[ed. See also: Dan Savage's 'The Most Fundamental Truth About Sex'.]
When I handed the note to my mate at the dinner table, our son said with something of a proud smile, “I told Mrs. Reverby we’ve already talked about it at home.”The mate and I looked at each other and obviously had the same thought. Two weeks before, the class had been learning about electricity. The teacher had gotten stuck on some questions about batteries, so she had turned to our son, who was able to explain to the class exactly how batteries charge, recharge, and discharge. He’s learned a lot about electricity at home.
And quite a lot about sex.
“You know,” my mate said to our son, “this is one of those times when you have to not help the teacher even if you know how something works.”
I busted out laughing at the admonition. “Your dad is right,” I said, composing myself. “It’s entirely possibly you know more about sex than they do, but there’s some stuff some parents might not want their kids to know, so you have to keep a lid on it.”
“I know,” he answered.
But really. This was the kid who in preschool answered a teacher’s “Good morning, how are you today?” with “I’m fine, but my mother is menstruating, so her uterine lining is sloughing.” I just shrugged and explained to her that he’d seen blood on the toilet paper and wanted to know if I was OK.
So I had explained that it was normal, and he wanted to hear about the mechanics, like he always did about everything.
She laughed. As he went off to play, she reminded me of the time that the class had somehow gotten onto the discussion of baby cows, and one child had posed the question of how the cow gets out of the mommy’s tummy. The teachers glanced nervously at each other until one of them sputtered, “Through the birth canal!”
My son’s hand shot up: “Is that the same as the vagina?” Apparently he also pointed out that the baby must be in a uterus, not a tummy, because if the baby was in the stomach it would get digested, and that wouldn’t be good.
This was also the only kid in preschool who said, “Most boys have penises and scrotums and most girls have clitorises and vaginas.” I presume it is because my son knows so much about sex that sometimes his friends have tried to ask me questions. I never know what to do in such a situation.
Ordinarily I answer all children’s questions in an honest manner and make sure I evince no shame about the question or the answer, whether it is about war, disability, disease, sex, arguments between neighbors, whatever. But in this cultural climate of negativity around sex, can I really answer another person’s child’s question about sex?
One day nine-year-old Elaine started asking me about birth control out of the blue. I said to her, “Listen, I need to call your parents and ask them if it’s OK for me to talk to you about this, OK?” She said that’d be fine. So I did. I didn’t expect her mother’s response.
“Oh, God, yes, please answer any questions she has! And tell her it’s OK to go to you any time with those questions!” I told her that’d be fine, but that I’d also ask Elaine if it was OK for me to just let her mother know what we had talked about.
My mate has always been a little more reserved with “adult” information. This is a general difference between us, one that’s pretty apparent to everyone; a friend once asked our son what it’s like to be raised by Auntie Mame and Kermit the Frog. But I have to be forthcoming with the goods, especially when it comes to sex. My work on children born with atypical sex has put me in the position of advising other parents that it is critical to be calm and honest in response to children’s questions about sex. I kind of have to practice what I preach.
by Alice Dreger, Pacific Standard | Read more:
Image: xNstAbLe/Shutterstock
