Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Sex ed’


boy with appleMy daughter came home from school the other day with a very important question: “Why would anyone call a vagina a p***y?”

“Where did you hear that word?” I wanted to know.

“Puberty Ed.”

The fifth graders at my kids’ uber-expensive private school have started what used to be called Sex Ed, but is now called Puberty Ed (evidently, it’s OK to teach the kids the word “p***y” but not to use the word Sex), and a big part of the curriculum, it seems, is telling the names of things.

“We learn the medical term, the slang term, and the vulgar term.”

Well, then.

“You know what else they call it, Mommy?  A c***! And did you know that the F-word means sex?”

That’s it! Too much for me!

I’m all for sex ed.  I wrote a post a while back about not telling my kids the facts of life because I didn’t think they were ready to hear them.  But when they were old enough,(for them, that was age 9), I did tell them. I’m not a prude, or squeamish about the subject. I want my kids – my daughter especially – to feel comfortable with their own sexuality.  I want them not to think of sex as dirty or shameful.  What I don’t want, is for them to be learning the words p**** and c*** in school.  From their teachers.

Here’s how it works: the teachers explain the “real” words for the reproductive and sexual organs, the sexual act and various and sundry other words having to do with puberty.  Then they ask the kids what words they know.  And it turns out, they know A LOT of words.

I know that I can’t protect my kids from foul language forever.  And maybe it is better for them to learn the words in a safe environment, where they can understand how they’re different from the “real” words, and why they shouldn’t be used.  But maybe not.  Maybe learning those words in school somehow validates the words themselves.  I think the theory is that letting the kids say the words in a controlled, monitored classroom environment takes away their clandestine thrill. But I’m wondering if all it does is teach them bad words.

I like that school has taught my ten year olds what’s about to happen to their bodies.  I like that the whole process of how babies are made has been de-mystified and de-giggle-fied for them.  But language is a powerful thing.  Words matter.  They don’t teach them bad grammar so they know what good grammar is. They don’t learn the N-word during Black History Month,  or the K-word during the unit on the Holocaust.  Teaching words like those – and like the ones my kids learned at school this week – only perpetuates their use.

It might be naïve to think that simply by not teaching kids bad, demeaning, prejudicial or offensive language that language will just go away.  But wouldn’t it be a nice goal? Wouldn’t it be nice to try?

Read Full Post »


My son patiently explained that when a baby was growing inside of it’s mother, it got all of it’s nourishment from the Polenta.

Perhaps Puberty Education (the new p.c. way of saying sex education) isn’t quite working out.

For years, when my kids asked where babies came from, I told them the truth: they didn’t want to know. And you know what?  They didn’t.  They watched National Velvet and practically fainted when they realized where the baby foal was coming from in the opening scene. I told them that before they were babies they were “ingredients.”  Then after a while I told them the proper names of the ingredients.  And last summer, when they were nine, I told them the rest of it.

They didn’t want to know.

My daughter wanted to know if there were some other way to have babies.  Like maybe how gay people got their babies.  (this is NY – a kid with two dads isn’t news to her.)  My son decided he’s never getting married.

Think maybe I told them too soon?

And I wasn’t the only one.  In puberty ed last week, the teacher brought in a tampon, unwrapped it, showed them how the applicator worked, then doused the thing with water to show how big it got and how absorbent it was.

Oh – and that was in my son’s class.

Why, I ask you, did he need to know that?  At ten?  My husband is almost 50 and he still doesn’t know that much about tampons.

I do want my kids to hear the truth.  I don’t want them to think sex is weird or bad or dirty. I don’t want them to be freaked out by the changes in their bodies. They should be prepared, understand the biology. But maybe TMI is having an effect on them. I’m worried it’s freaking them out, upsetting them, making them more uncomfortable in their bodies rather than less.

So how do you know what to tell them when?  I sure don’t.  Books can help. Friends. Teachers. (Except when they’re showing your kid a tampon!)  But really, it’s you who knows your kid best. I might have misjudged their readiness to know about the facts of life, but I knew how to tell them.  I’m their mother, it should come from me — not from some kid on the playground. But I also know my limits, and when the time comes that my kids are thinking about sex, and birth control, and STDs.  Well, I’m gonna go to the experts.

This months SVMOMS book club pick is The Body Scoop for Girls, by Jennifer Ashton. It’s a comprehensive guide to adolescence, changes in your body, and overall wellness.  And I’m definitely gonna need it.  (it’s gonna be my expert) This post was inspired by the book.

[Disclosure: I received a copy of this book in exchange for this post, for which no editorial guidelines were set.  I received no other compensation.]

If you liked this post, please share the love! (not in a puberty ed sort of way!)

Add to FacebookAdd to DiggAdd to Del.icio.usAdd to StumbleuponAdd to RedditAdd to BlinklistAdd to TwitterAdd to TechnoratiAdd to Yahoo BuzzAdd to Newsvine

Read Full Post »

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 4,217 other followers

%d bloggers like this: