Drink the Spit

If you ever had your intelligence insulted growing up as a girl, were purposely lied to by someone with authority, or were compared to something so worthless that it lowered your self-esteem so badly that you had to go to therapy, you have to check out what they’re telling young girls (and boys) about sex these days.

This video may feature some funny cartoon characters, but the content used for it is actual content taken from classroom materials that are used today. You have to see it to believe it:

According to these lessons, a girl or boy who has sex is a petal-less, ugly flower that’s lost its beauty; a partially-chewed piece of candy or used toothbrush. A virgin who has sex is also apparently akin to a person drinking a cup full of many other peoples’ spit.

Recap: Losing your virginity makes you worthless.

Recall that a girl in the class, not a boy, is chosen to hold the sign. I’ve never been in one of these classes*, so I don’t actually know if a boy is treated the same way, but I somehow doubt it. Even so, these lessons are humiliating and derogatory to any who listen to them.

(*I was shamed in my own fifth grade class, too; the counselor asked if anyone knew about sex education at all, and I’d had my period for several years and my mom had told me about it so I raised my hand. Apparently it was a rhetorical question because she raised her eyebrows, crossed her arms and said, “Oh, so you want to teach the class then?” Yeah, way to go, Counselor. Way to help lead to a young girl’s embarrassment and reluctance to answer questions in class.)

I wonder if the children in these classes who’ve been sexually abused feel better or worse after attending them? I wonder if sexually active kids leave them feeling so bad about themselves that they do something destructive? What about their siblings or parents who are sexually active; do they look down on them or start to think they are worthless as well?

Not to mention the whole idea that the only thing that makes a girl worth anything is her virginity.

I was monogamous throughout high school and so was my partner; I know for a damn fact that we weren’t each others’ pieces of used candy or cups of spit. In fact, today, we are married. But if I’d been told this information during that time, I wonder how it would have made me feel? I wonder if I’d been even more depressed than I already was? If I would have tried to harm myself?

All of this, of course, is just gravy on top of the mashed potatoes when it comes to the accuracy of the information.