What is the first thing you think about when you think of elementary schoolrites of passage? For me it is and always will be Sex Education Essay. Only for me itwas not such a time of wonder; it was more like a time of trying to keep mystomach from turning inside out. I remember it like it was yesterday, eventhough it was more like seven years ago. It was late April, headed into thesummer of my fifth grade year. My teacher was Mr.
Atkinson, a funny little manwith a good background in American history and, conveniently, a fifth-gradesense of humor. Our class was located in a small portable, which was thetrademark of overcrowded public schools in the area. Without air conditioning inthe spring it was like a furnace in there, and that did nothing to help mysituation. District policy in regards to sex education led to this learningphenomenon each spring, when the male teachers would take aside the fifth gradeboys and the female teachers would do the same with the girls.Order now
I remember beingrounded up like cattle and herded into the portable, which was doubly crowded asit bore the brunt of the fifth grade male population in the school. There wasexcitement, fear, wonder, apprehension, and a hundred other emotions swirlingaround the group of kids, and all of them were obvious to anyone watching. As weentered the small building, a mass of fidgety kids pinching through a smalldoorway in the corner of the room, it was like no other time I had been inthere. The room seemed different somehow.
Not worse, anyway, but there was adefinite change between then and the last time I had been in there. Thinkingback on it now, it was most likely the energy of all that curiosity, becausewhen the speech began, a depth of knowledge previously unknown to us wassuddenly and wonderfully available. Previously, that which we did know was asmuch fiction as reality. We scrambled for chairs at an increased speed,resulting in the expected griping, shoving and whining that we always heard. After we had all found chairs, those who had not sitting on the floor, the roomquieted down and we all knew something was about to happen.
Mr. Atkinson greetedus with his usual easily relatable anecdote. The crowd seemed to settleslightly, as if some energy had been lost when we saw that this new, excitinglesson was going to begin just as all the two-plus-two, preamble to theConstitution speeches had before it. But this lesson was more interactive. Allthroughout the first few minutes of our meeting hands shot up fast and sometimesnaive, sometimes completely misinformed questions were launched at the threemale teachers at the front of the class. Sometimes the answers incited giggles,while other times they induced debate, even looks of pure astonishment.
After wehad covered the basics of the human anatomy, which happened slowly but sped upwhen we were given a glimpse of what was to come, we moved on to some of theeven hotter topics among the boys on the playground, relationships and sex. Itstarted out fine, but I was in for a surprise. As the details of the lessonbecame clearer, I found my stomach feeling somewhat unsettled. I pictured in mymind all the things that the teachers were saying, and it was really disgustingto me. The strange feeling in my stomach grew more intense, and before I knew itI was queasy.
It didnt end there, because soon my head began to swim, and myvision was fading in and out. I was scared not knowing what was happening to me,so in panic I stood up weakly and slid my feet one in front of the other until Iwas at the front of the room. I vaguely remember trying to tell Mr. Atkinsonthat I didnt feel good, but before I knew it I was falling to the ground.
Luckily the teacher caught me, and through eyewitness accounts that have beenrelated back to me more times than I like to think about Im told he carriedme to the nurses office, where I regained consciousness on a small bed with apaper-covered pillow, which crinkled as I moved my head. The nurse comforted meand told me that I would be fine, and that my mom was on her way .