I no longer remember the first time I viewed porn, but I do remember having a birthday party at my great-grandparents house as an adolescent and hanging out in the basement with a few friends where we came across an old box of playboys. We sat together going through them in amazement, especially since we were still in our awkward and gawky phases. They were fascinating.

The youth pastor’s wife invited all the girls to an unnamed event. We were told to show up in a formal dress and to bring our moms. So, I did. I thought it was maybe going to be some sort of cute dance thing for the other girls since many of them were homeschooled… however, it became quickly apparent that a dance was not what was happening. They led us away from our moms and made us watch a movie about purity, and then told us that we needed to make a commitment of purity with Jesus.

Even while I worked from the comfort of home I found myself falling into despair. I rarely slept from many late nights scouring the news for understanding. I let my health go. I stopped running after the marathon I had trained for months to race was canceled. I worried about the safety of my family and friends, but also lost track of them. My island was dark and I didn’t want company.

What does it mean to be present to the unknowing, the uncomfortable, and the painful experiences of teaching that we may want to quickly push aside? How can we, through connecting with this side of our teaching, increase not only our students' capacity to care about their learning, but their emotive connections to their peers, communities and those that guide their learning? If there is one thing that the pandemic gave me and my students, it was the understanding that all of us, myself included, are flawed and human, and that this mutual care work of knowing and valuing each other is integral to our survival. 

Currently, the number of states that require sex education to be medically accurate is 17. You read that number right. Only 17 of the 39 states, plus DC, that mandate some form of sexual education and/or HIV education require it to be medically accurate. Furthermore, even though sex education is mandated in 39 states, abstinence-only is still considered sex education despite it being proven not to work.