YAP Blog: Developing RSE in a pandemic-era America

WRITTEN BY A MEMBER OF SCHOOL OF SEXUALITY EDUCATION’S BRILLIANT YOUTH ADVISORY PANEL (YAP).

Claire, aged 16, Ohio, United States.

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On the first day of the sex education unit of health class, our teacher lined up the girls who were to be taken to a different presentation. Myself and the others went to a separate conference room to learn about breast cancer, while those who stayed in the classroom learned about prostate cancer. The class was required of all students in the high school, anywhere from 14 to 18 years old, though most take it as a freshman or sophomore.

At this age, teaching topics like consent, setting boundaries, and contraception is crucial. While contracting STIs as a young person and teen pregnancies are common in the U.S., so are boundary and consent issues. However, these skills are much less likely to be stressed within the classroom. 

These are skills that every person in any physical scenario with another person should have, for example, a platonic cuddle. However, we left the conference room that day with only knowledge of how to do breast self-exams, speculating between ourselves what those who had stayed in the classroom had learned about prostates.

This was hardly enough, but it was all our state required of health programs in public high schools. When it comes to sexuality education, neither medical accuracy nor contraception education is required; the importance of sex within marriage only must be included, and it is required that abstinence is “stressed.” By those metrics, our program had excelled. But, as a rural school near a university town, students from very diverse backgrounds – and having diverse needs – were afforded very little in terms of inclusive content.

As for the rest of the U.S., the truth is: standards vary. The culture of America is double-faceted; on one end, there’s a progressive, liberal outlook, boasting freedom of expression and ideas – a place where anyone can say and do anything. On the other end, there’s a value in tradition, in appreciation of the past. Sexuality education in the U.S. has long been on the latter end. Already, education about physical and mental health relating to sexuality and relationships was vastly different from classroom to classroom, but with COVID-19, the disparities in sex education have become more apparent. Many classrooms toss sexuality education to the side after transitioning to online learning. Already a hush-hush experience in person, why would the basketball coach willingly go over anything but the basics of penis-in-vagina intercourse while students listen in from their family living rooms? There isn’t an incentive to be comprehensive when it isn’t required.

Due to homeschooling during the pandemic, there has been a decline in demand from schools for in-person programs and sexuality education has needed to be taught to students while at home. Inclusive and comprehensive education on the mental, physical, and emotional aspects of sexuality and relationships empowers students to create safe, healthy relationships. This is essential for young people and in-person education can make the experience much safer. With students at home and learning online, it can be harder for teachers to adapt. Student responses will range from very engaged, to feeling out of the loop, to feeling triggered. In addition, teachers may not be able to elicit students’ questions if the students do not feel the environment (online and/or from home) is safe enough. The digital divide can make it harder to create safe spaces for conversation.

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What could safe, comprehensive education even look like online? Teachers could encourage anonymous answers to promote safety, include content warnings and the ability for students to have wellness check-ins throughout lessons. They could utilize tools like polls and games to prompt engagement. Is this easy? Not likely, but I believe there is hope. By taking advantage of the necessity for sexuality education online, health programs could start to provide better sexuality education online now. This would help sexuality education become more highly prioritised after transitions to in-person learning.

This may seem like a tall order, but it is absolutely possible. Even though state regulations demand very little of sexuality education programs, classrooms can go above and beyond with dedicated community and individual action. In my own school, a class titled “Sex Education” began to be offered last semester. This class is run by the same school nurse, but with a much wider lens on content. One student who took the course wrote,

“the class… covered subjects the students were interested in, it was really inclusive and… extremely sex positive… everyone in the class was very open and comfortable.”

Seeing my community experience this is infinitely uplifting. And – even though we have a way to go – the seed has been planted for a flourishing generation.

Illustrations by Evie Karkera, unless otherwise credited.

Our book ‘Sex Ed: An Inclusive Teenage Guide to Sex and Relationships’​is out​ ​now.

School of Sex Ed’s Instagram account censored and deactivated by algorithms

School of sexuality education’s Almaz Ohene explores how internet policies around sexuality are consistently implemented in favour of straight, white, cis male ideas of acceptability

Vulva:Censored

A couple of months ago, in July 2020, the School of Sexuality Education Instagram account was blocked and disabled. 

We received a message from Instagram stating that the account had been deactivated for not following ‘Community Guidelines’ because ‘sexually suggestive content isn’t allowed on Instagram’. This includes ‘posting sexually suggestive photos or other content; soliciting sexual services; using sexually explicit language.’ There was no specific information regarding which post(s) were problematic for Instagram, nor was there any warning of the deactivation. Considering the fun, educational tone of our account, the use of anatomically correct language, and the fact that most of our posts are illustrations this was baffling.

School of Sexuality Education reported this deactivation as an error but heard nothing from Instagram for a week. We went on to report it through Report Harmful Content who contacted their industry partners. After that our account was reactivated but with no further explanation. 

Both the team, and wider supporters of the work we do at School of Sexuality Education, were outraged. That Instagram had deemed the vital Sex Education work we do, to be in breach of the community guidelines, without specifiying what exactly it was that breached them, was beyond frustrating.

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A number of independent studies have shown that internet policies around sexuality are consistently implemented in favour of straight, white, cis male ideas of acceptability, and that the censorship of benign Sex Education content on social media platforms is disproportionately harming marginalised communities.

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How? Well, automated moderation, or algorithmic models, are used on a huge scale to automatically sort through content posted to social media platforms such as Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, TikTok etc. Facebook’s algorithmic model, for example, has now been programmed to spot commonly used emoji strings – such as the eggplant or peach emoji – which are commonly used to refer to fun sex acts or indicate certain sexual preferences.

Often, social media platforms will ‘shadowban’ – when a social media platform hides content from the algorithm with tactics such as making them invisible in the hashtags, banning liking/commenting, or continuously censoring their content – accounts using vocabulary or hashtags deemed unacceptable.

This means sex educators can’t even use code to talk about the pleasurable aspects of sex, or help LGBTQ+ people find information via hashtags, even when the content is non-explicit.

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Salty, an online newsletter and platform for women, trans and non-binary people, conducted some research in 2019, which reported that that plus-sized profiles were often flagged on Instagram for “excessive nudity” and “sexual solicitation”, and concluded that “risqué content featuring thin, cis white women seems to be less censored than content featuring plus-sized, black, queer women.”

It also found that people who come under attack for identifying as a member of the LGBTQ+ community, for example, have had their accounts reported or banned instead of the attacker. And later this year, it also reported that wheelchair user Alex Dacy (a.k.a. @wheelchair_rapunzel) had her picture, below, banned, even though it was inspired by an accepted Kim Kardashian West photo.

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It is truly saddening how common real-life structures of oppression are being replicated online through this inherently biased automated moderation and censorship. It sends a deeply upsetting message, that only homogeneity is acceptable. School of Sexuality Education’s work is focused on dismantling these norms and online communities have the opportunity to help us do this work, but instead we are forced to stick to the same tired tropes.

Facebook also does not allow the mention of sexual pleasure in adverts for contraceptives. Instead, the focus must be “on the contraceptive features of the product.” A dichotomy exists because a cis man’s ability to have an erection is considered a health concern, based on the biological fact that a man must orgasm in order to procreate. As a result, male sexual wellness brands are considered morally acceptable as ‘family planning products’. Women, however, don’t need to experience an orgasm in order to procreate, so any information that exists solely to grant women pleasure is considered a ‘vice’ by Facebook.

This academic year sees Sex and Relationship Education become compulsory for all schools in England for the first time, hooray! But without being able to voice questions about the topic on social media, – which, as we know, is where young people spend a large proprtion of their time – they will still be left with the misconception that anything sex-related is taboo. And that’s the opposite of our ethos here at School of Sexuality Education. Social media bods, this is getting really tired – sort it out!

Illustrations by Evie Karkera, unless otherwise credited.

Our book ‘Sex Ed: An Inclusive Teenage Guide to Sex and Relationships’​is out​ ​now.

Never Have I Ever: My Response (Part 2)

BY School of Sexuality Education’S GAYATHIRI KAMALAKANTHAN.

Never Have I Ever, Netflix

The popular Netflix show Never Have I Ever centres an Indian-American highschool girl exploring her sexuality and her intersectional identity. Part 1 of my response explored some teachable moments within the show on topics such as communication and sex positivity, the virginity myth, the construction of disability as a problem and casteism. 

I enjoyed season 1, however it is important to recognise that there are some problematic issues within the show. As a sex and relationships education facilitator, as well as a practising Hindu, I wanted to map out some parts of the script that I hope can be addressed in series 2. This response will explore themes including Islamophobia, internalised oppression within the south asian community, casteism and Tamil identity.

1. Portrayal and response to Islamophobia

Nalini: That’s Jaya Kuyavar. She came from Chennai, went to UCLA for her doctorate, parents found her a nice boy back home to marry. Then she ran off with an American man. A Muslim. Parents never spoke to her again.

Kamala: Did they come for the wedding?

Nalini: Are you out of your mind? You heard me say he was a Muslim. 

(episode 4)

Speaking from experience, this conversation accurately portrays the Islamaphobic views held by some people that I know in the Hindu, South Asian community. It was disappointing that Kamala did not challenge her aunt’s passive aggressive rejection of Jaya. I wanted her to go and sit with Jaya in bold defiance of Nalini’s casteism and Islamophobia. However, this conflict avoidance did fit with Kamala’s character and spoke to my own experience of wanting to ‘give up’ in what often feels like a losing battle against prejudiced family members. 

Personally, the journey of addressing Islamophobic (and racist / sexist / queerphobic) views held by my family can and has been a slow, angry and damaging process. But what would be the alternative? If we keep choosing silence in order to maintain peace, whilst people casually perpetuate the demonisation of certain communities, nothing will ever change.

I can see why Kamala did not intervene as a bystander in this instance, but as these characters grow in confidence and discover their motivations, the show needs to assert them as people who are willing to stand up for equality. I don’t think it is too much to ask for there to be representation of an Indian person who challenges the exclusion of minority groups - especially given the Indian government’s current right-wing, anti-Muslim stance. 

2. Internalised oppression 

Kamala: So you’re ultimately very happy with your decision, even though you got divorced?

Jaya: Of course not. No. I mean look at me. My closest Indian friend is a woman I met seven minutes ago. No, I wish I had just listened to my family and married the guy that they chose. Then maybe I wouldn’t be divorced. 

At the end of the conversation… 

Jaya: Good luck on your engagement and don’t screw it up, yh?

(episode 4)

I can absolutely understand why this conversation was written. It’s honest and reflective of what continues to happen within the South Asian diaspora. Indeed, ‘what will people think?’ is a question I am constantly battling against. Nevertheless, I found the conclusion of this scene deeply disturbing. It implies that the breakdown of Jaya’s marriage was a consequence of her marrying a Muslim, and not the simple fact that 42% of marriages end in divorce. It deepens and excuses Islamophobia within the community, especially regarding the taboo of interfaith relationships. 

The writers had the perfect opportunity to challenge the current rise in Islamophobia in Indian politics, and to create a healing, empathetic and difference-embracing moment, but failed to do so. They had the chance to portray the power of female-to-female acceptance and empowerment but instead they shamed a woman (Jaya) for making an independent decision about her life, before making her do the same thing to another. This internalised, intergenerational and peer-on-peer oppression needs to stop and we need fair representations to learn from. 

In this report, Equality Labs outlines how caste-based discrimination affects the South Asian American diaspora. As a Tamil British person, I am acutely aware of how the caste system, anti-Blackness and Islamophobia is still at play within my South Asian circles. I have been told multiple times by random members of the community that if I married ‘outside of our caste’ or to a ‘muslim or black man’ (note: zero awareness of queerness), that they would not associate with me thereafter. My response? We need to unlearn hate together. Either that, or I will not associate myself with you. Challenging this kind of bigotry within our communities is a must. 

Equality Labs graph shows % of people rejected by a partner on the basis of caste.

Equality Labs graph shows % of people rejected by a partner on the basis of caste.

Of course, writers have the right to create whatever they want, but it is my hope that people with privilege use their platforms to challenge oppressive narratives and showcase positive interfaith relationships

3. ‘Tamil’ is a language and an ethinic identity

I was delighted to hear Tamil spoken on a Netflix TV show. Finally something to point to when asked ‘what is Tamil?’ 

Maitreyi Ramakrishnan, (Devi in Never Have I Ever), is a young Tamil-Canadian actress and speaks unapologetically about her Tamil-Canadian identity. In one interview she says “my identity isn’t being Sri Lankan. That’s not my country. My country is Canada. But my culture is definitely Tamil”.

In the article, Radheyan Simonpillai explains that ‘like so many Tamil-Canadians, [Maitreyi] comes from a family that escaped war in Sri Lanka and arrived in Canada as refugees. We typically refuse to identify as Sri Lankan because that would mean claiming a country that tried to wipe out our people.’ This is exactly how I feel about my not-home country and why I cringe and change the subject when people make unsolicited comments about how I ‘must visit [my] homeland’.

I love that Ramakrishnan seems to be a no nonsense individual who speaks about her cultural identity with confidence. After the show was released, Ramakrishnan tweeted, ‘Devi does not represent the ENTIRETY of the South Asian community. She is merely one story influenced by real life experience. There are still many stories waiting to be told. This is one of many steps forward in a much longer race. 

I’m definitely here for this and am looking forward to what season 2 could be.

TV is a powerful tool that can shape how we think about sex, identity and relationships. Based on the themes in the show so far,  here’s a round up of what I’d love to see addressed in season 2 : 

  • Specific communication and learning about pleasure.

    • How do people learn to kiss their partners in a way which is pleasing to all involved?

    • The experience of learning someone’s body can be funny, silly, clumsy and lovely! How can this be shown authentically?

  • Discussion about healthy porn usage, without stigma.

    • The average age that a young person accesses porn for the first time is 11. 

    • How could the show encourage some critical thinking around the realities of sex vs sex we see in porn?

  • ‘Menstruation impurity’ taboos within the Hindu community. 

    • Many people within the Hindu community view menstruation as ‘dirty’ and ‘embarrassing’. 

    • This, along with a lack of teaching on menstrual literacy has resulted in menstruating people being banned from temples as well as high absenteeism and drop out rates from school. 

    • How can the show address this long standing taboo? 

  • Caste-based discrimination, why it continues and how it can be challenged at an individual/community/national level. 

    • Can Devi and/or Kamala challenge their family on their caste-based choices?

    • Is this something that can be brought up at one of Devi’s Model UN days? 

  • Islamophobia, why it continues and how it can be challenged at an individual/community/national level. 

    • Could the show model a positive Muslim-Hindu relationship/friendship? 

    • Could Devi challenge and unpack her community’s prejudice in a conversation with her mum? 

    • Could this be discussed in a school lesson? 

Check out our Teachable Moments for students.

Our book ‘Sex Ed: An Inclusive Teenage Guide to Sex and Relationships’​is out​ ​now.

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