Few kids look forward to sex ed. A favorite family story of my mom fainting in class in the ’70s as her teacher explained how to use a tampon left me with a sense of foreboding as the dreaded day that I would take the class arrived.
I remember listening in morbid fascination to an explanation of the mechanics of sex, and looking at the illustrations in our health textbook that showed what our reproductive organs look like on the inside.
I recall agreeing with the textbook’s advice to wait for a long time to have sex. The information shared in the course didn’t do much for me, and I believed it wouldn’t come in handy until much later, when I got married.
But it was the 2000s, and of course I was wrong.
When as an unmarried 25-year-old I found myself in a new, fast-moving relationship, I thought that after telling him I wanted to wait to have sex for the first time and explaining the reasons why — ever thinking it sufficient to be clear and specific in my communication — that would be the end of the story.
So when he bypassed my wishes, I froze. Then, I told myself he simply “made the decision for us,” but it was OK. But my body understood what happened — deciding to protest with a mysterious, three-week illness — before my brain understood.
I’d been assaulted.
And I wasn’t alone. Over time, I began opening up to friends, learning that some of them had gone through similar experiences, and all those years I hadn’t known.
I made a police report. But the detective assigned to the case said that because I’d said, “I don’t want to” instead of, “No,” the crime couldn’t be prosecuted under Utah law.
When I first became a reporter, my job included reviewing criminal charges filed each day in Utah’s court system. I learned just how average my experience was. Experiences like ours don’t make the news. Studies in Utah have found that 1 in 3 women has been sexually assaulted, and 1 in 6 women report having been raped, according to the Utah Department of Health.
Nearly everyone agrees Utah has a problem with sexual assault.
One lawmaker this session wanted the state to require instruction on coercion, sexual violence behavior deterrence, and sexual assault mitigation as part of sex education instruction for students in grades seven through 12. Parents must opt-in for their child to participate in sex education classes.
The original version of the bill would have included consent education, but Rep. Carol Spackman Moss removed that part after lawmakers nixed the idea in the bill’s first hearing.
“My motivation is not to get some liberal curriculum into the schools as many people have made that accusation, but rather to give kids information that they can use to protect themselves,” HB177 sponsor Moss, D-Holladay, told a House committee early last month.
I cover the Legislature for the Deseret News, but I have not reported on this bill.
It was shot down in the House late last week with a 39-31 vote.
Before the bill met its demise, Moss expressed concern about a campaign led by State School Board member Natalie Cline, who has previously come under fire for warning parents of Jordan School District’s culture and diversity instruction in classrooms.
Cline distributed an email that alleges a video from Planned Parenthood would be shared with students as part of the consent training.
“We need to teach children to refuse sexual acts, not that they have the right to consent to them,” Cline said in the email.
The state representative called Cline’s claim baseless and “dangerous” — she told the caucus she worries it could hurt the bill’s chances of passing in a mostly Republican Legislature.
Let me repeat myself. Utah has a problem with sexual assault. A Senate committee meeting last week discussed (and rejected) a proposed ban on do-it-yourself sexual assault kits. During that meeting, dozens of survivors spoke out, some for the bill and some against it. Some described their failure to find justice and called for more options for victims. Others feared the self-collected kits, which aren’t permissible as evidence in court, will give false hope.
Many agreed that the issue comes down to the fact that Utah’s resources to prosecute perpetrators of sexual assault and help victims are stretched too thin.
Why not allow for one more tool to combat sexual violence?
I don’t know if what happened to me could’ve been prevented if I had received more comprehensive education about consent. I also don’t believe the education system is responsible for my naivety. But how could I have known I needed to educate myself on an issue I hardly knew existed?
I urge lawmakers to give HB177 another chance either at the end of this session or next year — and give the next generation of young Utahns and their families a better chance of avoiding the pain that so many of us have experienced.