Filling In the Blanks
TYLAR WILLIAMS, MPH, CHES | RESEARCH COORDINATOR
This fall is my first foray into teaching sex education to middle schoolers. As I’ve transitioned into my role as a health educator, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what my teaching style will be and how I’ll be able to connect with my students. The best way I could think to prepare, aside from reviewing the curriculum, was to reflect on my own experiences with sex ed. What did I like? What did I dislike? What did I wish I learned growing up? My first introduction to formal sex education was around 4th or 5th grade and as I was reflecting on those questions I realized that a lot of my sex education started well before then.
My mom, a registered nurse, started her own age-appropriate and medically accurate sex ed course with me at the ripe old age of two. As a medical professional she knew just how important these conversations were for my development. When I was younger our talks mainly centered around the proper terms for my body parts and consent. She made sure that I knew my body was mine and no one else has a right to it, not even people I know. I always had the right to say no. As I got older, we started talking about what healthy relationships, friendly or romantically, looked like and of course how to be safe whenever I decided to become sexually active. One particularly special thing about our conversations was that it was never from the perspective that I would be punished for doing anything, so I felt very safe talking to my mom about any and everything. This laid a crucial foundation for me as I grew up and to this day shapes the way I operate in the world.
It wasn’t until I was in my late teens that I realized that the conversations I had with my mom about bodies, sex and healthy relationships we’re a bit unique compared to my peers. Many of the things I told my friends I discuss with my mom were met with “Girl, what? I would never tell my mom that!” I thought everyone’s parents spoke freely with them about these topics, but many of my friends said they didn’t feel comfortable talking to their parents about that back then, and many still don’t. For many millennials, sex education only happened in school and from questionable magazine articles (I’m looking at you Cosmo). I now see how fortunate I was to have someone filling in the blanks. The things I wasn’t able to learn in school, my mom taught me at home.
I’m excited to work with the Institute of Women & Ethnic Studies and teach the curriculum we’ve created because, as my mother did for me, it will allow me to help fill in the blanks for my students. I hope that they’ll see me as a resource and feel comfortable asking me any questions they have. Often times, the first thing that comes to mind when people think about sex ed tends to be pregnancy and STI prevention, but there is so much more to it than that. Pregnancy and STI prevention are super important, but so are the lessons on mental health, healthy relationships, and the wild ride we call puberty.
When I was younger I didn’t always understand why my mom was so adamant about having these discussions with me or why we had to spend half a semester every year talking about the same thing in gym class. It can be challenging to see the value in something when it doesn't directly relate to you at that moment. I kept thinking, “I don’t have a partner, nor am I sexually active, so why do I need to learn this right now?” I’m sure at some point during I will have students in my classes feeling this same way, and it is my goal to help them see the big picture. It might not seem relevant at this exact moment, but knowledge is power! I want my students to leave my class feeling empowered to make healthy decisions about their lives and to know that they’re supported.