receive it, the awkwardness of our first time or the places where we could obtain birth control without having to tell our strict parents?
Furthermore, there was no open discussion. No questions, just fearful lectures about pregnancy or sexually transmitted diseases. We did not talk about possible condom allergies. We did not talk about healthy ways to explore our own bodies and figure out pleasure.
In fact, pleasure (a hugely important part about love and sex) was not even a part of the conversation. The male orgasm was talked about like this demon seed we should fear with our lives, but pleasure for us girls? Nonexistent.
What about gay or lesbian relationships? There was no talk about gender identity or transgender or bisexuality or anything but good old fashion dick in vagina fear talk. Oh, and the wooden dick which our teacher showed us how to put on condom on. But don’t worry, the posterboard project on HIV was all we really needed to know. I’m not blaming my home ec teacher. She did not ask to inform us about sex. She just drew the short (and very shitty) straw.
What I am blaming is our culture, which somehow views talking about sex and sexuality in school with kids as this evil thing that should be feared with every fiber of our being. Why not talk about this most natural, beautiful – and yet slightly high-risk – part of life in a responsible, normal way? Why was there no open dialogue? Why wasn’t there a person like ME teaching the class?
I mean, I feel like I could have kicked that classes ass so hard it would have cum in its curriculum book.
EMAIL MISH
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