Modesty, part I: Sex ed

A Return to Modesty: Discovering the Lost Virtue by Wendy Shalit

I am currently reading this book. It is giving me a great deal of food for thought, and has afforded me an opportunity to elucidate my own thoughts on this subject.

Since I became a mother, I have experienced an increased impulse towards modest dress, including covering my hair. I have been somewhat at a loss as to why. Wendy Shalit's discussion does not rest on any particular religious doctrine or argument, and she has made some valid (and some perhaps not-so-valid) critical points about the society in which we live.

In the first chapter of her book, she takes a stance against sex education in the public schools. At first, this rubbed me the wrong way. I sincerely believe sex ed is important. Young people should be informed and armed with information about sex, safety, and social roles. But then I chewed on the idea some more, and I think she has a point. Often, sex ed in school does not teach things in a developmentally appropriate way. Note I did not say, "age-appropriate". I think that's part of the problem. When dealing with masses of school children, there is a strong tendency to base things on age. Instead, I think sex ed should be the responsibility of parents, who should provide information to their individual children in accordance with their individual maturity and need to know.

For an example of this, I give you the blowjob. At the age of 14, as a high school freshman, I did not know what a "blowjob" was. This despite having borrowed the book "Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Sex But Were Afraid To Ask" from the public library at the age of 11. (Borrowed, I might add, without checking it out. I was too embarrassed. After all, what if the librarians told my mom?) I knew what fellatio was.

But "blowjob" was a slang term I'd never encountered. So, in my naive and curious way, when someone cracked a joke I didn't get that involved the term, I piped up, "What's a blowjob?"

No one in my little lunch clique would tell me. They all laughed at me instead. Including my best friend, Amy. For the rest of high school, any of my friends asking "Hey, Jodi, what's a blowjob?" would send the whole table into fits of merriment.

I had to go home and ask my mother. I was blessed with the sort of mother one can ask these sorts of questions. It is my staunch belief that parents who aren't that sort are failing their children in the sex ed department. Children don't need a sex ed curriculum. They need parents willing to answer their questions without embarrasment on the part of the adults, sensitive to the fact that the process is unlikely to be without embarassment on the part of the young people.

Years later, my friend Amy pointed out that she hadn't known what a blowjob was, but she'd had the sense to keep her mouth shut about it. While just as naive as I about sexual matters, she was far more socially adept.