I love talking about sex. With kids.
Yes, with kids.
Hear that noise? That’s the sound of America calling Child Protective Services on my ass right now. Please hang up, America. At least hear me out.
As a social scientist, I’ve spent my career researching women’s health in sub-Saharan Africa and the US. I’ve seen great health care and health care so crappy you wouldn’t wish it on a dog. I’ve presented publicly on sexual behavior, discussed vaginal secretions with colleagues of both genders, and published papers on contraception, abortion, infertility, sexually-transmitted infections, you name it. The stuff comes easy to me.
So when I had some kids of my own, I was thrilled at the prospect of doing sex ed right. “What’s right sex ed?” I hear you cry, “Isn’t that a personal decision?” So glad you asked.
Yes, it is personal. My personal view is that I want my kids to be sexually healthy. This includes avoiding disease, coerced sex, surprise pregnancies, and shame in all of its mercurial forms. This puts me at odds with the many, many people who personally value certain moral codes over health, and who have all started dialing Child Protective Services again.
So, how am I going to make my kids sexually healthy? How do you do that? Ladies and gentlemen, in times of uncertainty I turn to the power of science. What does the research show?
At this time please climb under your desks to protect yourself from the avalanche of research showing that sexual health requires comprehensive sex education. You just can’t have one without the other. And abstinence education really stinks: it actually increases the chance of a bad outcome.
So here are my three sex ed ground rules, gleaned from the literature:
- Kids don’t want one "big talk,” they want a running, open dialogue.
- Nuts-and-bolts biology isn’t enough. You also have to talk about the powerful emotions and tricky relationships that come with sex.
- Kids are sexual beings from the moment they are born, in the same way that they are breathing beings, digesting beings, and sneezing beings. All bodily systems are go.
And so we talk. The boys are 6 and 9 now, and sex is as normal a discussion topic as any other. The younger one loves the drama of sperm racing to find the egg. “What about the sperm that swim up the wrong tube!?” he asks. “They’re never going to find the egg. She’s in the other tube, guys!”
When my older guy was about three or four, he happened upon me in the john dealing with a menstrual state of affairs. “What’s that?” he asked, and I was delighted to launch into it. The plaintive cry came from my husband in the other room: “Kate, does he really need to know about that yet?” Seated with solemn dignity on the throne, I yelled back, “Yes! This is exactly when he should know about it!”
This approach is not without its kinks. No matter how many times the kids and I discuss how most people get a little freaked out by sex, and we shouldn’t talk about it at school or other kids’ houses, well… you can guess where this paragraph is going. When my older guy was five he asked the babysitter point blank if she was gay. And here’s a pre-K exchange between my little guy and a class mom at his lunch table at school:
Luckily all the players in these little dramas are goodhearted, and everybody ends up with a funny story for their next cocktail party. (Well, except that one time I was accused of pedophilia. But whatever.)
My older boy is in 4th grade now, and – spoiler alert for readers with kids in his class – sex is already a lively topic on the playground. I hear about it from the boys’ perspective of course: some boys have older brothers, some boys know about “certain things,” some boys are actually interested in girls (still a revolting concept for my son). Good parents of the world, our darling children are already talking about it.
In the end, I know that even the best sex ed doesn’t protect kids from every sexual pitfall, and my boys may have their share of troubles. But at least I’m protecting them as best I can, and I like to think I’m raising a couple of awesome boyfriends for the women of the future. (Or the men of the future, whatever.) We’re also having a lot of fun discovering the world, as always.
OK, America, now you can call Child Protective Services. Or, if you agree with me but don't know how to talk about sex with your kids, get a helping hand here. Either that or send the kids over to hang out at my house. Everybody's welcome.
