One Utah program makes students choose to promise to uphold several flawed statements on abstinence. I would love to believe that the students would be brave enough to challenge what’s written on the page, but just in case, I decided to explain why some of the most outrageous statements just don’t make sense.
The bipartisan $200 billion Medicare “doc fix” and health program funding bill includes a two-year extension of the Title V Sec. 510 program, which funds the implementation of ineffective and stigmatizing abstinence-only-until-marriage programs.
Many self-identified evangelicals have ceremonially promised to stay virgins until marriage. But there are often few narratives available from adults who are now struggling with the purity vows they made as teenagers.
Once hailed as a lifesaver and necessity for everyone thinking about having sex, condoms are now frequently maligned—young people are surrounded by messages suggesting they don’t work, they break, and they take all the fun out of sex.
This week, the nation’s sixth largest school district adopts a comprehensive sex ed program, college students design condom dispensers for Chicago high schools, an attempt to ban a puberty book fails, and a study finds one in five people would have sex with a robot (or at least not scoff at someone who did).
A presentation that took place this past weekend in Las Vegas may represent the all-time worst use of fear to promote chastity. It told its audience in no uncertain terms that premarital sex will lead to prostitution, sex trafficking, drug abuse, and death.
HB 305 would prohibit abortion providers and their affiliates from providing sex education materials, or speaking about sexual health, to public school students in the state.
In a recent editorial, Paglia argues for moving toward a sex ed model in which young people learn reproductive biology in one class, study sexually transmitted diseases in another, and get a healthy dose of fear, shame, and gender stereotypes in yet another. But sexuality educators disagree.
Having spent much of my career reviewing abstinence-only-until-marriage curricula and material, I can promise that just adding a lesson about contraception cannot turn a fear- and shame-based program into anything better.
The anti-choice movement is up in arms over my play, MOM BABY GOD, and I have a simple message for them: Bring it on. We’re not backing down.