Not Going Away: National Abstinence Clearinghouse Comes to Minnesota, Part Three

In part three of his series, Jeff Fecke examines what parents and kids want, who's responsible for abstinence and federal funding.

This is part three of a three-part series. Part One is here, Part Two is here.

"The message is good with or without federal dollars."

"Parents want this," says Keith Deltano, citing a Zogby poll that he says shows Americans support abstinence-based education. But as the conservative Heritage Foundation admits, that's not exactly accurate.

"The poll shows an apparent divergence between abstinence education and parental attitudes on only one issue: Some 75 percent of parents want teens to be taught about both abstinence and contraception. Except for describing the likely failure rates of various types of birth control, abstinence curricula do not teach about contraception," says the report prepared for Heritage, which is a strong supporter of abstinence-only education.

Of course, that's really the problem for the group of happy warriors assembled in St. Paul. Because in truth, Americans don't want this, if this means "abstinence-only education." Sure, we want our kids to be told not to have sex before marriage — but we also remember being kids, and the vast majority of us remember having sex before marriage. And we know that can have outcomes that range from pretty positive to extraordinarily, life-shatteringly negative. And we also know that the latter can be avoided most of the time if our kids are taught about things like condoms.

"For a long time it was hard for the public to grasp that abstinence-based education was not just talking about abstinence, but this very rigid program," said Guttmacher's Heather Boonstra. But that's changed now. And while Americans may want their kids taught about abstinence, we also want them to be taught about what to do if they decide to ignore that message.

After all, while we may not want our kids to have sex, we really don't want our daughters to have to be deciding whether or not to seek an abortion, or our sons to be having to figure out how to be a dad before they graduate from high school. And being pragmatic, we know that the best route is to persuade the kids to steer clear of sex completely — but failing that, we'd like some margin for error, thanks.

"I'm a virgin; I'm a proud virgin who's waiting until marriage. And they look at me with awe. They haven't heard that they're worth waiting for."

It's impossible not to like Taylor Moore, a bright, engaging 17-year-old who is closing up the testimony with her own experience as someone who has chosen abstinence. Moore is going to the University of Illinois in the fall on a full-ride scholarship, and good for her; she speaks of coming from an impoverished area of Chicago, and not wanting to be just the statistic that an African-American child of a single mother is supposed to be. Yes, it's inspiring, and a great story.

But Moore's last line highlights something we've already touched on: the issue of gender in the abstinence-only movement, especially its focus on girls.

"It's absolutely falling on women disproportionately. There's a sort of token attempt to make it sound evenhanded, but it's clear from reading their material that men should not be tasked with responsibility for remaining abstinent," says writer Amanda Marcotte. After listening to this group, it's hard to disagree. From Wright lamenting the fact that some women aren't choosy enough with their partners to Moore's discussion of girls being "worth waiting for," there's an undercurrent that the onus is on girls to turn boys down, not on boys to be abstinent themselves.

"We only focus on girls because they have the most at risk," says Unruh when asked about the apparent dichotomy. But it doesn't explain why the boys pledge to be "pure in my lifestyle" instead of sexually pure at their "integrity balls" – the equivalent of girls' purity balls.

* * *

The abstinence-only movement has hit a rough period in its brief history. With the Democrats back in control of Congress, it seems unlikely that federal funding will continue, at least not without some strings attached. Indeed, the abstinence-only movement's bete noir, Rep. Henry Waxman, D-Calif., is now able to have direct input into sexual education policy, something that has to trouble the leadership of the movement.

But that doesn't mean the National Abstinence Clearinghouse and the abstinence-only movement is going to fold up their tents or alter their message. Because really, they can't. As Boonstra says, "They have a lot at stake, because an industry has built up over this time period, and that makes them loath to make any adjustments."

Unruh seems resigned to a difficult struggle as she takes questions. Talking of the first NAC conference, held in 1997 in Minnesota, Unruh said, "I though it was real important to get people back to their roots." Telling a story of how back then, 80 percent of the attendees were against receiving federal funding, she says, "This message is not going away. The message is good — with or without federal dollars."

But she adds, almost halfheartedly, "It is our money. As taxpayers, we have the right to ask."

Unruh is right – it is the taxpayers' money. Unfortunately for Unruh, a majority of taxpayers voted for a Congress that doesn't particularly want to give taxpayer dollars to programs that haven't proved to be effective. And that makes the long-term survival of the abstinence-only movement — as currently organized — as questionable as the movement itself.

Part One: 'There Are a Lot of Fallacies That Need to Be Undressed'

Part Two: 'Every young person deserves to know they have the choice to be abstinent.'