Imagine if We Had Sex Education When We Were at School
Image from TV Cream
When I was at school sex education was a bit dry, pun intended. It didn’t really talk about pleasure, it just scolded us, made us afraid of getting pregnant or getting the clap. It was moral, not social. Biological, not logical. It was embarrassing and awkward...in fact we were generally made to feel shame about our bodies and sex. I certainly did, I still do.
That ominous sound of the TV trolley rumbling up the corridor, the curtains being drawn. For any other lesson a treat, but for SE...oh god no!
I don’t remember many details about the actual classes, I just have all these feelings about it. I think many aspects of real life were glossed over a bit. Same sex relationships were barely mentioned. I grew up in a time where some kind of sexual revolution had taken place and our parents were all probably morally loose and it was up to us to be better behaved. I mean, maybe they had a point, my Dad was reportedly pretty wild!
My time was just before HIV and AIDS was better understood and taught about, and way before clause 28. Let’s not forget...as this excerpt from Iyer and Aggletons paper, Seventy Years Of Sex Education starkly points out; anything other than sex within a marriage was seen as dirty or wrong and god forbid you might be homosexual! It all still had a very moral overtone during my school years in the early 80’s.
“As an aside, these issues had also rarely, if ever, been addressed in previous papers on sex education in HEJ (health education journal), excluding papers from the 1940s and 1950s which assumed that homosexuality was, along with masturbation, to be firmly discouraged (Grassberger, 1950; Appelbe, 1955). While definitions of normal sexuality had evidently expanded to include heterosexual relationships outside marriage by the 1980s, the HIV epidemic highlighted the problematic nature of ignoring alternative forms of sexuality, which until that time had been viewed as ‘abnormal’.”
I’ll never erase from my mind what Maggie Thatcher said in 1987 in her speech to conference.
“Children who need to be taught to respect traditional moral values are being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay.”
Absolutely horrific. But this view was held by many at the time and is still tightly gripped by some. This was the era in which I was coming of age; our apparent freedoms being slammed by AIDS/HIV, with clause 28 hot on it’s heels. Fear being used as the primary tool for bashing us with.
So we were allowed to enjoy sex outside of marriage but it was still a bit frowned upon, much shame heaped upon us should we dare, and fear of pregnancy and std’s being held up as the primary outcome of casual sex. There was rarely anything casual about it! Our teachers came from another age and our school still grasped tightly onto it’s former Grammar School glory. It was practically Victorian!
I just remember it all having a bit of a Christian air about it and everyone was a bit uncomfortable. I don’t remember bananas and condoms, maybe this is an urban myth. But it was at the tail end of a time where young ladies (it was an all girls school) just didn’t talk about that sort of thing; that sort of thing being your body, your periods, your urges, your feelings about sex and sexuality. It was all very textbook. So when we rebelliously DID talk about those sorts of things it was still a bit embarrassing and ill informed. Older girls would deliberately alarm us with stories whispered over shared cigs at the back of the playing field.
I had two older sisters so I already knew some of the more pertinent things like periods and changes simply by being around it. I was lucky in that regard.
Then there was this pressure to “do it”, “get it over and done with” and the apparent shame of still being a virgin. It was some kind of war fought by inexperienced and fragile youth with no ultimate or outright winner. On the battleground of hormones and doubt, most of us went in with some kind of fake bravado and came out feeling a bit done for, cheated, dirty! I don’t think the word consent was really invented then, although it was implied, sort of. But the onus seemed to mostly be on us; us girls, us young women. Don’t get raped, don’t get pregnant, don’t get an std. Confused and demented with fear but desperate to play the grown up game, we’d venture into Sex Land mostly unprepared.
We’d expect boys to take the lead as “that’s how it works” and let them do things we weren’t comfortable with yet because we were afraid they’d run away if we didn’t. Too scared to speak out or dare to suggest what we wanted, like a bit of respect, a condom, maybe some foreplay. And if we enjoyed it there was a little smattering of shame included. I remember some of my friends bragging about blow jobs and full sex at 14. Some were already in long term relationships. I was kissing boys and climbing trees...straddling the gap between childhood and a lifetime of romantic disappointment. Harsh maybe, but I don’t know if I’ve really had proper love, always doubting the person sitting opposite me speaking words of adoration. I wanted to believe it so I did...and I got burned...many times.
Now I’m middle aged and I’ve been single for most of my life. Despite a few dalliances here and there and a lot of casual and mostly fun sex, I’ve been on my own. I can pretty much count on one hand (and one thumb) the years I’ve been in relationships, collectively.
When I was young I had such romantic notions about it all; how naive I was. I soon realised I wasn’t really the girlfriend material or marrying kind that certain people desired, and my later more queer leanings took me in a few other directions. I was boy mad as a teenager, my diary from when I was 17 bears this out. A different boy crush on every page and a few lingering ones I broke my heart over. This was a bit of a blueprint for me. Flinging myself at anyone in search of love...or something. Rarely being reciprocated by the ones I really wanted to be with. All of that is in part down to the fact that they didn’t teach you much about self respect within the context of pleasure in sex education in the 80s, there seemed to be a heavy bias towards the old 1950s model of making sure you find someone before you go to seed, have babies, but also have a career and be a banging amazing feminist, but not too much. You had to behave like the shittiest men to break that glass ceiling and you still got paid less than them. I did hold out some hope for a sticker, a stayer, a long termer. Hopes now faded along with most of my oestrogen and I’m ok with that.
Excerpts from my 1985 diary.
Never too late but...it is quite late.
Sex and relationship education (I like the addition) is still a bone (ahem) of contention for many, with parents picketing schools to try to stop their kids being taught it. Lobbying parliament to put a stop to any LGBTQ teachings. Some very religious families don’t want their young people learning about any of it, thinking they should be kept innocent for as long as possible. But it’s been shown time and again how effective a broad, honest and detailed curriculum can help young people navigate the stormy seas of sex and relationships. And with the bonus of a massive dip in teen pregnancies too. When you don’t know how babies are made...babies get accidentally made! The legacy of poor sex education is always high teen pregnancies and std rates.
My Mum didn’t know how babies were made when she had her first. She only knew that sex made babies. She didn’t know much about her body or how to protect it. Sex Ed has come a long way since the post war years and has changed many times. There isn’t an ultimate right way, but an ever evolving way. Adding as we go. Representing ALL types of people and relationships. Giving everyone a chance to find themselves in the text and feel ok about it.
An ever expanding curriculum in most schools gives me hope. We may be in with a good chance of rearing some pretty cool adults. And not just for them but also for my young self. I feel better knowing that all along my feelings were fine. I may not be able to make secure attachments or feel comfortable in my body when it comes to sex, but I feel comfortable in my mind...and that’s a start.
If Sex Education (The Netflix series) had been around when I was a teenager I might have learned to empower myself more. It’s incredible. At times silly of course and a bit unrealistic but it gives absolute and clear permission for people to explore their sexuality, understand their urges, celebrate their differences and take control. It teaches consent and decency, communication and freedom. It shows many different kinds of people and desires and gives them all a legitimate platform. There is no weird, there is no wrong, there is only you. And you are valid.
Oct 2021
TE
Written by Vonalina Cake
My name is Von, I’ve lived in Bristol since 1992 and I’ve lived a lot of lives since then.
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