Teaching Sex Ed

This post is written by Emily Marx.

Emily serves as a Health Educator at Erie Family Health Center - Lakeview.

As a Chicago Health Corps AmeriCorps member serving at Erie Lakeview Health Center, I teach sexual health classes to middle and high school students using a one-week curriculum. During this week we discuss anatomy, contraception, sexually transmitted infections, gender identity, and healthy relationships. A centerpiece of the week is the question box. At the end of each lesson we pass around a repurposed tissue box and students submit their anonymous questions which we answer at the end of the week. Often the box is stuffed to the top by the time we receive it from the students.

We get all kinds of questions. Many ask about the nuts and bolts of sexual health: how does the nuva-ring work? can you still get pregnant if you have herpes? why do I have cramps during my period? But we also get questions that are less objective and require great sensitivity to answer: what do I do if my parents don't accept me being gay? when is it ok to have your first kiss? how can you prepare yourself for being sexual with someone if you feel nervous? It is gratifying to know that I am a person students can come to with these questions, and I hope that they walk out of their classroom feeling that they received satisfactory answers.

But doubts linger. I worry that I am too vague or that my nerves show. I worry that my explanations will be unclear or that I will make students uncomfortable. After all, think of the ramifications if a student walks away from a sex education class with less than accurate and inclusive information.

I also worry about that question box being so full. I hope that after our week of classes these students have someone else to answer their questions and that any potential embarrassment about sexual health does not stand in the way of them receiving the healthcare they need. This education cannot simply be provided in one crash-course of a week. It needs to be a part of a continuous and open conversation with parents and/or teachers. Students deserve to know how to take care of themselves, just like they need to know how to multiply and read. They need a place to turn to with their questions during the other fifty-one weeks of the year.

Despite any nerves that I foster, I know that I provide an invaluable service and an open ear. I am proud to be a confidant and I hope that my students feel equipped to broach difficult conversations with trusted adults and to seek the care they deserve.