By: Ann Brown
I am speechless.
This week, a parent in one of my classes said that his high-schooler had to sign an “abstinence contract” in his Health class. Were you aware of this?
Surely, this is the 9th sign of The Apocalypse. Well, maybe the 17th or 18th sign.
Contrary to what you may presume I am about to say, my biggest problem with this is that I don’t think we should be pressuring young people to sign contracts that they have no intention of fulfilling. It’s a legal/ethical thing with me, not a sex thing. It’s a gateway situation. It starts with signing an abstinence contract in high school that you know is a sham and then before you know it, you are Dick Cheney, raking in blood money from the war in Iraq and shooting your friends in the face. It’s a slippery slope.
Thank God, I went to school in the pre Health/Sex Ed days. We had uneducated sex. Which is pretty much the same as educated sex, except without the pop quizzes and grainy filmstrips.
What we did have in terms of preparation for Real Life, in lieu of Sex Ed, was Home Ec. Which is so stupid because in Real Life, offering your man a homemade gym bag in the back seat of his VW van isn’t gonna get a ring on it, you know?
I took Sewing. Yeah, you heard me. Cooking was filled.
Some girls bucked the system and stormed the all-boys elective Woodworking, but, frankly, I was worried that Woodworking was going to be more actual work than Sewing. I mean, it has the word work right in the name. In the end, however, the joke was on me because the chauvinistic Woodworking teacher expected nothing from the girls in his class and they all got “A”s just for showing up, while the skinny bitch Sewing teacher was hell-bent on turning me into Coco fucking Chanel in that junior high school sweatshop of hers.
I got my first “D” in that class. Not because I couldn’t sew for shit (which I can’t) but because I got busted for making a deal with a girl in the class that if she’d sew my gym bag for me, I wouldn’t tell my friends that she stuffed her bra. Evidently that kind of thinking outside the box was frowned upon in my junior high. Can’t blackmail another student.
Which, when you think of it, is really the contract they should have kids sign.
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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