Comprehensive sexual education provided by universities can help students navigate their developing identities, relationships and choices

I know how to find the hypotenuse of a triangle. I can name each of the planets in our solar system. I can even list several literary devices. But if you ask me what I learned about sexual health over the span of the five years it’s taught in the public school curriculum, I could tell you nothing. Absolutely nothing. Unfortunately, the awkward giggles, bewildered expressions and uncomfortable atmosphere are all that’s cemented in my brain years later.  

As young adults transitioning from high school to university, life on campus introduces opportunities to explore new relationships, new experiences and new choices.  

However, as students begin to pursue sexual experiences, they’re forced to rely on sub-par sex-ed from high-school, conversations with friends or searches on the web – which aren’t always reliable. 

Given the diversity of students at university, it’s important to recognize the various experiences and levels of exposure individuals have received to sexual education.  

With the need for more comprehensive sex-ed, universities can help bridge the knowledge gap left by schools. They can create safe and accessible spaces that encourage learning about sexual health and well-being in unbiased and non-judgemental ways.  

Depending on where students come from, sex and sexual health may be severely stigmatized. As a result, the formal sexual education curriculum may be minimal to non-existent, leaving many international students with a poor understanding of sexuality, reproductive health and rights.   

Even for domestic students who receive curriculum-based sex-ed in Canada, the content is not culturally inclusive and fails to take a holistic approach.  

All students, and especially Black, Indigenous and People of Colour students, would benefit from an anti-racist approach to sexual education that decolonizes, Indigenizes and dismantles systems of oppression. Such an approach to sex-ed offered in post-secondary settings would open opportunities for important dialogues that include the Black, Indigenous and other racialized experiences. 

These communities have also been disproportionately affected by poor health outcomes, such as higher rates of sexual violence and sexually transmitted infections, due to various determinants including low socioeconomic status, inequitable access to healthcare and a lack of trust in the healthcare systems that have a history of racism, discrimination and structural violence. An anti-racist sex-ed framework could offer better support for these communities.

It is also critical to support the disconnect young adults with diverse identities experience when navigating their sexuality and health. For instance, the colonization and historical trauma experienced by the Indigenous community still deeply affect their ability to relate to the content taught in school curriculums. Likewise, 2SLGBTQ2IA+ students need access to better support and a sex-ed curriculum that remains inclusive of their experiences and provides evidence-based information to promote positive sexual health outcomes.  

It is also critical that students with disabilities receive proper access to comprehensive sex-ed. Too often, individuals with disabilities are stripped of their dignity and autonomy and that needs to change. Applying health equity and justice frameworks to centre the experiences and voices of oppressed groups is key to ensuring all individuals are able to express their sexuality on their own terms. 

Sex-ed matters. It gives students power over their identity, sexuality, health, relationships and more importantly, their future. 

Everyone has the right to comprehensive sexual education and I believe that a comprehensive sexual education curriculum is an intersectional and equitable one. Comprehensive sexual education incorporates the narratives of BIPOC communities, rather than outdated and oppressive frameworks from the past. It also provides students with the opportunity to learn about topics beyond reproductive health such as healthy relationships, sexual violence prevention, body image, gender identity and sexual orientation. 

With the need for more comprehensive sex-ed, universities can help bridge the knowledge gap left by schools. They can create safe and accessible spaces that encourage learning about sexual health and well-being in unbiased, nonjudgmental ways.  

Depending on where students come from, sex and sexual health may be severely stigmatized. As a result, the formal sexual education curriculum may be minimal to non-existent, leaving many international students with a poor understanding of sexuality, reproductive health and rights.   
 

And while the McMaster Students Union services like the Student Health Education Centre, Women & Gender Equity Network and the Pride Community Centre are already working towards disseminating this knowledge and providing resources for students, McMaster has a unique opportunity to do more.  

By implementing comprehensive sex-ed during Welcome Week and orientation for incoming students and offering regular support through the Student Wellness Centre, McMaster can promote positive sexual health outcomes and leave their students feeling sexually-empowered with a greater recognition for their dignity and bodily autonomy.  

Sex-ed is an ongoing process and shouldn’t stop in high school. As we continue to grow and discover ourselves, the relevancy of sex-ed increases and so does the need for universities to equip their students with accessible support and evidence-based resources. 

C/O Natracare

How teens today are immensely misinformed on the discussion of periods

I hated sex-ed. For one, I was a young, immature and oblivious middle-schooler who wanted nothing to do with discussions about genitals. However, I also didn’t understand much, especially when it came to menstruation. 

I remember sitting in my fifth grade class as my teacher fake-demonstrated how to use a pad and tampon. My jaw was on the floor. I could not wrap my head around the notion of blood exiting my body every month whilst being in immense amounts of pain. Luckily, I got my first period the following year. 

Learning about periods for the first time was immensely confusing and overwhelming for me. That’s the case for many others as well. To this day, my friends and I laugh about how confusing and scary periods used to be. 

Learning about periods for the first time was immensely confusing and overwhelming for me. That’s the case for many others as well. To this day, my friends and I laugh about how confusing and scary periods used to be.

These experiences are why I feel that our sex-ed curriculm needs a lot of work. Unfortunately, 44 per cent of women do not know what is happening to them when they have their first period. 

Many young women feel confused and lost on the topic of periods, but it’s even worse when there is a lack of discussion around other health issues that women can face. Women can deal with different uterine health issues such as endometriosis and deadly sicknesses such as toxic shock syndrome that can be caused by menstrual products

I remember all the times I felt lost, confused and embarrassed about my period, especially when I was one of the earliest out of all my friends. 

It was so taboo and awkward. When I needed to grab a tampon or pad out of my locker, I felt so embarrassed. Sometimes, even teachers would be of no help, considering the amount of times I would hide a tampon in my pocket, urgently needing to go to the washroom and my teacher would say no. 

I longed to feel comfortable in simply telling them the truth.  

Even growing up, I realised I had to discover these things myself. I would constantly ask my sister, my mom and my friends questions on things about the female body that I was confused about. And there were times where I was that helping hand for my friends, especially as an early bloomer. 

Although teens today are lucky to have accesss to any information through their devices, it is still so important to have someone to guide them. We need to first create a better sex-ed curriculm where teens feel comfortable and where we do not split the class based on sex.  

We need to teach girls about periods. About what and what not to do. About odors, about pleasure, sex, how to say no, about illnesses and about hygiene. 

We need to teach girls about periods. About what and what not to do. About odors, about pleasure, sex, how to say no, about illnesses and about hygiene.

It is important that teens realise that it is one’s own journey and process, but that they can still speak to

anyone about it. 

C/O Yoohyun Park

The key role of community-based education in sexual health 

By: Ahlam Yassien, Contributor 

Education and promotion of sexual health are just as important as the education and promotion of nutritional and physical health. However, conversations about sex education often occupy little space in homes or classrooms as this topic is still seen as taboo.  

Despite this, many believe it is the responsibility of schools to teach kids about sexual health. In 1979, an overwhelming percentage of sex educators argued parents were not providing their children with the right sex education, with just under half believing this education was properly supplemented in schools. While the data obtained in this survey is reflective of the opinions on an outdated curriculum, it is also indicative of a larger pattern — the constant battle between parents and schools about the responsibility for sex education.  

Flash forward nearly 40 years and parents have protested and threatened to pull their children from classes due to the introduction of a newer, more focused curriculum. While studies indicate that family-centred education programs reduce poor health outcomes and shame, conversations on sexual health are still too often ignored, usually treated as something you should already know and never ask about. Additionally, when considering the implications of different cultural and religious values, these conversations can be uncomfortable and daunting for both parents and children.  

Like many other second-generation immigrants, I did not have these conversations at home. However, in 2015, when Ontario announced it would be updating its sexual education curriculum for the first time since 1998 to include conversations about explicit content online and gender identity, my mom was among many who insisted these conversations could be taught at home.  

Despite this, I still went to class and learnt about consent and internet safety. I engaged in discourse with my classmates and teachers and then came home, assuring my mom that we were not watching explicit content in class.  

While I learned about sexual health at school, this education was supplemented by that enforced by cultural perspectives taught at home, both of which have grown to hold an important place in the ways I choose to go about my personal health.  

They have also served to reinforce the importance of having these conversations at home, at school and between classmates. I had not realized it then, but I had been actively engaging in discourse with various people from different communities and these discussions helped frame the ways I approach conversations with people holding opposing beliefs.  

I had been deeply embarrassed by my mother’s disproval and immediately sided with those who called parents too conservative. However, I, along with those who took on this view, had been actively ignoring the role social and cultural determinants played in the introduction of sexual education in many households. The importance of diversifying education and considering these perspectives has become immensely clear to me. By considering these perspectives, we can reframe the conversation and the ways we view the various actors in these conversations, particularly those we might consider “too conservative.” In many cases, the term “too conservative” itself ironically appears too conservative and narrow to encompass the perspectives and thoughts of the individuals in question.   

I had once believed sex education was a responsibility of the curriculum while my mother believed it was a parental responsibility. Now, I am not sure it is either.  

In thinking about the continuous disagreements between educators and parents, I noticed the importance and responsibility of healthy eating and exercise are not something commonly debated between parents and teachers. I knew the dangers of smoking and doing drugs before I learnt about the importance of consent. I learned about the value of consistent oral hygiene before I had learned about vaginal hygiene.  

But if I were asked to pinpoint where I had learned all these things I would not be able to give a definitive answer, mainly because these principles had been swiftly introduced and reinforced by various actors in my life. From family members to teachers, I had been taught about these things by the communities around me. As a result, I can make decisions regarding my health with these lessons in mind. Similarly, I think the goal for sex education should be to implement a curriculum not only taught at school or at home but also consistently enforced and endorsed by the community at large.  

Thinking about sex education for many Ontario students brings back memories of latex condoms on bananas or ancient overheads showing anatomical diagrams in uncomfortable middle school classrooms. Sex education for many university students was characterized by giggles, awkward silence, confused teachers, and misinformation. Ontario’s repealed and then mostly reinstated 2015 curriculum gives the students of today a better chance of understanding their bodies than those of us subjected to the 1998 curriculum. Still, the biggest difference between our adolescence and the current generation’s is technology. While we only had MSN chat rooms and Yahoo answers, those growing up in the media saturated world of today have more access to information about their bodies and sexualities than ever. Reliable, inclusive and accessible information isn’t so hard to find thanks folks like Eva Bloom. 

Bloom, a McMaster alumnus, has an ever growing online presence under the moniker @WhatsMyBodyDoing, where she uses her schooling as a sex researcher to create engaging and informed content about sex and sexuality. Whether it be tips for exploring feminist sex toy stores or navigating disclosures with partners, Bloom is breaking down complex topics into byte-sized posts and colourful memes. 

How did Bloom get started in the sex education field? Combine an interdisciplinary undergraduate program, sex nerd status, and volunteering at the campus health centre: that’s the recipe for a burgeoning sex educator. Still, Bloom admits: “part of the reason I was inspired to do sex education was because I had a lot of really bad sex.” 

Encouraged to follow her interests, Bloom started to make YouTube videos about sex ed topics that she wanted her peers to know about. Online sex ed made sense: she could tell each friend about an important health topic individually, or she could make a video about it and hopefully reach thousands. Especially with sex and sexuality, technology helps bypass the barriers or discomfort that may prevent some from engaging with important health information. 

https://www.instagram.com/p/B7ekvIXpcR5/

“Technology can be a tool to reach more people with sex ed and start conversations online when they’re scary to have in person or not possible to have in person.”

Beyond sex education, technology can also help broach uncomfortable conversations between partners. Bloom’s Masters research into sexting explores how intimate conversations through technology might improve sexual experiences, especially for women and non-binary folks. 

“I think that my kind of perspective on sexting and technology is that it can be this huge tool to kind of open the door for talking about sexuality because it can still be really scary to even talk to partners about what you like and what you don’t like.” 

Talking to partners about sexual health can be a daunting task, especially in casual relationships. Bloom recognized the importance of rethinking communication in hook-up culture and created a workshop to that seeks to centre compassion. 

“How to F*ck like a Hufflepuff” is a casual sex workshop that borrows its name from the nicest Hogwarts House within the Harry Potter world but with less quidditch and more condoms. Bloom describes the workshop as a place to educate people about respect in all kinds of relationship structures. 

“You can be treated with kindness, you can be treated with care in whatever kind of relationship structure at your end, including casual sex.”

The workshop has evolved over time alongside Bloom’s identity. Now, “How to F*ck like a Hufflepuff” incorporates more ideas from the LGBTQ2SIA+ community and tenets of non-monogamy. Queer relationships flip the scripts on what hookups are supposed to look like, inviting more compassion and communication. 

“Can men and women really be friends? . . .  Like there’s the very strict binary of you’re friends or you’re fucking. But with queer sexuality in relationships . . . you can have crushes on your friends and you can fuck your friends and there’s more of a fluidity.”

So how can you create compassionate casual relationships? Bloom says to make it clear what you want out of each encounter or new person. Explain clearly that you’re looking for casual sex with people who are going to be kind. 

“I’m a big fan of the filtering coffee date,” says Bloom. “Get coffee with them, see kind of what their vibe is . . . you don’t need to tell each other your life story, but I feel like that’s a really good way to filter people out and also kind of like set the tone that you’re looking for something maybe more consistent.”

Still, conversations about sex can be scary, especially in a culture where they aren’t commonplace. Bloom suggests texting instead. In the heat of the moment it can be easy to forget to mention STI status or preferred contraceptives, whereas texting is takes away some of the pressure of serious conversations and keeps sex interruption-free. 

via GIPHY

Bloom suggests a few important questions you might want to cover with a potential sexual partner: 

“How often do you want to be in communication? . . . How often do you text them or talk to them? How often do you want to see them? How much you want to talk about stuff that isn’t sex?” 

Establishing boundaries is also important. Conversational boundaries are often unexplored, but can prevent some uncomfortable situations. Discussing what conversations are on or off the table with a friends-with-benefits, or as Bloom calls them, acquaintance-with-benefits, helps keep expectations and limits clear. 

“Mental health stuff, I feel like that’s a good boundary to have. Are you gonna tell them when you’re having a bad day and do you just want them to send you pictures of puppies? Or are they actually someone that you want to talk stuff through with? Or maybe it’s better to rely on your friends for that.” 

Bloom reminds these are all conversations that can happen before a hookup via text or even sooner if you put your boundaries and what you’re looking for in your bio. Being clear about your desires while swiping can help weed out partners who aren’t going to bring compassion to the bedroom. 

Whether it’s your next Tinder date or friends-with-benefits-fling, keep in mind communication and compassion.  

As adults, reclaiming the sex education we weren’t taught in school can improve our sex lives and make us better, more compassionate partners. Alternative educational spaces, like online content or Potter-verse-inspired workshops, offer information we might have missed out on or needs updating for a tech-savvy dating world. 

Looking forward, Bloom is planning an online version of her “How to F*ck like a Hufflepuff” workshop in the coming year. For her fellow sex-nerds, check out Bloom’s newsletter where she shares sex research papers and other sex-research-related things she is excited about. 

You can check out Bloom’s Instagram, YouTube videos, or watch her co-host Sex-Ed School for more. 

 

This article is part of our Sex and the Steel City, our annual sex-positive issue. Click here to read more content from the special issue.

 

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