In June 2018, Ontario premier, Doug Ford, made the drastic decision to revert the sex-ed curriculum back to its old 1998 curriculum. As a result, changes made to the curriculum in 2015, including material on consent, sexting and gender identity, and sexual orientation, will be repealed.
Ford's announcement made headlines worldwide, with critics calling the move "harmful" for Ontario students' educations (if reverting back to a 20-year-old sex ed curriculum in 2018 wasn't already harmful).
Of course, as someone who has had an 'outdated' sex ed curriculum, in a sense, I was appalled at the decision amid progressive changes in education.
For most of my life, I attended Catholic school. When asked by friends (who mainly attended public schools) what the difference was between public schools and religious education, I would say "religion classes." Much of these classes consisted not only of mandatory biblical readings, morning prayers and "reflection papers," but also coincided with the sex ed classes.
During my sophomore year, I recall being shamed by a speaker invited to the school's Pro-Life week for simply using birth control. During this time, I had experienced painful period cramps and heavy cycles as a result of hormonal imbalances, and using birth control was an easier option that alleviated the pain that came with each cycle.
Something considered so normal made me feel ashamed, especially of my sexuality. I was told that being on birth control had very grave consequences, including fertility and — get ready to gasp — the social stigma of telling partners you're on the pill. It was as though being on the pill was associated with promiscuity rather than safety and women's health.
"Honey, please talk to me afterward," the lady said, gesturing toward me with an intimidating glare.
(No, I did not have a stern talk with her afterward, but went to class as if nothing had happened.)
This wasn't the first instance of being shamed for my personal health choices. I had an English teacher lecture the class on the dangers of contraceptives and how harmful they were to one's supposed "spiritual life." I also felt a sense of discomfort with my fellow peers, being perceived as a "slut" for using the pill and given that overall negative connotation.
Condoms, dental dams, IUDs and pills were taboo topics, seen as unnatural and going against the Bible.
Abstinence was encouraged — no use of birth control or contraceptives, but rather the belief in one's self to not have sex until marriage (a heterosexual marriage, that is).
The major debate pops up, whether to choose faith over personal health, especially in a progressive society. What will we do about preventing teen pregnancy, STI's and STD's? Abstinence-only education is not the answer.
My Catholic school sex ed classes reinforced a toxic, slut-shaming environment. Students were being taught outdated, unethical methods that were harmful to their education. Misconceptions often arose from misleading information. I was taught to reject same-sex relations and gender identity under the misconception that I'd end up in the supposed pits of Dante's Inferno.
Little did I realize that my personal health mattered, and so did the progressive world around me. It is wrong to impose religious beliefs on one's personal matters or shame someone else's lifestyle for not matching yours.
To see a provincial government bend over backward to a 20-year-old curriculum all under the context of shielding little Timmy's poor ears and eyes from progressive education is especially saddening.
