By Rhona Canoy
SO... I stumbled across an article that talked about the alarming rise in teenage pregnancies. It said that, on the average, 530 teenage girls get pregnant every day. Although I did read the whole piece, my brain and my heart got stuck on that number. Even more so because it mentioned that a lot of focus is being paid to the 10- to 14-year-old bracket. With all the attention being paid to other things we consider significant (that big cauldron being one), maybe we need to ask ourselves just what is truly important.
The rise in teenage pregnancies covers a wide age range now—from 10 to 19. And, perhaps until it affects our families directly, we don’t want to deal with this particular reality because we still want to live in the delusional bubble of denial that our teenagers’ sexual behaviors are changing. This is certainly not the first time that I’ve written about it, but I’m beginning to notice that my columns are getting repetitive. It’s like there’s a part of me that feels that some things must be revisited for as many times as it begins to sink into our consciousness.
Sex education is being taught in health class in school as part of the curriculum. But I guess we’re teaching it wrong because of the rise in young pregnancies. When the idea of sex ed was first brought up, I remember the uproar from the parents because of the misconception (pun intended) that giving these children information about it would raise the probability that these teenagers would become sexually active. Maybe the focus was being placed on the wrong thing. Parents certainly aren’t doing a great job of educating their children about sex, because if they were then the statistics would reflect their success.
I don’t think the issue is about educating our children on the general concept of sex. For the most part, the Deped-approved curriculum focuses on reproduction and sexually transmitted diseases (HIV-AIDS included). Maybe some discussion should also be centered on sexual responsibility. Parents, for the most part, depend on the old reliable “Just say no,” or a system of prohibitions. Which means that mom and dad think that not allowing their kids to have girl- or boyfriends will address the matter. But does it, really?
The more traditional parents will force their pregnant daughter and the male provider of seed to marry because it is a social expectation. Bringing shame to the family reputation and all that garbage. Forcing children into a legally-permanent (at this time) partnership for the sake of social “cara” should be a human rights violation. There is a nagging thought that runs around my brain about how we are failing our young. Because that’s what we “grown-ups” are doing. The stigma placed upon using contraceptives is one such thing. Instead of scaring our kids from fornicating, maybe we should be responsible adults and talk to them about sex, pregnancy, accountability, birth control, parenthood. In that order.
It makes me sad that a lot of babies are accidental, and probably unwanted. If we are to look at the next generation as our beacon of hope for the future, then we’re in deep human excrement at this point. Many grandparents are having to assume the role of parent for these infants (forced is probably a better word) because they are born of children who are not prepared to take on the great responsibility of parenthood—financially, emotionally, and otherwise. Certainly, a burden that most parents carry by circumstance, and not by desire.
I know a girl who got pregnant at fifteen, mostly due to ignorance. And yet she comes from an average middle-class family, hard-working parents, who took the responsibility of taking care of and raising the child. All decisions were and are made by the grandparents. All the parental influence comes from the grandparents. And the biological mother (who is now in her early twenties) never had the privilege of bonding with her child. She sees her daughter as more of a younger sister, never having had much to do with the baby girl’s early life and upbringing. That’s really sad if one thinks about it.
Too much importance placed on virginity for our females. And yet, in the same breath, our young males are urged to get their first sexual experience in their mid-teens, and celebrated (by their misguided fathers) for doing so. Of course, I wonder who provides this first sexual experience for them, and what they’re supposed to do with their experience once it is obtained. Kind of like lending the boy a bicycle to learn to ride it, which the boy realizes is quite an enjoyable experience, then leaving him to his own devices to figure out where to get his next bicycle ride.
Our kids are savvier than we would like to admit. They have access to porn, morally questionable telenovelas, and movies—all without the benefit of a realistic and honest discussion with adults who are supposed to teach them the values that should accompany this information. So they have discussions with other equally ignorant kids their own age. Maybe we adults aren’t equipped to handle this either because we never had any worthwhile talks with our parents about it either.
At this point, I’m quite disappointed. I’ve had many unauthorized talks with young people who have legitimate questions and look for guidance. Unauthorized because their parents feel that their kids are too young to have The Talk, but that they should be the ones to do it. So the kids preface our conversations with, “Please, Ms. Don’t tell my mom and dad that we talked about this.” That’s actually kind of sad. I used to say no to such requests, but I see the desperation in their eyes. If only parents had it in them to be honest with their growing-up children about sexual behavior and responsibility. After all, some of these children were accidental too, so mom and dad would have all the experiential wisdom to share with them.
I always feel conflicted whenever I hear news that someone’s child or grandchild is pregnant. I don’t know whether to congratulate them or offer my condolences. I only know that many times, my first thought is that the mother is much too young.
