Category Archives: Family Issues

Teen Pregnancy: What’s the Problem?

Jane Jimenez

Jane Jimenez

January 3, 2005

“Did you know? The only 100% foolproof way to prevent pregnancy is not to have sex?”

This is front page news heralded by the National Campaign to Prevent Teen Pregnancy on its website home page.  Recognizing the significance of America’s problem with teen pregnancies, they have set a goal to “reduce the rate of teen pregnancy by one-third between 1996 and 2005.”  This is the final year…a time to measure success…or failure.

The National Campaign website goes to great lengths to explain the urgency of this goal.  “A basic tenet of the Campaign is that reducing the nation’s rate of teen pregnancy is one of the most strategic and direct means available to improve overall child well-being and, in particular, to reduce persistent child poverty.”

Connecting cause to effect, their website points an official finger at the cause of teen pregnancies…having sex.  Ah…well…yeah…mmm…but…well, then what?

So…you don’t have sex?  And you don’t get pregnant?  This is news?

Ah…well…yeah…mmm…but…sex…well…then…what?  You don’t have sex?  Forever?  A lump forms in our throat.  Forever?  No sex?

The problem with the problem of teen pregnancy in America is our reluctance to deal with the solution.  We get as far as telling teens to not have sex…telling them this will prevent teen pregnancy.  But we have yet to settle as a nation on the time when they get to have sex.

If teens are going to be willing to abstain from having sex, we owe them a standard for the defining time when having sex is OK.  When can they start having sex?

There is a long list of answers that have been trotted out over the years…you can have sex…

…when you’re in love

…when you’re responsible

…when you’re mature

…or my favorite…

…when you’re ready…to have sex.

For thirty years, giving teens approval to have sex at the moment when they felt responsible and mature and ready, we pushed teen pregnancy rates to an all-time high in 1990 of 117 pregnancies per 1000 girls ages 15-19.

Then a change began.  In the early 1990s, maverick trend-setting teachers, bucking the “truisms” of sexual “enlightenment,” began to teach students the truth.  Sex causes pregnancy.  And if you take this truth seriously, the only time to begin having sex is when you are ready to bear the responsibilities of being pregnant…giving birth…and raising a child…when you are married.

Doctors and legislators began to connect the dots between the cause and the problem of teen pregnancy.  In 1996, Congress allocated its first small sums of money to encourage innovative educators to find effective ways to teach this truth to students and to help them achieve success in remaining sexually abstinent until marriage.

In 2000, the last year reported on the National Campaign’s records for teen pregnancies, we can be heartened by signs of success.  From the high of 117 pregnancies per thousand in 1990, we achieved a low of 84 pregnancies per thousand in 2000.

Teens are getting the message.  They are responding.  But is this enough?

It is 2005, and we are reaching for the prize.  If we are to reach the National Campaign’s goal of a reduction by one-third in teen pregnancies from 1996 to 2005, we are looking at fewer than 65 pregnancies per 1000 teen girls.

If we truly desire to reach this goal, we must reflect once more with urgency on the messages we give teens about when to not have sex…and when to have sex.

When do we want them to have babies?  When do we want our children raising our grandchildren?  How many of us will feel blessed if our children are lucky enough to be unified with a spouse…together as mother and father, husband and wife…two parents who love each other and are committed to building an enduring relationship for the benefit of their children?

If we want to solve the problem of teen pregnancy, we will have to do more than tell teens when not to have sex.  We will have to set the standards for having sex…abstinence…until marriage…a good choice for this generation…and the generation of babies they will bring into the world.

August 13, 2004:    Only

October 22, 2004:   Bringing Poppa Home

See Archives for past editorials.

New Year’s Resolution: Another Kind of Diet

Jane Jimenez

Jane Jimenez

December 27, 2004

Is there anything we haven’t eaten in the past week: ham, tamales, potatoes, chocolate, brandy, wine…and…

On the way to eating, there is tasting, munching, nibbling and sipping.  Whatever you call it, the food goes in…and settles in for a long winter’s nap…right around the waist.

One week later, stuffed to the gills, we must face the truth.  A diet is in order.  The belt is tight, and we are too bottom-heavy to lift out of the recliner.  Eating may be natural, but it certainly has its limits.

Guided by New Year’s Resolutions, millions of Americans begin to set boundaries on what we put in our mouth.  We post calorie counts on the refrigerator door, we empty the kitchen of temptation and we carry boxed chocolates to the office.

Indulging at the banquet table comes at a cost.  Anyone laboring to shed a few “holiday pounds” knows the painful and difficult process of “paying for our pleasure.”  Food is only one item on a long list of indulgences…each with a cost.

For the past thirty years, we have winked at sexual indulgences, and our children are paying the price.  An epidemic of sexually transmitted diseases and thousands of children raised by single moms are testimony to the need for a diet of a different kind.

Abstinence education is about more than sex.  It is a diet for the soul.  It is about making the connections for our children between the indulgence and the consequence.  It offers children hope because it tells them they don’t have to pay a price if they can learn restraint.

Abstinence education is about the dreams of our children, about the quality of their lives both now and forever.  It works to give young people the imagination, confidence and tools to fulfill their dreams.  Sex is a part of the dream.  And so is restraint.

Debates over sex education continue to rage.  Millions of dollars are being poured into campaigns to paint abstinence educators as fear-filled, shame-based fools.  After all, one condom-friendly sexpert lectured her audience…sex is natural…like eating.

This was the major point she wanted to make?  A woman with over twenty years experience in teaching our children about sex?

She turned to face an abstinence teacher and lashed out in her most indignant voice.  “We want our children to celebrate sex.  We don’t need them to be fearful and filled with shame.  We want them to feel at home with their sexuality.  After all, sex is perfectly natural.”

She smiled…smugly.  She had trumped any challenge to acting on a sexual urge.  Well…after thirty years of reassuring our children that sex is natural, these sexperts have achieved their goal…and more.

No fear and no shame…this goes a long way to explain Superbowl XXXVIII and its international show of bumping and grinding center stage…pelvic thrusts set to music…complete with one naked breast.  Not to mention MTV.  And this sexpert wants us to believe the most pressing thing to teach our children is that sex is natural?

Eating is natural.  But it is only healthy when it is managed, limited, and held inside the bounds of medical realities by exercising self control.  Eating is not to be feared.  But it is to be restrained.  If not, why bother with New Year’s Resolutions?

Sex, just like dining at a banquet table filled with delectable dishes, is a passion best enjoyed when boundaries are observed.  Natural desires have natural consequences.  This is the truth from which we build New Year’s Resolutions…both for the kitchen and for the bedroom.

No fear.  No shame.  Teaching our children restraint is not about teaching shame.  Restraint is their ultimate liberation from the very real fear of paying a consequence more severe than a few extra holiday pounds around the waist.

Our children need more than the simplistic reassurance that sex is natural.  They need the perfection of nature’s ultimate truth:  Our greatest hopes and dreams are more often than not fulfilled with a simple resolution of self-control made…and kept.

Happy New Year.

April 16, 2004:   One Stop Shopping

April 30, 2004:  Condoms: A Failure to Protect

May 28, 2004:   What If

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The Best Part of Snuggling

Jane Jimenez

Jane Jimenez

December 10, 2004

It is black outside.  Soft pits and pats against the window…rain…and I pull the blanket closer, sinking back into the arm of the recliner.  A hot cup of tea rests at my elbow.  It is my favorite time of the day.

In the darkness, I think back to other special mornings, twenty years ago.  Wrapped in my green plush robe, rocking back and forth, it was many a quiet dark morning when I would slowly sense the presence of another person.  My son, a toddler of three, had padded into the living room, up next to my chair, with his small eyes fixed on me.

Wordlessly, in agreement that the peace of the morning was large enough for both of us, I would open my robe.  Knowing what to do, he climbed onto my lap, and I pulled the robe around us, a snuggling of two.  In many a dark early morning, so many years ago, we kept the peace together.

Snuggling…it’s hard to know the best part.  Is it the dark, the quiet, the soft touch of a hand on the shoulder?  Is it protection, comfort, acknowledgement, relationship?  Safety?  Is it the promised assurance between human beings that what happens to you will happen to me because I share your heartbeat?

I was jarred to attention last week.  I was asked to consider the first time I ever snuggled, my earliest snuggle of life, and the question brought me up short.

Was it inside the warm white blanket wrapped around me as I was laid into the arms of my mother in the hospital?  Or was it later…close against her as she nursed me, her firstborn?  Maybe my father was the first to snuggle me, peering intently, measuring the smallest eyes and lips of a baby…his…held in the crook of his arm.

Maybe…but the magic of science has opened the window on snuggling, and I think it must surely have been weeks, even months before my birth, when I knew I was safe, a knowing of safety available to all living beings even before they can explain it in words.

Surely, weeks before birth, wrapped into a bundle of baby, between my bursts of pushing and kicking against the walls of the womb…surely there were quiet moments shared with my mother where we snuggled and dreamt.  Already at this stage I had fine hair, teeth, and eyelash fringes around eyelids that opened and closed…and opened again…for infant eyes that looked around.  When she spoke, I knew my mother’s voice…outside…serenading me as I waited my time.

Certainly, even weeks earlier, when the womb was large enough for me to swim and stretch and turn somersaults, I took time to rest and sleep and snuggle.  Inside my mother’s quiet belly, worn out from my infant gymnastics, curling my toes, I would have stuck my thumb into my mouth and felt the safety of darkness…protected and safe.

One thing is certain.  I know I snuggled long before I made my first appearance under bright hospital lights.  No matter what some want to claim I was back then…a blob, a mass of cells, an embryo, a fetus…a product of conception…I was, without a doubt, a flourishing child of my parents, thriving and growing.

Today, cloaked in a battle of terminology, creating labels devoid of humanity, there are those who wish us to forget that we once snuggled in the womb.  They will not have their way with me.

I claim my existence, refusing to be dehumanized at any stage of development.  Supported by the miraculous development of four-dimensional ultrasound, doctors and parents can follow the development of babies like me.  At eight weeks, I was fully formed, a human of one inch in length, every organ present, with a strong beating heart.

At nine weeks, my fingerprints were already engraved, and my fingers were ready to grasp an object placed in my palm.

At ten weeks, my body was sensitive to touch. I squinted and swallowed. I puckered my brow and frowned.

And then I smiled…at eleven weeks.  And if I could smile, it is certain that I smiled because I felt safe, snuggled inside, nurtured and protected…my life ahead to be enjoyed and cherished.

So many years later, watching the dawn break on the mountains outside the window, I follow the beads of rain that trickle down the glass.  Another beautiful day outside, crisp and damp.  The garden will sparkle when the sun breaks through the clouds.  I take a sip of tea and pull the blanket up under my chin.

My son is grown now, and I must snuggle alone.  It’s enough, but it’s not the best there is.

If there really is a best thing to snuggling, this would have to be it…revived by thoughts of long ago…a bundle wrapped together, two of us sharing the morning…the best thing of all surely being the promised assurance between human beings that what happens to you will happen to me…because I share your heartbeat.

 *************************************

DEDICATION 

This column is dedicated to the many committed educators who are not afraid to teach our children about their earliest days of life inside the womb.  May these faithful teachers be encouraged in their work.

 

See Archives for past editorials.

 June 25, 2004:  Unplanned Joy

Holy Indignation, Batman!

Jane Jimenez

Jane Jimenez

November 29, 2004

Life was never so simple as when the Holy Crusader faced down evil in Gotham City. No matter the villain…The Riddler, The Penguin, The Joker…Batman always defeated his enemy.

Batman, my hero.  He knew what evil looked like, and he went after it with a vengeance.  He chased, he sped, he dashed and crashed.  And when he finally had his hands on the dastardly villain, he knew how to fight…BANG!  SLAM!  POW*!#/*

The NFL could take a few lessons from Batman.  Once billed as wholesome family entertainment, it has made itself a haven for filth.  Janet’s bra snaps and the best Commissioner Tagliabue can do is say he was “extremely disappointed.”  Nicolette’s towel drops and the NFL calls the incident “inappropriate.”  Slap, punch, crunch and cry!  Holy Indignation, Batman!

The NFL has spawned The Refrigerator, Iron Man, The Boomer, and The Purple People Eaters.   So tell me one thing.  Where is all this testosterone when you need it…in the corporate board room…facing down the porn producers intent on degrading the last bastion of wholesome family entertainment?

Does anyone need to remind the good Commissioner of Football City that he owns ABC on Monday nights?  Why, after $550,000 in fines and the screams from millions of angry moms and dads, did Terrell Owens think he could get a pass from his employer for this stunt?

Let’s say we actually believe Janet’s story, her “accident” was an instantaneous gaff in front of the camera where there was no time to turn away.  We’re shocked.  Tongues wag.  We decry and shout and hammer the table.  No more! Slam, Bang!

But what about Nicolette’s story?  Planning a commercial takes months and involves hundreds of people.  From top to bottom, ABC and NFL, commissioners, writers, cameramen, lighting directors, film editors and towel distributors are involved in concocting a 30-second strip tease.  Not to mention Terrell’s bragging rights in the locker room.

Where is Batman when we need him?  Ka-Crash! Ka-Bam! Ka-Pow!

We have lost the ability to be indignant at the moments of decision when the “right decision” is possible.  At any point in the process of filming this locker room seduction scene, even one person with good sense and courage could have shut down this assault on America.

If the NFL had learned anything at all from SuperBawdy XXXVIII, Terrell, his agent, his coach, and his friends wouldn’t have given one wink to the idea of Terrell wrapping his arms around a naked girly-girl on prime time national television.

Hey, Commissioner T, take a lesson from another guy in tight tights.  Batman wasn’t just “disappointed” when The Joker hit Gotham.  He was enraged!

Batman left no stone unturned in his battle to save the city.  Using everything at his disposal…Batgadgets, Batlab, Batcave, and Batmobile…tights, cape and mask…Batman set out to win.  Ka-Crash! Ka-Bam! Ka-Pow!

It’s time for the NFL to show the courage of the Holy Crusader.  Using the same ingenuity and strategizing needed to create a winning two-minute drill, the good Commissioner needs to take charge.  Out with the “disappointment” and in with the “indignation.”  Raise a little ruckus, Paul.  You and all your friends, get rowdy to tonight.  BANG!  SLAM!  POW*!#/*

Holy indignation, Batman!  Can you believe a league of grown men in tights can’t solve this problem?  You can’t?

Well…neither can we.

For thoughts on Superbawdy XXXVIII:  Thank You, Janet

Open Letter to Paul Tagliabue:  Dear Paul

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Kinsey: Brave New World?

Jane Jimenez

Jane Jimenez

November 19, 2004

On December 7, 1941, Japan attacked Pearl Harbor.  World War II focused national attention on a global threat to mankind.  Meanwhile, unobtrusively, in the heartland of America, the seed of a quieter, but equally profound attack on America was taking root.

On the quiet campus of Indiana University, a group of researchers was busy interviewing men and women, collecting data on their intimate sex lives.  Alfred Kinsey seemed to be the perfect man to direct this project:  married, a father of three children, a zoologist well-respected for his work with gall wasps, and known around campus for his open and comfortable approach to talking about sex.

Kinsey’s move from gall wasps to humans began even before 1938 when popular lore has it that “the Association of Women Students petitioned Indiana University for a course for students who were married or contemplating marriage.”  On the side, outside of his regular teaching duties in the zoology department, he began to collect sexual histories, developing an extensive list of over 350 interview questions which he committed to memory.

When soldiers returned home in 1945, Kinsey was on the home stretch of preparing his findings for the American public.  On January 5, 1948, Sexual Behavior in the Human Male was published.  While it had only one week as #1, it spent 43 weeks, just short of one year, on The New York Times bestseller’s list.  A second volume, Sexual Behavior in the Human Female, followed in 1953.

Kinsey’s authority on sexual behavior went virtually unchallenged for thirty years.  Then on July 23, 1981, at the Fifth World Congress of Sexology in Jerusalem, a diminutive American psychologist stepped to the podium to present her research findings to a standing-room only session.

I was confident my sexology colleagues would be as outraged as was I by these tables [Tables 30-34 from Male] and the child data describing Kinsey’s reliance on pedophiles as his child sex experimenters.  Perhaps worst of all for me, as a scholar and a mother were pages 160 and 161 where Kinsey claimed his data came from ‘interviews.’  How could he say 196 little children—some as young as two months of age—enjoyed ‘fainting,’ ‘screaming,’ ‘weeping,’ and ‘convulsing’?  How could he call these children’s responses evidence of their sexual pleasure and ‘climax’?  I called it evidence of terror, of pain, as well as criminal.  One of us was very, very sexually mixed up.

Dr. Reisman laid out her charges methodically, presenting slides of Tables 30-34 and analyzing the specific entries which calculated the rates and timed the speeds of orgasms in at least 317 infants and children.  How, she challenged the audience, did rape and molestation of children ever make the transition from criminal activity to research?  And she rested her case.

“The reaction in the room was heavy:  it was numbing for some, discomforting for others.”  A Kinsey Institute representative present for her presentation predictably “protested that none of this was true.”  Yet, Dr. Reisman felt certain her documentation would be a call to action, stimulating an immediate and thorough scientific review of Kinsey’s research.

She recalls what actually happened. “Late that afternoon my young assistant from Haifa University returned from lunch visibly shaken.  She had dined at a private table with the international executives of the conference.  My paper was hotly contested and largely condemned, since everyone at her table of about twelve men and women wholeheartedly agreed that children could, indeed, have ‘loving’ sex with adults.”

This potential “loving sex” is best described by Kinsey’s coauthor Dr. Paul Gebhard in a letter to Dr. Reisman, where he explained the source of data on the tables in question.  The data, Gebhard explained, “were obtained from parents, teachers and male homosexuals, and …some of Kinsey’s men used ‘manual and oral techniques’ to catalog how many ‘orgasms’ infants and children could produce in a given amount of time.”

Further research by Reisman linked “some of Kinsey’s men” to one man in particular, Mr. Rex King.  Biographer James Jones fleshes out the details in an interview for a Yorkshire documentary, Secret History: Kinsey’s Paedophiles.  “Kinsey relied upon [King] for the chapter on childhood sexuality in the male volume….I think that he was in the presence of pathology at large and…Kinsey…elevated to, you know, the realm of scientific information…what should have been dismissed as unreliable, self serving data provided by a predatory pedophile.”

While trained sexologists easily dismissed this sexual abuse of children as “loving sex with adults,” persistent inquiries from concerned lay people finally prompted The Kinsey Institute to post responses to these charges on its web site.  These statements, drafted by Director John Bancroft, M.D., are carefully worded denials that proceed to confirm the truth of the charges but “explain” them in “harmless” terms.  In other words, “It depends on what the meaning of is is.”

Before you buy a ticket to the new movie Kinsey, consider this.  Papers promote the film with an endorsement from Paul Gebhard, the man who catalogued orgasms of infants and children and used this to demonstrate the benefits of incest.  He likes the film.  He gives Kinsey a thumbs-up.

What could this film do to offend Mr. Gebhard?  He gives a thumbs-up to Kinsey, but consider who is behind the thumb.  Endorsing fame and adulation for one of the greatest child abusers of the modern world is child’s play for a man unmoved by the ‘screaming,’ ‘weeping,’ and ‘convulsing’ of innocent children.

Considering seeing Kinsey?  Don’t.

See Archives for past editorials.