It’s only a few years since I left my Catholic, south Dublin fee-paying school and one memory, in particular, stands out: sex education class.
It amounted to a slideshow with an onslaught of genital warts, gaping sores and the emaciated face of an Aids patient staring listlessly at the camera. The tactic proved a little too effective. The presentation of these sin-begotten horrors was cut short when a student of a sensitive disposition “took a turn” .
So, when I read the draft findings of an official review of sex education in The Irish Times recently, I wasn't in the least bit surprised. It found that sex education for most secondary school pupils was outdated and involved lessons on "abstinence" and "risks and dangers".
It chimes with my experience: procreation was the focus, a biological necessity and nothing more. Sex as an act of pleasure was most certainly off the agenda. The message was clear: sex was for making babies and happened only under the cover of darkness.
Representation of LGBT+ individuals amounted to a vague portrayal of an oppressed and silent other who desired only equality and never partook in sex.
To go into the intricacies of that would prove as horrific as the aforementioned slideshow. The idea of LGBT+ students within the student body was treated as an abstract possibility, only addressed when a trailblazing individual found the courage to “come out” to the year.
The notion persisted that LGBT+ people were out in the world (probably) and perhaps one or two were in this Catholic school, but if they were then that was just coincidence.
It seemed that little thought was given to the fact that LGBT+ people are a social demographic and will exist within any school population. In the years since graduation the number of openly LGBT+ individuals within my old class group has risen to about 12 per cent and continues to grow.
The absence of an education that endeavours to normalise queer people and discuss their experiences as openly and inclusively as those of their heterosexual peers leads many to hide themselves from such licensed ignorance.
Consent
The most glaring omission was consent. Consent categorically was not covered in my education, I never even heard it discussed as an issue until I entered university. The reality that consent education is a burden carried almost solely by students’ unions is a damning indictment against this country’s educational curriculum.
Looking back, many of my peers and I realise how unequipped we were as teenagers to identify the advances of individuals at house parties or discos as problematic and unsolicited.
Due to a lack of consent-orientated sexual education we did not possess the vocabulary or awareness at the age of 16 to label the rugby player who’d fondled an unconscious girl as anything more than “creepy”. Although we knew this behaviour was wrong and unacceptable, we were unaware that it was criminal and punishable, thus a culture of silence persisted.
I recall parties where, out of concern people would say, “watch out for ‘X’, he’s gropey when he’s drunk,” or “Mind ‘Y’, she’ll end up going off with a randomer if she’s locked”.
The fact that as teenagers we viewed potential assault as an unfortunate normality means we were failed by our sexual education. The student unions of Irish universities have done tremendous work implementing consent classes for freshers and providing information on the issue. However, those who do not attend third-level cannot avail, and for those who do receive it, is it too little too late?
Ethos loophole
Modernising the curriculum shouldn’t be a challenge. The issues have been identified yet the final barrier is the slippery loophole of “ethos”. Ethos and its incompatibility with modern teaching is the excuse offered by countless schools as the reason for allowing Irish teenagers to dwell in naiveté.
Ethos is a moralistic pleading of the fifth. However, in an Ireland where contraception is available, same-sex marriage legalised and the Eighth A,emd,emt repealed, this word is a vestige of sanctioned prejudice.
Ethos is no longer a neutral word. It is a loaded term that enables religious schools to ignore their duties as educators; a fail-safe clause used to eschew responsibility for including and de-stigmatising LGBT+ individuals; a term that cultivates a paralysing fear of STIs to support abstinence-focused teaching, and which prioritises a culture of silence surrounding the issue of consent.
Sexual education is essential. Yet this knowledge is often drip fed, obscured or denied.
In the name of ethos, this vital wisdom is allowed to fall through the cracks. Following the recent review it is crucial to remember that when sexual education is not adequately provided, it is to all of our detriment.
I hope future generations can learn to enjoy their sex, their sexuality, and their right to say no.
Shane Kenneally is a third year English literature and history student at Trinity College Dublin
