I have been doing a lot more thinking about what it means to teach at a Catholic college, investigation into the particular Catholic college, reading about the faculty, and consulting with friends. All in all, my reactions are mixed. I think that the academic opportunities at this particular school are wonderful. It seems likely to me that my husband, with two M.A.s, would be more likely to find a tenure track position at this school than most others, which is not a consideration to be taken lightly. The city is more than I could hope for in terms of size, safety, affordability, and education. Everything points in the direction of my going there. Plus, they seem to like me so far. All good. So I have wondered, if everything is so nicely lined up, does this perhaps signal that this is a good place for me? That perhaps, just in being a practicing Catholic faculty member, I might be doing some good? I definitely made reference to my faith in my letter, so they know. The phrase I used was "faithful, practicing Catholic," which is certainly what I try to be. It is possible that they are actively looking to recruit Catholic faculty members, as John Paul II recommends in Ex Corde Ecclesia. The school is in the process of a massive academic restructuring, and some of their recent administrative changes suggest a move to a more conservative vision of Catholicism--one that does not, for example, engage students with questions of whether humans are unique in creation, whether God can be conceived of as female, or whether homosexual acts are, indeed morally wrong, without stating that the courses stress a Roman Catholic perspective. Such courses, in the nature of their questioning, seem designed to undermine faith in the Church's moral teaching and ultimately to encourage questioning of the Church's authority.
That there is an atmosphere of change seems positive to me. That the school that an upper administrator left is now commended by the Newman society seems positive to me. The Newman society is a little wacky, but they do stand for orthodoxy. As for myself, in thinking about all of this I have decided that a multiplicity of voices can and should be represented in the curriculum of a Catholic college or university--as with any college or university--but should not be presented in a way that deliberately undermines Catholic Church teaching. Inquiry and orthodoxy can go hand in hand. Indeed, one of my initial attractions to Catholicism was that it does emphasize learning and inquiry, questioning and pursuit of answers. But to be Catholic is to acknowledge that there is such a thing as Truth, and to trust that the Church has the authority to guide the faithful toward that Truth. We may question, we may struggle, but if we don't ultimately acknowledge that authority, we are not Catholic, but dissenters. There is a considerable amount of misunderstanding on this topic, and about what makes a Catholic Catholic. If one disagrees on fundamental matters, then one is not in communion with the Church. If you don't want central authority, you don't become Catholic.
So I have some good feelings about the position.
But there's the overall atmosphere of the university, which I had partially reconciled, or put on hold for further evaluation, and then there's the climate of the department. A very, very small department. At least two are activists. Possibly three. Different issues; some I can rationalize better than others. Any English department I enter will contain some people with whom I am at odds politically. But that's life, and not really a problem. I don't really have a cause--unless you consider orthodoxy at Catholic colleges a cause. I've got some thoughts on genetically modified foods and vaccines. And parents rights in their children's education. And I tend to be outspoken about promoting a culture of life. But I'm not an activist, by any definition, though I do use my writing to support my perspectives about these issues. Similarly, one of the faculty members at the college uses her writing to promote her perspectives. Specifically, she uses her fiction to portray, dramatize, and promote (casually, I might add) lifestyle choices that are in direct opposition to Church teaching. She was raised Roman Catholic, but clearly rejects Church teaching, at least on a matter or two. It is entirely possible that we will get along just fine. At another university, it would be a non-issue. But I wonder--how would it be for me to consider joining a department, being her colleague, saying, yes, I will uphold the school's Catholic identity, and take an office down the hall from someone whose novels oppose Catholic sexual morality? How would I, as a new faculty member, be implicated, if at all, by joining a department at a Catholic college that awards tenure to members whose creative output contradicts Church teaching? Does it matter that it is a social question rather than a theological question? Does it matter to me at all, since I did not hire her? It might. Or it might not. It might simply be a question of the climate of the university, and who knows how that might change with new hires in the next 5 years? To clarify, this is not about the person, but about her choice to set up shop at a Catholic college. It is also about the department's decision to hire her given her own social agenda. I think this kind of thing would be a non-issue to the religious order that founded the college. Their priorities are social justice and feminism--including increasing women's roles within the Church. One of their number wrote a book that recommends praying to God in a female persona. But she doesn't teach in the college. Not sure where in the U.S. she is.
So no conclusions--not yet. Just more questions.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Parents, Teacher, Students, Values, and Censorship
I'm pretty sure I need to bid farewell to children's literature. Teaching it to undergrads becomes a problem for me when what the text is doing is second to how the text is used in the classroom, and when the text's purpose--that is, how it wants the reader to respond to it--conflicts with my values as a parent. Especially since all they ever want to talk about is the text's usefulness for talking about something other than the text.
Over and over again, I see and hear discussions of who has a right--and it is always discussed in terms of rights--to decide what is taught in the classroom. On the one hand, I teach books, so I uphold my own right to decide this. But I have a degree in my subject field--not an education degree--and I teach literature, not "opening children's minds to the reality of life" and "encouraging children to actively question the values of their parents," which is apparently the goal of reading and literature classes on the elementary, middle, and high school levels. I wonder to myself when "intellectually challenging" became conflated with "controversial" or "socially and politically relevant"--there does not seem to be much distinction. This must mean that Shakespeare, Dante, and Homer are no longer intellectually challenging, and no teenager is going to get as much of a thrill from Grendel's mother, Ophelia's death, or the Cyclops's eye as from some hot, steamy sex scene in a third-rate historical novel. That's not dumbing down the curriculum, apparently, that's making it "relevant." Did you know that a rape scene automatically makes a text "relevant"? It's true. So romance-novel readers rejoice.
Yes, this is a rant, in part. Because "censorship" is a term that is bantered about irresponsibly. Am I in favor of censorship? No. Am I afraid to expose my child to challenging topics? No. Do I think I know better than the average teacher of elementary, middle, or high school what is appropriate and challenging for my child's grade level? Um. . . Yes. But that's beside the point, really.
I have a few major concerns about the selection of books for gradeschool curricula:
I don't want to keep them sheltered from the world, but I do want to give them a solid foundation without someone presenting a worldview that is contrary and asserting it over the one I struggle to instill. Exposure to ideas is one thing; asserting certain ideas over others is something else. So much has to do with the context in which something is introduced. And since I can't control the context in which a teacher presents something, and since at-home "damage control" pits me against the teacher and invites my child to take sides, I would like to have some consideration shown to me and my RIGHT to instill my values in my child when the teacher is selecting the books to be taught in a class. There is plenty of room for challenging, stimulating material without pissing off the parents. I see nothing wrong with parents suggesting that a book be substituted for another, depending on the book and the context. If I were teaching a book that fictionalized and dramatized aspects of Pope John Paul II's Theology of the Body at a public high school, would I be subject to censorship? How about if I taught a novel about a boy who struggled with his impulses toward homosexuality, only to decide on chastity, convert to Catholicism, and become a priest? Surely, this would not be tolerated in a public school. I would venture to say that such a book would be called dangerous and hate-filled. Such things will never *be* presented as alternate views. But why should the assumption of casual sex be touted as exposure to multiple viewpoints? I see no multiple voices. Only the reinforcement of the messages from society, media, advertising. Somehow, these are not questioned. Secular does not equal sexual. The sex lives of young people are fetishized by the media, the publishing industry, and teachers.
But I'm not sure this is really about sex for me. It's just the easiest way to talk about it. It's about teachers' disrespect for parents. Why should a parent's theoretical/anticipated position on curricula be demeaned in a textbook? And why should a teacher's worldview or talentless, lame attempt to stimulate discussion through shock be labeled as progressive and enlightened? And what is it about children that makes teachers want to "expose them to life"? Experience is lived for a reason. Context often dictates what we must do in response to a situation, and how we must cope. Books can help with this. Until the books are used to dictate a correct, "valid" response for everyone. Or to directly contradict certain ways of living life. Or to promote certain lifestyle choices as preferable to others. Then, we might have issues. And I might ask that you reconsider your syllabus. Because then it's about your agenda, not my child's mental development. When they turn 18 or enter college (whichever comes first), then challenge them to think about what they believe. I should have done my job by then. But make sure you respect them even then, if the answers they give are intelligent and well-reasoned.
And in the meantime, tell me. . . Why are rape and (pre-)teen sex more "relevant" than cultural concepts of hospitality? Death and dying? The individual in society? Human pursuit of the divine?
Over and over again, I see and hear discussions of who has a right--and it is always discussed in terms of rights--to decide what is taught in the classroom. On the one hand, I teach books, so I uphold my own right to decide this. But I have a degree in my subject field--not an education degree--and I teach literature, not "opening children's minds to the reality of life" and "encouraging children to actively question the values of their parents," which is apparently the goal of reading and literature classes on the elementary, middle, and high school levels. I wonder to myself when "intellectually challenging" became conflated with "controversial" or "socially and politically relevant"--there does not seem to be much distinction. This must mean that Shakespeare, Dante, and Homer are no longer intellectually challenging, and no teenager is going to get as much of a thrill from Grendel's mother, Ophelia's death, or the Cyclops's eye as from some hot, steamy sex scene in a third-rate historical novel. That's not dumbing down the curriculum, apparently, that's making it "relevant." Did you know that a rape scene automatically makes a text "relevant"? It's true. So romance-novel readers rejoice.
Yes, this is a rant, in part. Because "censorship" is a term that is bantered about irresponsibly. Am I in favor of censorship? No. Am I afraid to expose my child to challenging topics? No. Do I think I know better than the average teacher of elementary, middle, or high school what is appropriate and challenging for my child's grade level? Um. . . Yes. But that's beside the point, really.
I have a few major concerns about the selection of books for gradeschool curricula:
- First, the idea that to get students "interested" you have to have something that's forbidden in some way, or something that ties DIRECTLY into some contemporary "issue" that we're all supposed to care about.
- Second, the idea that because kids "will be exposed to this anyway," teachers are obligated or justified in making it the subject of class discussion, analysis, and inquiry.
- The idea that kids "can handle it." Kids can handle a lot. They are resilient. Does that mean we need to thrust it upon them?
- The notion that parents want to limit children to their own (parents' own) values and thereby prevent children from figuring things out for themselves.
I don't want to keep them sheltered from the world, but I do want to give them a solid foundation without someone presenting a worldview that is contrary and asserting it over the one I struggle to instill. Exposure to ideas is one thing; asserting certain ideas over others is something else. So much has to do with the context in which something is introduced. And since I can't control the context in which a teacher presents something, and since at-home "damage control" pits me against the teacher and invites my child to take sides, I would like to have some consideration shown to me and my RIGHT to instill my values in my child when the teacher is selecting the books to be taught in a class. There is plenty of room for challenging, stimulating material without pissing off the parents. I see nothing wrong with parents suggesting that a book be substituted for another, depending on the book and the context. If I were teaching a book that fictionalized and dramatized aspects of Pope John Paul II's Theology of the Body at a public high school, would I be subject to censorship? How about if I taught a novel about a boy who struggled with his impulses toward homosexuality, only to decide on chastity, convert to Catholicism, and become a priest? Surely, this would not be tolerated in a public school. I would venture to say that such a book would be called dangerous and hate-filled. Such things will never *be* presented as alternate views. But why should the assumption of casual sex be touted as exposure to multiple viewpoints? I see no multiple voices. Only the reinforcement of the messages from society, media, advertising. Somehow, these are not questioned. Secular does not equal sexual. The sex lives of young people are fetishized by the media, the publishing industry, and teachers.
But I'm not sure this is really about sex for me. It's just the easiest way to talk about it. It's about teachers' disrespect for parents. Why should a parent's theoretical/anticipated position on curricula be demeaned in a textbook? And why should a teacher's worldview or talentless, lame attempt to stimulate discussion through shock be labeled as progressive and enlightened? And what is it about children that makes teachers want to "expose them to life"? Experience is lived for a reason. Context often dictates what we must do in response to a situation, and how we must cope. Books can help with this. Until the books are used to dictate a correct, "valid" response for everyone. Or to directly contradict certain ways of living life. Or to promote certain lifestyle choices as preferable to others. Then, we might have issues. And I might ask that you reconsider your syllabus. Because then it's about your agenda, not my child's mental development. When they turn 18 or enter college (whichever comes first), then challenge them to think about what they believe. I should have done my job by then. But make sure you respect them even then, if the answers they give are intelligent and well-reasoned.
And in the meantime, tell me. . . Why are rape and (pre-)teen sex more "relevant" than cultural concepts of hospitality? Death and dying? The individual in society? Human pursuit of the divine?
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Catholic Colleges and Orthodoxy
Because the job search wasn't complex enough. . .
I'm starting to think that I have no business applying to Catholic colleges, since one of my concerns is orthodoxy--actual adherence to the Church's teaching, broadly conceived. What kind of battles will I be in for if I go to a school that violates or disregards Church teaching on life issues, ordination of women, and even questions whether it is just to exclude non-Catholics from the Eucharist? Matters of conscience even get tricky at a secular, state school; how much more so if the administration of a Catholic college where I worked were to promote an agenda opposed to Church teaching? And yet, I interview by phone tomorrow with a college that was founded by an order that ABSOLUTELY supports women's ordination. Campus ministry reluctantly acts according to the will of the local bishop in refusing Communion to non-Catholics (not the Vatican, you will notice). I even emailed for clarification on this point, and the tone was one of remorse and sad disagreement. I have no idea how this would influence the tenor of the English department, except that the faculty members list the subjects about which they will willingly be interviewed by the press on their web pages--yes, that's ENGLISH faculty, people. Yet they're hiring for a position that would, essentially, oversee the school's orthodoxy, including screening new hires for willingness to adhere to the school's mission, uphold Catholic identity, etc. This person does not have to be a practicing Catholic.
What to do??
I'm starting to think that I have no business applying to Catholic colleges, since one of my concerns is orthodoxy--actual adherence to the Church's teaching, broadly conceived. What kind of battles will I be in for if I go to a school that violates or disregards Church teaching on life issues, ordination of women, and even questions whether it is just to exclude non-Catholics from the Eucharist? Matters of conscience even get tricky at a secular, state school; how much more so if the administration of a Catholic college where I worked were to promote an agenda opposed to Church teaching? And yet, I interview by phone tomorrow with a college that was founded by an order that ABSOLUTELY supports women's ordination. Campus ministry reluctantly acts according to the will of the local bishop in refusing Communion to non-Catholics (not the Vatican, you will notice). I even emailed for clarification on this point, and the tone was one of remorse and sad disagreement. I have no idea how this would influence the tenor of the English department, except that the faculty members list the subjects about which they will willingly be interviewed by the press on their web pages--yes, that's ENGLISH faculty, people. Yet they're hiring for a position that would, essentially, oversee the school's orthodoxy, including screening new hires for willingness to adhere to the school's mission, uphold Catholic identity, etc. This person does not have to be a practicing Catholic.
What to do??
Monday, March 9, 2009
Christian Parents and Pre-Teen Guides to Sex
I've been in hibernation lately, I know. I do spend more time than I should online, but as I've mentioned before, I'm trying to limit myself to the sort of fleeting thoughts that lend themselves to Facebook status updates, and channel the complex meditative asides into something that might pass as academically productive. We'll see how that works out.
[For fear of Google, I have comment moderation on]
Recently, however, we encountered some issues with my son (now 12) that necessitated the opening of a pretty weighty subject--how to address topics related to sexuality in an informative, sex-positive, yet Catholic Christian context. And, well, I want him to have a book or books to turn to when curiosity arises and he doesn't necessarily feel like getting a parental lecture--because too often, I think, we give too much information and bore the heck out of him, truthfully. . . So while we are open to questions, and correct misperceptions or misbehavior, explain when necessary, I think a good book is a good thing to have. But where to go? He's younger than the target age for the Theology of the Body for Teens resources, and most of the Catholic resources that I've seen for younger ages address the spiritual aspects of where babies come from, and feelings of love, etc. Basically, I wasn't finding much actual information about anatomy, biological functions, adolescence--you know, the basics! Perhaps I wasn't looking in the right places, but I'm pretty good at looking, and I wasn't finding. So I looked at the mainstream/secular resources, which of course, went in the opposite direction.
I believe that even if I *wanted* to affirm, promote, and emphasize use of birth control, as I would have at one point but do not now, I would still think that 12 is too young. He knows that birth control exists. Last year, he asked me whether there was a kind of medicine that a woman could take to prevent her from having a baby. I said yes, there was, and explained the Church's position on contraception in basic terms. At this stage, I don't want a book that details the various methods of contraception, though I am not--by any means--opposed to his learning about them. I will, of course, let him know our beliefs and the reason for those beliefs when the subject arises. He will make his decisions based on the information and moral guidance that we give to him, without the information being omitted.
The non-religious reference books on sexuality for youth that I found biologically informative and generally well-written also introduced and affirmed every type of sexual practice and lifestyle choice without any reference to the fact that not all lifestyle choices are condoned by all religions or *gasp!* parents. The books made it clear that these are exclusively personal matters and constructed implied child reader as independent from the beliefs and wishes of his/her parents. Basically, they provided an initiation into the happy utopia of adult sexuality. Ugh! You have no responsibility to anyone but yourself, so use protection and follow your impulses. Ugh! There was some stuff for girls about not being taken advantage of, some advice to empower girls to say no, but the overall message was that yes was good, too. Hence, the religious objection to sex ed: it not only provides information, it presents a certain world view and attitude toward sexuality that is largely self-serving and does not acknowledge that there may be other contexts for understanding human sexuality. This was not my experience of sex education, and I believe that this is because the average teacher of biology is not necessarily comfortable with promoting sexual practices to pre-teens or teens. There are, of course, exceptions, as the famous "condom-on-a-banana" anecdotes demonstrate. "Health" teachers might be a little more suspect. . .
So I admit that I do want to avoid the "You Might Be Gay--and It's Okay!" chapters. First, because however early homosexual feelings do appear, to confront and affirm them too early may lead to reckless lifestyle choices that are not informed by the wisdom and maturity of age. I would have scoffed to hear myself say such things when I was 17 (and a sophomore in college), but I can look back and see how my attitudes toward sexuality, which I developed largely on my own, matured over many years. Second, I want the Catholic version, that says, "You might be gay, and it's okay, because that's how God made you; but understand that the Church teaches that homosexual acts are inherently sinful, and you are called as a Catholic Christian to live according to this teaching. It may be that this is your cross to bear, and that you are called to a celibate life, and a life of service to others. This may be your special calling." I know it's unpopular. I have friends who are openly gay and live homosexual lifestyles, and they are dear friends, and I love them, but I have to acknowledge the teaching of my faith--which they do not share--in the instruction of my children, and my faith says that ALL lustful inclinations, ALL intercourse outside of the sanctity of marriage, and even some intercourse within the sanctity of marriage, is sinful. Men who aren't married, women who aren't married, homosexual and heterosexual--all are called to celibacy. Meanwhile, ALL people are called to chastity. It's a hard thing, so please don't blame me for it. I understand it and accept it, and will teach it to my children, as I am called to do.
Point is, of course, you're not going to find a book that says any of this. And with the Christian books, it's difficult to find a book that presents Christian teaching on alternative lifestyles sympathetically. Because taking something as a matter of faith, accepting and promoting an unpopular, politically incorrect teaching about sexuality, does not mean that you have to bulldoze through it and dismiss the feelings of those most intimately affected by the teaching. It does not mean that at all. So the book that had a table of contents arranged by "Thou Shall Nots"?--Uh uh. Not for me.
But, I did find some good books--two, to be exact. I apologize for making you read to the end of this to discover what they were. First, there was the "icebreaker"--the funny book, and to date, the only one of the two that my son has read (that he's admitted, anyway). It is called Lintball Leo's Not-so-Stupid Questions about Your Body. Published by ZonderKids, it is specifically geared towards boys, but there is one for girls, which I found first, and thought, "I wish there was one like this for boys!" and then looked on the next shelf. It provides information, does not insult the intelligence, does not preach, but does couch the physical, biological, and social questions that accompany puberty in a context that acknowledges nondenominational belief in God. Any divergences from Catholic teaching are very, very small--for example, it doesn't necessarily say that masturbation is a sin, but it does say that masturbation could become a part of sinful behavior or behavior patterns. The parent's objection to this statement could vary one way or another.
The second book I found had more information about sex--it read more like the mainstream sex ed books for teens/pre-teens in terms of what topics it covered, albeit from a Christian perspective. Again, I did not find the Christianity too prohibitive (that is, prohibitive in terms of "thou shall nots"), but do consider that I was looking for a minimally didactic book explaining sexuality within a Christian context. The book is titled, Sex and the New You, and is part of the Learning About Sex series published by Concordia Publishing House that is intended for children in various stages of curiosity about their bodies. The particular title I purchased is "For Young Men ages 13-15"--again, gender specific. There is a girls' version, and the difference is in the anatomical and social emphases. Each gender's version has a chapter relating to the anatomical features of and changes being experienced by the other, so the chapter "About Girls and Women" discussed female anatomy including menstruation--and has a drawing of a naked lady, to boot! And the glossary includes "clitoris"! ;) Emphasis is on respecting the bodies of others as well as yourself. I picked the age 13-15 volume because the younger volume was mostly centered on reproduction, and that was not the issue at hand. We were ready for a more mature set of subjects. But there is even a volume for ages 4-6, in picture book format, though I only noted it with passing interest. They are marketed as part of a home school or Christian school curriculum, or for individual use. The use of Bible verses was more extensive, but very tastefully done. I was less impressed with the title that was one "stage" down (all about reproduction), but each book has a different author, and it may well have been because it was not what I was looking for at the time. Still, I debated before choosing one over the other. Very occasionally, I disagree with generalizations about gender roles, but in general this is handled very well. The chapter on differences between men and women emphasizes that physical differences do not dictate differences in ability.
So that was a learning experience for me a couple of weeks ago, and hopefully yielded some information that will be helpful to others--and maybe I also provided some insight into what concerns Christian parents have about teaching sex ed to their kids. ;)
[For fear of Google, I have comment moderation on]
Recently, however, we encountered some issues with my son (now 12) that necessitated the opening of a pretty weighty subject--how to address topics related to sexuality in an informative, sex-positive, yet Catholic Christian context. And, well, I want him to have a book or books to turn to when curiosity arises and he doesn't necessarily feel like getting a parental lecture--because too often, I think, we give too much information and bore the heck out of him, truthfully. . . So while we are open to questions, and correct misperceptions or misbehavior, explain when necessary, I think a good book is a good thing to have. But where to go? He's younger than the target age for the Theology of the Body for Teens resources, and most of the Catholic resources that I've seen for younger ages address the spiritual aspects of where babies come from, and feelings of love, etc. Basically, I wasn't finding much actual information about anatomy, biological functions, adolescence--you know, the basics! Perhaps I wasn't looking in the right places, but I'm pretty good at looking, and I wasn't finding. So I looked at the mainstream/secular resources, which of course, went in the opposite direction.
I believe that even if I *wanted* to affirm, promote, and emphasize use of birth control, as I would have at one point but do not now, I would still think that 12 is too young. He knows that birth control exists. Last year, he asked me whether there was a kind of medicine that a woman could take to prevent her from having a baby. I said yes, there was, and explained the Church's position on contraception in basic terms. At this stage, I don't want a book that details the various methods of contraception, though I am not--by any means--opposed to his learning about them. I will, of course, let him know our beliefs and the reason for those beliefs when the subject arises. He will make his decisions based on the information and moral guidance that we give to him, without the information being omitted.
The non-religious reference books on sexuality for youth that I found biologically informative and generally well-written also introduced and affirmed every type of sexual practice and lifestyle choice without any reference to the fact that not all lifestyle choices are condoned by all religions or *gasp!* parents. The books made it clear that these are exclusively personal matters and constructed implied child reader as independent from the beliefs and wishes of his/her parents. Basically, they provided an initiation into the happy utopia of adult sexuality. Ugh! You have no responsibility to anyone but yourself, so use protection and follow your impulses. Ugh! There was some stuff for girls about not being taken advantage of, some advice to empower girls to say no, but the overall message was that yes was good, too. Hence, the religious objection to sex ed: it not only provides information, it presents a certain world view and attitude toward sexuality that is largely self-serving and does not acknowledge that there may be other contexts for understanding human sexuality. This was not my experience of sex education, and I believe that this is because the average teacher of biology is not necessarily comfortable with promoting sexual practices to pre-teens or teens. There are, of course, exceptions, as the famous "condom-on-a-banana" anecdotes demonstrate. "Health" teachers might be a little more suspect. . .
So I admit that I do want to avoid the "You Might Be Gay--and It's Okay!" chapters. First, because however early homosexual feelings do appear, to confront and affirm them too early may lead to reckless lifestyle choices that are not informed by the wisdom and maturity of age. I would have scoffed to hear myself say such things when I was 17 (and a sophomore in college), but I can look back and see how my attitudes toward sexuality, which I developed largely on my own, matured over many years. Second, I want the Catholic version, that says, "You might be gay, and it's okay, because that's how God made you; but understand that the Church teaches that homosexual acts are inherently sinful, and you are called as a Catholic Christian to live according to this teaching. It may be that this is your cross to bear, and that you are called to a celibate life, and a life of service to others. This may be your special calling." I know it's unpopular. I have friends who are openly gay and live homosexual lifestyles, and they are dear friends, and I love them, but I have to acknowledge the teaching of my faith--which they do not share--in the instruction of my children, and my faith says that ALL lustful inclinations, ALL intercourse outside of the sanctity of marriage, and even some intercourse within the sanctity of marriage, is sinful. Men who aren't married, women who aren't married, homosexual and heterosexual--all are called to celibacy. Meanwhile, ALL people are called to chastity. It's a hard thing, so please don't blame me for it. I understand it and accept it, and will teach it to my children, as I am called to do.
Point is, of course, you're not going to find a book that says any of this. And with the Christian books, it's difficult to find a book that presents Christian teaching on alternative lifestyles sympathetically. Because taking something as a matter of faith, accepting and promoting an unpopular, politically incorrect teaching about sexuality, does not mean that you have to bulldoze through it and dismiss the feelings of those most intimately affected by the teaching. It does not mean that at all. So the book that had a table of contents arranged by "Thou Shall Nots"?--Uh uh. Not for me.
But, I did find some good books--two, to be exact. I apologize for making you read to the end of this to discover what they were. First, there was the "icebreaker"--the funny book, and to date, the only one of the two that my son has read (that he's admitted, anyway). It is called Lintball Leo's Not-so-Stupid Questions about Your Body. Published by ZonderKids, it is specifically geared towards boys, but there is one for girls, which I found first, and thought, "I wish there was one like this for boys!" and then looked on the next shelf. It provides information, does not insult the intelligence, does not preach, but does couch the physical, biological, and social questions that accompany puberty in a context that acknowledges nondenominational belief in God. Any divergences from Catholic teaching are very, very small--for example, it doesn't necessarily say that masturbation is a sin, but it does say that masturbation could become a part of sinful behavior or behavior patterns. The parent's objection to this statement could vary one way or another.
The second book I found had more information about sex--it read more like the mainstream sex ed books for teens/pre-teens in terms of what topics it covered, albeit from a Christian perspective. Again, I did not find the Christianity too prohibitive (that is, prohibitive in terms of "thou shall nots"), but do consider that I was looking for a minimally didactic book explaining sexuality within a Christian context. The book is titled, Sex and the New You, and is part of the Learning About Sex series published by Concordia Publishing House that is intended for children in various stages of curiosity about their bodies. The particular title I purchased is "For Young Men ages 13-15"--again, gender specific. There is a girls' version, and the difference is in the anatomical and social emphases. Each gender's version has a chapter relating to the anatomical features of and changes being experienced by the other, so the chapter "About Girls and Women" discussed female anatomy including menstruation--and has a drawing of a naked lady, to boot! And the glossary includes "clitoris"! ;) Emphasis is on respecting the bodies of others as well as yourself. I picked the age 13-15 volume because the younger volume was mostly centered on reproduction, and that was not the issue at hand. We were ready for a more mature set of subjects. But there is even a volume for ages 4-6, in picture book format, though I only noted it with passing interest. They are marketed as part of a home school or Christian school curriculum, or for individual use. The use of Bible verses was more extensive, but very tastefully done. I was less impressed with the title that was one "stage" down (all about reproduction), but each book has a different author, and it may well have been because it was not what I was looking for at the time. Still, I debated before choosing one over the other. Very occasionally, I disagree with generalizations about gender roles, but in general this is handled very well. The chapter on differences between men and women emphasizes that physical differences do not dictate differences in ability.
So that was a learning experience for me a couple of weeks ago, and hopefully yielded some information that will be helpful to others--and maybe I also provided some insight into what concerns Christian parents have about teaching sex ed to their kids. ;)
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