Growing up across several states was an eye-opening experience, and since these moves were mostly during my formative years, it exposed me to an array of educational methods.
While each method differed, there was a common denominator among the subjects that was always overlooked — sex education — but more specifically, the women’s anatomy section.
When I first received a formal introduction to my anatomy, it was from my mother.
She had purchased the token American Girl “All About Me” book, which explains the stages a woman’s body goes through puberty and almost everything that follows.
While I learned most of the basics, I never learned everything about specific information that is crucial for a girl to know. But, I sure had to learn every detail about the male genitalia in class.
Not only is this a form of disregarding women’s needs in the classroom, it’s a sign that our educational system is broken.
I received my first sex-ed course in the sixth grade, where boys and girls were normally separated, but this specific semester, the West Virginia weather had affected the class schedule after a month of snow days.
Thrown together in a small classroom, we received the “this is going to be uncomfortable, but we have to talk about it” speech and watched a semi-explicit video talking mainly about how boys turn to men; however, teachers paused the video when it got to the part about girls.
We had run out of time because of several boys in the class having questions about masturbation and erections, so the class never finished the video because there “wasn’t much left.”
We were discussing how men masturbate, but speaking about how women’s reproductive organs work was dismissible and uncomfortable.
So, I went on my merry way through sixth grade, knowing more about a penis than I did my own body.
By eighth grade, we lived in Georgia, which is strictly an abstinence-based sex education state.
They teach based on the idea that “everyone will abstain” because it’s inappropriate to talk about sexual themes in a classroom.
They taught us about sexually transmitted infections, teenage pregnancy and other things that made most kids fear the idea of sex.
We were then told that if we didn’t know how pregnancy worked to “look it up.”
The following year, I had a health class in high school that was taught by a creepy teacher who told us to not wear low-cut shirts, and once again, there was no mention of anything about women’s health.
After moving to Arkansas, I received no formal education on the matter, so at some point, I figured it out myself.
The education system is broken in many ways, but by prioritizing only half of the material that needs to be learned, we put girls into a situation where they lack critical knowledge of their own bodies.
Instead of learning how to protect myself, I had to endure the fact that my body would never be important enough to talk about.
It was “uncomfortable” to be educated about my body, but it was normal to learn about how a man’s body matured.
It is critical that we teach all people, regardless of gender, the basics of their anatomy because it is crucial knowledge you need to know for the rest of your adult life.
Educating young women on how to stay safe and how to take care of themselves is a significant part of education.
It is in the curriculum for a reason, so why are we not teaching it?
While only a handful of schools actually educate on it, it should not be a hush-hush subject for any gender.
It affected me, making me feel like my body was unworthy of learning about — insignificant.
It is always important to educate, so open the floor to conversations that may be deemed “uncomfortable,” because there is someone in the same shoes as you.



