What About
Abstinence?
I WAS HOLDING A NOTICE FROM my
13-year-old son's school announcing a meeting
to preview the new course in sexuality.
Parents could examine the curriculum and
take
part in an actual lesson presented
exactly as
it would be given to the students. When I
arrived at the school, I was surprised
to discover only about a dozen parents
there. As we waited for the presentation,
I
thumbed through page after page of
instructions in the prevention of
pregnancy
or disease. I found abstinence mentioned
only
in passing.
When the teacher arrived with the school
nurse, she asked if there were any
questions.
I asked why abstinence did not play a
noticeable part in the material. What
happened next was shocking. There was a
great
deal of laughter, and someone suggested
that
if I thought abstinence had any merit, I
should go back to burying my head in the
sand. The teacher and the nurse said nothing
as I drowned in a sea of embarrassment.
My
mind had gone blank, and I could think of
nothing to say.
The teacher explained to me that the job
of the school was to teach "facts", and
the
home was responsible for moral training.
I
sat in silence for the next 20 minutes as
the
course was explained. The other parents
seemed to give their unqualified support
to
the materials.
"Donuts, at the back", announced the
teacher during the break. "I'd like you
to
put on the name tags we have prepared --
they're right by the donuts -- and mingle
with the other parents." Everyone moved
to
the back of the room. As I watched them
affixing their name tags and shaking hands, I
sat deep in thought. I was ashamed that I
had
not been able to convince them to include
a
serious discussion of abstinence in the
materials. I uttered a silent prayer for
guidance. My thoughts were interrupted by
the
teacher's hand on my shoulder.
"Won't you join the others, Mr. Layton?"
The nurse smiled sweetly at me.
"The donuts are good."
"Thank you, no", I replied.
"Well, then, how about a name tag? I'm
sure the others would like to meet
you."
"Somehow I doubt that", I replied.
"Won't you please join them?" she coaxed.
Then I heard a still, small voice
whisper,
"Don't go". The instruction was
unmistakable. "Don't go!"
"I'll just wait here", I said.
When the class was called back to order,
the teacher looked around the long table
and
thanked everyone for putting on name
tags.
She ignored me. Then she said, "Now we're
going to give you the same lesson we'll
be
giving your children. Everyone please
peel
off your name tags. I watched in silence
as
the tags came off. "Now, then, on the back
of one of the tags, I drew a tiny flower.
Who
has it, please?" The gentleman across
from me
held it up.
"Here it is!"
"All right", she said. The flower
represents disease. Do you recall with
whom
you shook hands?
He pointed to a couple of people.
"Very good", she replied. "The
handshake
in this case represents
intimacy.
So the two people you had contact with
now have the disease." There was laughter
and
joking among the parents. The teacher
continued, "And whom did the two of You
shake
hands with?" The point was well taken,
and
she explained how this lesson would show
students how quickly disease is
spread.
"Since we all shook hands, we all have
the disease.
It was then that I heard the still,
small voice again. "Speak now", it said,
"but
be humble." I noted wryly the latter
admonition, then rose from my chair. I
apologized for any upset I might have
caused
earlier, congratulated the teacher on an
excellent lesson that would impress the
youth, and concluded by saying I had only
one
small point I wished to make.
"Not all of us were infected", I said. "One
of us... abstained."
by ROBERT LAYTON
