What about Abstinence?
I was holding a notice
from my 13-year-old son's school
announcing a meeting to preview the new course in sexuality.
Parents could examine
the curriculum and take part in an actual lesson
presented exactly as it would be given to the students.
When I arrived at the
school, I was surprised to discover
only about a dozen
parents there.
As we waited for the
presentation,
I thumbed through page
after page of instructions
in the prevention of
pregnancy or disease.
I found abstinence
mentioned only in passing.
When the teacher arrived
with the school nurse,
she asked if there were
any questions.
I asked why abstinence
did not play a noticeable part in the educational
material.
What happened next was shocking.
There was a great deal
of laughter, and someone suggested
that if I thought
abstinence had any merit,
I should go back to
burying my head in the sand.
The teacher and the
nurse said nothing as I drowned in a sea of
embarrassment.
My mind had gone blank,
and I could think of nothing to say.
The teacher explained to
me that the job of the school was to teach
''facts,''
and the home was
responsible for moral training.
I sat in silence for the
next 20 minutes as the sexuality course was
explained.
The other parents seemed
to give their unqualified support to the
materials.
At the break time,
the teacher announced
that there were donuts in the back of the room
and
requested that everyone
put on a name tag and mingle with each other.
Everyone moved to the
back of the room.
As I watched them
affixing their name tags and shaking hands,
I sat deep in thought.
I was ashamed that I had
not been able to convince them to include
a serious discussion of
abstinence in the educational materials.
I uttered a silent
prayer for guidance.
My thoughts were
interrupted by the teacher's hand on my
shoulder.
''Won't you join the
others, Mr. Layton?'' The nurse smiled
sweetly at me.
''The donuts
are good.'' ''Thank you,
no,'' I replied.
''Well, then, how
about a name tag?
I'm sure the others
would like to meet you.''
''Somehow I doubt
that,'' I replied.
''Won't you please
join them?'' she coaxed.
Then I heard a still,
small voice whisper, ''Don't go.''
The message in my head
was unmistakable: ''Don't go!''
''I'll just wait
here,'' I said.
When the class was
called back to order,
the teacher looked
around the long table and thanked everyone
for putting on name
tags. She ignored me.
Then she said,
''Now we're going to
give you the same lesson we'll be giving your
children.
Everyone please peel off
your name tags and look at the back of the
tag.''
I watched in silence as
the tags came off.
''Now then, I drew a
tiny flower on the back of one of the tags.
Who has it,
please?'' the teacher asked.
The gentleman across
from me held it up. ''Here it is!''
''All right,''
she said.
''The flower
represents disease.
Do you recall with whom
you shook hands?''
He pointed to a couple
of people. ''Very
good,'' she replied.
''The handshake in
this case represents intimacy,
so the two people you
had contact with now have the
disease.''
There was laughter and
joking among the parents.
The teacher continued,
''And whom did the
two of you shake hands with?''
The point was well
taken, and she explained
how this lesson would
show students how quickly disease is
spread.
She concluded by saying,
''Since we all shook
hands, we all have the disease.''
It was then that I heard
the still, small voice again.
''Speak now,''
it said, ''but be humble.''
I wryly noted the latter
admonition, then rose from my chair.
I apologized for any upset I might have caused
earlier,
congratulated the
teacher on an excellent lesson that would impress
the youth, and concluded by saying I had only one
small point I wished to make.
''Not all of us were
infected with the disease,'' I said.
''One of us . .
.abstained.''
Author: Unknown
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