Popped Cherry?

I never expected to have to explain the function of female reproductive organs to a group of eight year olds while on a rollerblading adventure to the park. But that’s what happened today. It all started with Janie* (name has been changed for privacy) coming up to me, pointing to her face, and cheerfully saying “look, I started acne.” First of all, I was quite shocked any girl would volunteer and point out this information. Most of us try to hide it. I probably had acne at age eight too, due to the fact that Exxon/Mobil was renting out my pores to create oil for America’s SUV addiction. “Oh,” I said in reply, because what are you really supposed to say to something like that? Then Janie says, “Yeah, I get to use my mom’s Mary Kay on it. Well, under her supervision.” Then I understood. It wasn’t so much the excitement of inflammation of the pores as it was the glamorous remedy to put on it. Janie’s openness about her changing body didn’t stop there. How I wish it had.

WARNING! Womanly things discussed in next paragraphs!
I supervised Janie and three other girls to the nearby park on rollerblades. We sat on a bench to take a break. Janie pointed out her new acne development to the others, then said, “and when I’m 12 I get to shave my legs.” The next thing I hear is “It’s not fair. My younger sister already started her period, and she’s just starting the 3rd grade.” This statement surprised me on several levels. 1) Why wouldn’t you be thankful that your sister started her period before you? Prevent it from happening as long as possible, I think. 2) This is TMI. Why are you sharing this with me? I really don’t know you that well. 3) She’s not even in the 3rd grade and already has started her period? How incredibly tragic. There goes your carefree childhood literally flushed down the toilet in a bloody mess. Another reason not to feed your children hormone injected beef and milk. Look what may come of it.

One of the other girls then asks, “what’s a period?” Instead of saying “it’s terminal punctuation,” I become quite technical and say “inside your body you have a uterus, and the uterus has a lining that sheds once a month because it is practicing to get ready for a baby. The lining is made of blood, and that’s what comes out.” The girl says “I think I’ve heard my aunt talk about a period.” And then Janie says, “also once a month you get really grumpy.” I nod my head at this and say “yes, sometimes people get cranky.” The other girl says “my aunt is cranky a lot.” You’d think it would stop here. But it doesn’t.

Janie continues to educate her peers. “You also have a cherry inside of you. Well, it’s not actually a cherry, but it’s like a cherry and when you pop your cherry it squirts out blood and you bleed for a few days and have to wear a pad.” I do not bother to correct Janie on this matter. Let all of the girls think they have a blood filled cherry floating around in their stomach that might erupt at any given point. I do not feel the need to say, “actually, it is not a cherry it is called your hymen. It doesn’t look like a cherry at all. It is a thin membrane of tissue that may get torn during a female’s first intercourse. However, it can be broken doing everyday things like riding your bike or other physical activity.” No, I do not say this at all. I did not sign up for this. I was asked to take a few girls rollerblading, not a Q and A about menstruation and sex and adolescence. I do not need girls going home and asking their mothers about their “cherry,” informing parents that they heard about it at outdoor recreation camp. I may be licensed to teach health education, but that doesn’t mean I am going to give an impromptu lesson to eight year olds in the park among the squirrels. What it ultimately comes down to is this: I don’t get paid enough to have to go through this.