First Things
“Oh, Marc! I think it’s inside!” She was 8 years old, I was 9, and we were in the ditch behind her house. I suppose her excited cries of mock ecstasy were louder than we had hoped, for a few moments later her Dad caught us, quite literally with our pants down. As I recall, Amy was grounded for a week, and I was sent home to face my parents. As strict Catholics, they were naturally shocked and disappointed in their son. I remember Dad saying that he just didn’t know what to do with me. Now to be fair, most adults didn’t know what to do with me, as I seldom slowed down enough to actually notice the chaos I left in my wake.
I do have to give my parents credit, though, they really wanted to help me understand the changes I was going through. After the obligatory lecture on the evils of sex before marriage, Mom brought home a book (appropriate to a 9 year old of course) all about the facts of life. It was one of those books, so popular in the mid-70’s, in which all the illustrations were made up of sanitary geometric shapes that looked like they had been cut out of colouring paper. I remember getting quite excited to be receiving a book with naked people in it, however sanitary they might be, with the added boon of being sanctioned by Mom.
As she handed me the book, Mom made sure to tell me that if I had any questions I could come to her anytime. And for a brief moment, I believed her. Then she said, “It’s a very good book, Marc. I read it, and even I learned something! Did you know that millions of sperm can fit on the head of a pin?” Now to put this in its proper perspective, you need to know that my Mom was the head Registered Nurse at the local hospital. Shouldn’t she already know stuff like this? Besides, she was Mom! She should know it anyway! Such is the logic of a 9 year old…
Needless to say, most of my early sex education came from the pages of that most august of publications, Playboy Magazine. Also needless to say, once I actually became sexually active, I had me some unlearnin’ to do…
By sanitizing my education, as was (and I presume still is) the way things were done, I entered my teens with a very skewed perspective on the opposite sex, one that left me confused and often afraid to try, because I had no idea which end of the tiger to pet. I just knew that if I got it wrong, I might get bitten. From the standard educational channels (school and parents) I picked up the idea that women had little interest in sex. On the other hand, Playboy happily informed me that women were very interested in sex, usually the kind of sex that I thought would be great. It was also the kind of sex that the standard channels told me was dirty and perverse and guaranteed to send me to hell.
By the time I was 17 I was prepared to open the gates of hell myself, if it would only solve the damn mystery for me! You see, in the intervening years I had picked up a myriad of often conflicting beliefs and information about sexual relations. Beliefs like “bigger is better” vs. “It’s not the size of the pencil, but how well you write with it” and so on. I remember over-hearing a gaggle of girls discussing the pros and cons of size on one occasion, with the general consensus that anything over (a certain size) was good, and the further over (that certain size), the better.
This overheard conversation led me to the belief that all I had to do to lose my virginity was to drop my pants and let the girl see what I had. I will refrain from telling the rest of that particular story, as it did not end well, save for an abrupt lesson in how not to get laid…
What I Understand Now
It is in those early years that I think most parents make a crucial mistake. The mistake is not one of “don’t lecture your kids” or “don’t reveal your ignorance”, but rather one of failing to understand why the kids are doing what they’re doing in the first place. They’re not “exploring their bodies” or “curious about the changes…” Fascinated and excited, to be sure, but not exploring and curious in the text book way that these phrases conjure up.
For starters, Amy and I weren’t trying to have sex. Well, we were, except that we had no understanding of what “sex” meant beyond the mechanical application of tab A into slot B. Our bodies had not yet developed enough that we could really understand what the big deal was. Truth be told, at that age I had more lust for the latest issue of Superman than I did for any girl I knew. We were pushing our boundaries and dancing with the dangerous. We were flirting with the scary and enticing world of the adult, trying to envision ourselves as possesing all the freedoms and privileges that adults appeared to enjoy. And that’s what it was really about, just two kids trying to figure out what it means to be “adult”.
Now don’t get me wrong, I needed that lecture and the book did help, at least in my understanding of the biology of the situation. Yet neither it, nor any other educational resources available to me at the time explained it in terms that I could grasp. I was never told that there was a difference between love and sex. Bear in mind that this was the mid 1970’s, a time when “make love” was synonymous with sex, and little distinction was made between the two. I never really figured that particular aspect of it out until I met Dawne, when for the first time in my life, love took precedence over sex amd the sex became all the sweeter for it.
Now herein lies the big question: How do you explain colour to the blind, for when it cones to grasping sex as a life affirming activity, a child hasn’t yet developed the necessary vision required for understanding. Perhaps the answer lies within the question itself, buried in the phrase, “life affirming activity”. Children’s sex ed is largely a matter of learning about sperm and eggs and how babies grow within their mother’s womb. It is a lesson in the mechanical/biological aspects of reproduction, with nary a word spoken about the powerful emotions racing through little Johnny’s veins, save as a reference to hormonal changes.
I’m sorry, but at that age what I felt was curiosity and daring. By age 12, I was starting to feel anger, desire and joy, with every emotion magnified ten times over, then magnified again with lust, jealousy and possessiveness thrown in just to make things interesting. I give you my solemn promise: I did not once feel a single hormonal change. I am also willing to bet that neither did you.
What It Really Means
What I needed, what I believe all children need, is to understand that sex is more than just biology. Even the most casual of liaisons is as much an emotional activity as it is a physical one. They need to be taught, at the appropriate ages, the differences between lust and love, and how the two inter-weave in a healthy relationship. They especially (in my humble opinion) need to be taught that love is not dependent on sex, and neither is sex the poisoned thorn on love’s rosy bloom. But most of all, they need to be taught these things with consistency and respect, understanding that they cannot yet fully grasp what we, as adults, are trying to impart to them.
I will not claim to have all the answers as to how best present the subject to a child, as “best” will change as they grow and mature. What I do know is this: The topics of sex and love must be presented in the lexicon and experience of the child, not in ways that make adults feel “right”. As I once heard someone remark, “They say that you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. Just remember that you can’t lead a horse anywhere if you don’t start where he’s standing!”
As we raise our children to be good, kind and loving adults capable of healthy relationships, we have to start with where they are in the here and now. They know nothing of hormonal changes, and to try and explain away the powerful emotions ripping through their systems as just a function of chemicals and biology is to both belittle the child and demean their experience.
Now, at age 42, many might say that I have matured and am wise in the ways of the world, but I know the truth: As children, the first lesson is always the most powerful. It is the one that lasts the longest and sinks in the deepest, for it is then that we are our most open and vulnerable. Every experience is a new experience adding to our understanding of the world we are forced to live in.
For myself, I know that no matter how many times Dawne tells me that she is as “interested” in me as I am her, somewhere in the back of my mind there is a little boy sitting in a dry ditch. A little boy who just wants to understand. A little boy who is miserable because nobody will tell him which end of the tiger to pet.
One Comment
This is SUCH an intelligent, touching, wise post. I loved it. See? This needs to go in a book!! LOL I know, I know, I keep telling you guys that, but I can’t help myself because it’s so needed. This is also very poignant and covers all the issues. Very well thought out.
Although not a parent, I’ve worked with a lot of kids and have tiny friends in my life. AND I too, like you, remember very well what it was like to be a child. People so often underestimate how easily children can understand things if they presented honestly and at an age appropriate level.
Talk about awareness in kids: I once saw a 6 year old boy, who I knew, watching his neighbor’s dogs play chasings. The two dogs started to have sex and the little boy giggled openly without any shame or embarrassment, then he looked up and me to see how I’d react. When I was totally calm he said, “They’re trying to make babies. My mom doesn’t know I watch them (said like, “don’t tell her LOL), but I’ve seen some dogs try to make babies and they don’t really love each other (said like “It’s okay but it’s not as nice”), but these two dogs really love each other (said with a huge smile).”
Needless to say I was stunned. This kid innately knew several things, two of which were: 1. That his mother might not approve of him watching the the dogs “make babies”. 2. That there is some distinction in sex between two beings that love each other and two that do not.
I was floored, but then I looked back into my own childhood and I realized I saw/knew/felt it all. It was just a matter of how the adults around me responded to what I experienced as truth.
Needless to say I told him that he was very smart to see that the dogs who really loved each other were happier. When I said that, he got such a look of contentment on his dear little face; I thought I would cry. Life is amazing.
Thank you for writing and sharing such powerful thoughts and insights. Just precious.
Hugs to you both,
Robin