‘Whereas if I met one girl I liked, and spent time getting to know her, came to trust her, and I kissed her, then I’d probably be OK. The most important advice I can give you is this: it all comes down to knowing someone, and eventually trusting that someone special.’
I’ve since learned from attending sex education courses that it was wrong of me to impose my values on the kids, but with them still being so young, it’s better to instil the ideal of having one committed relationship than multiple uncommitted ones. I assumed they’d want to kiss girls, and I didn’t mention same sex attraction, but I still don’t know that I would bring this subject up. It’s not because I think it unnecessary, but with half a dozen nationalities in the class, it’s safer for the kids and for me to keep it as uncomplicated as possible … although I can’t say I’ve ever met an uncomplicated teenager.
It’s not perfect, but I feel like I’m doing some good, which is better than no good at all.
It’s a bit daunting to think that I’m one of the main people of influence at this moment in the students’ lives. Often no one else is telling them the things they need to know, answering their awkward questions or allaying their fears. For a lot of the children, the Christmas or spring break with their parents is too long to wait for an explanation because they’re experiencing things right now. They’re all growing up, some much faster than others, they’re all changing, and insatiably curious.
This was not my first, and certainly not my last awkward conversation about sex with these boys. As I watched the students grow, my role expanded from school nurse to confidant and, well, you wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve heard! Things were about to get much stickier …
When it comes to sex education, I am mostly enlisted to talk to the male students, which is probably good as I have a habit of saying the wrong thing. But sometimes I don’t have a choice …
‘You have to see them,’ insisted Sarah, the dorm parent of the senior girls’ dormitory. I turned to my colleague, Michaela.
‘Does it have to be tonight?’ Michaela asked. She wasn’t eager to talk to the girls either, it was Friday evening and we both had the night off. Sarah was adamant that her dorm desperately needed our input, she even used the term ‘emergency’, but I still wasn’t convinced.
I have lost count of the many ‘emergencies’ I have been in; some were real, some imagined, and some just plain ridiculous. I think interpretation of an emergency comes down to the various life experiences of the people involved.
My problem is that I don’t like saying ‘no’. In this case, I tried to come up with a semi-legitimate excuse. ‘We’ve been drinking,’ I said, indicating the half-empty bottle of red on the table. Sure, we had only had one glass each, but I was desperate for a polite way out. Still, Sarah insisted that the matter was urgent and could not wait.
‘What exactly do you want us to tell them?’ By asking this question I had basically admitted defeat, and Sarah sensed this too.
‘Sex,’ she said. ‘They need a crash course in sex.’
I choked on my wine while Michaela laughed.
I’ve never given an ‘emergency’ sex talk before. Exactly what was Sarah expecting the girls to do that night? And what could I say that would make any difference? Was I supposed to discourage them from doing it? Was that even allowed? Perhaps I’m just supposed to encourage them to ‘play safe’.
As a school nurse, sex education is just part of the job. It’s strange how people think that just because you’re a nurse, you’re qualified to talk about anything physical. There is a difference between being a nurse who communicates one-to-one with a patient, and actually teaching a class. But I usually get by. I worked in an STD clinic before, so I did have some ‘hands on’ experience.
‘Can’t this wait till Monday?’ Michaela asked. It could wait, but non-medical people often get worried about things that really aren’t urgent, and Sarah was convinced that this was the best time; in her defence, there had been a high number of ‘incidents’ this year.
These included:
• A complaint from some locals living near the school about a boy getting blow jobs between morning classes, on a regular basis. The couple obviously thought the bushes behind the car park safe, but they forgot that they live on a slope, and that people living above them can see everything. The neighbours were able to give a very accurate description of the boy’s face. It also explained why Johan the Swede was always late but cheerful in classes.
• A close call with a Hepatitis C epidemic. Fortunately this was a false alarm, but while we were waiting for the blood results we did have to track down all sexual contacts. The chain of connection showed that nearly every sexually active person in the school had a sexual link to everyone else.
• A build-up of used condoms on the terrace outside the boys’ dormitory.
• Three boys suspended for having spent the night in the girls’ dorm.
• A hidden ‘sex-pad’, which was discovered in the attic of the school hall. It had been furnished with mattresses, candles, refreshments and several packets of condoms.
The frightening thing was that for every problem we knew about, there were bound to be two more we didn’t, so, with a sigh, Michaela and I agreed to do the talk together.
On our way out the door Michaela grabbed some condoms and told me to bring the bananas from her kitchen.
Our strategy was simple; Michaela would talk about sex from a woman’s perspective, and I’d agree with everything she said. Nothing should go wrong.
‘What’s he doing here?’ we were asked on arrival. The voice sounded American and belonged to a blonde lass in the front row.
‘Don’t complain, this should be interesting,’ replied her neighbour.
‘Do we get to practise on him?’ said another, and the room erupted in laughter.
My face turned red. What on earth was I doing? I had walked into the lion’s den and I had nothing to appease these seventeen- and eighteen-year-old women. I didn’t feel like an educator. If anything, I was sure I was the one about to get the education. ‘I can’t do this,’ I whispered to Michaela. She’d be fine doing this with Sarah, without me.
‘No bloody way. You’re not deserting me now,’ she whispered back.
I’ve faced some pretty hairy things during my time in the emergency room, but I’ve never felt as vulnerable as I did right then. The girls were giggling, chatting, even pointing. I resisted the urge to look down and make sure my fly was done up.
‘Right ladies, settle down,’ Sarah began. ‘We’ve got two special guests tonight who have kindly given up their time to talk to you this evening. Please make them feel welcome.’ There was a brief round of applause before we got to work.
Michaela and Sarah took two steps back, leaving me stranded.
‘Right, well, so … I hear that you need some educating about boys,’ I began.
‘We know all about boys,’ said the American blonde in the front, her manner smug, her eyes searching the crowd for support.
‘Give him a chance, Skylar,’ someone from the back responded. ‘I’ve never had a sex talk by a man before. Let’s hear what men think about girls.’
I wasn’t there to tell them what men think about girls, or was I? ‘You want me to tell you what guys think