KATHERINE GOTTLI
The Brock Press (Brock University)

ST. CATHARINES (CUP) — To this day, I wish I paid better attention during health class – in particular to chapters five and six of Fully Alive. There are still parts of my body that I’m not entirely sure what their purpose is, or how they interact with other parts to ensure I don’t wake up one morning as a pile of loose flesh.

I’m an adult woman, and I know there are, like, three, maybe four holes “down there”, and I think they all do different things, but whether or not they’re different — I don’t know. Furthermore, I know men have a dink, and that they can do different things with it, but I’m still hazy on how the entire ballsack area works and why it’s even there. Or if ballsack is even a technical term. Also, boobs.

Am I embarrassed and ashamed by all these things? Yes — 100 per cent. However, I’m still educated enough to know that if I let a dinky go into my who-ha without a condom or other means of contraceptive, there is a chance I could end up with an STI or a child, and that is bad. Health class at least got that drilled in to my head. Regardless, the human form, in all its naked glory, is a dark and often frightening mystery to me.

My teachers throughout elementary school approached the subject with just as much humiliation and terror as every single one of the children in their class. They blushed just as hard as my classmates as they spoke in whispers about human sexual organs. They had the “anonymous question box” and answered every question in a rushed and uninformed way: “Does using a tampon mean you’re not a virgin? Well…um…yes? But also no? Yes. I mean, no. Ask your Mom.”

While I by no means solely blame my teachers for my lack of education, they certainly made it seem like being naked was akin to the incarcerated relative that no one talks about. Sex and the human body was taboo, and as a result, has caused a significant number of lingering questions and concerns even in my adult life.

There is a ridiculous notion that refusing to talk about, let alone educate, youth about sex will deter them from having it. That works, right parents? Tell a child not to touch something, and the minute you turn your back, they’re going to touch it. Sex and the human body should not be scary things — that’s what leads young boys and girls to think their bodies are different (i.e. wrong), that being attracted to someone of the same sex is different (i.e. wrong) and that having sex is unnatural or bad (i.e. wrong).

Providing an environment that approaches sex and the human body in an educational, comfortable and accepting manner is the best way to ensure that young men and woman are learning what they need to know, and not being ashamed to ask questions about what they don’t. It encourages confidence and safety when entering relationships, especially those that are sexual in nature, rather than indirectly promoting uninformed, and potentially dangerous decisions.

Sex isn’t scary — in fact, it’s pretty awesome. Sheltering children from knowing that is foolish.

—
Photo: Fernando Stankuns/Flickr