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A review by eatingchipsrightnow
Beyond Birds and Bees: Bringing Home a New Message to Our Kids about Sex, Love, and Equality by Bonnie J. Rough
3.0
As a preschool educator, I was intrigued by the premise of this book to model and teach healthy, affirming sex-ed to young children, aiding in the development of their autonomy, self-understanding, and sense of their own bodies.
Rough is clearly passionate about this topic and committed to research; I appreciated the PAGES and PAGES of easily referenceable research in the appendix. And integrations of her personal experiences as a mother and member of both American and Dutch social circles, while not necessarily resonant with me on some levels, gave interesting perspective into where she as an author is coming from, and the ways in which the issues of "sex, love, and equality" intersected with her personal life. I appreciated her candidness in discussing her own journey as a parent confronting the way she was raised, and the ideas she had been indoctrinated into surrounding sex and love, and ultimately: the stumbles in finding a different path for her own children. For my own work, I especially valued the parental perspective. As mentioned by other reviewers, I found some of the ultra-specific solutions to issues I anticipate encountering very helpful: such as how to address kids "playing doctor": okay as long as these guidelines are met; everyone must want to play, nothing will go in orifices, and boundaries must always be respected. To not frame diaper moments as gross, or dirty, but everyday bodily functions (refer to diapers only as "full" or "empty") so as not to instill bodily shame in the children accidentally. Among many others, which I will remember and reference at work. These points of the book are engaging and thoughtful.
However. There were some points where this book did not do it for me.
Firstly, as committed to the research process as Rough is, and seeking input for the development of her writings (interviewing people, etc), she was not similarly committed to employing consultants for her work. Specifically, trans consultants and consultants of color. There were many bits in this book that were just disappointing to read.
> She makes an effort to be inclusive of trans identities, but makes many easily fixable mistakes such as "adolescents with female reproductive organs" -- Rough is clearly making an attempt to include nonbinary and trans people with this type of language, but misses the mark totally. Calling a reference to her first few chapters: naming anatomy is important. There's no need to be scared of it. Just say "adolescents with uteruses and/or vaginas." Or, if you don't want to reference anatomy Directly, but still be respectful to trans people: "adolescents assigned female at birth." That's only one example, but there. Options. Honestly, it wouldn't be so irritating if she didn't turn around to then state some truths about the trans experience, such as the idea that not every child born into a binary gender ends up identifying that way. There are just a proliferation of microagressions in the midst of liberal framework. This also concerns me because I think a non-trans reader may get the impression that the harmful phraseology she uses is okay to use themselves, due to that liberal surround. Also, I found it strange that she supported the idea that preschoolers are not ready to learn the difference between sex and gender, and that it is effective to teach their interchangeability, only correcting the mistake years later in schooling. Children thrive off concepts that build off of each other. Telling a young student something and then later saying that it’s “more complicated” only affirms that the previous idea was essentially true, just basic. In the case of equating gender and sex, it’s a lie. Just because some adults find the idea of trans people hard to swallow because of their social indoctrination doesn’t mean that children will. And if the concept doesn’t take? As Rough says, “children only take in what they’re ready for.”
> This book is EXTREMELY Eurocentric. Maybe being bothered by this is on me for choosing a book that is specifically focused on the Dutch approach of sex-ed, but I was taken aback by HOW much. There are continuous suggestions that the "European method" is the superior, and the argument that sex-ed should become more "European than Puritanical." I get the idea here --sex-ed needs to be freer, not more conservative-- but the Puritan ideology emerged FROM Europe. Other than a brief acknowledgement that the Dutch method isn't perfect, there are no discussions of its shortcomings or alternatives, or acknowledgement of issues within Dutch culture. In fact, her portrayal of the Dutch culture is one of an ideal, egalitarian society. Perfect. However, the Netherlands is far from this: more than a quarter of Dutch citizens report experiencing racial prejudice in the 2020 National Report of Experienced Racism. Where racism lies, other oppressive systemic realities proliferate too. This alone necessitates a close examination, and questioning, of the emergent Dutch sex-ed methods: questions that come to mind for me are, which students are these working for? Are the statistics Rough references only taken from the experiences of white children? What are students of varied backgrounds/identities saying about these methods, and how they are taught? Also speaking of the "American method" as a monolith and using "we" to discuss the ways that children are introduced to a culture of sex that is much more shame-based and secretive danced around the issue for me: firstly, Rough speaks as if everyone has experienced the same issues and has the same concerns in raising their children, which is untrue. Secondly, the issue that Rough identifies is one that directly stems from oppressive power structures, white supremacy being capital: the ideas of sexual purity, over-sexualization, and "preserving childrens' innocence" all harken back to colonial ideals. Although this is not her area of expertise (and because of that it, again, would have been very helpful to have hired a consultant, or co-wrote the book with someone who does), I think there was significance missed by failing to at the very least acknowledge that all women do not experience the world under ONLY the male gaze -- the way that she spoke of raising assertive and liberated daughters was very White Feminist. Some peoples' daughters need to also navigate their sexuality within misogynoir, sinophobia, transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, religious discrimination, and countless other forms of oppression. I don't think just avoiding this reality was the way to go. In addition, there are realities existing alongside a lack of comprehensive sexual education curriculum that contribute to statistics she references. For instance, in terms of unwanted teen birth rates and teen STI rates, low income background is a defining factor. Also, intersecting/paralleling to this, systemic racism creates disparities in this issue as in every other. Addressing the issue of sex-ed to serve the white, wealthy student, from a white perspective, does not help those most impacted by it (Makes me think of the Seattle conversation curricula about puberty that Rough mentioned. It is $$$, outside of school, and serves majority white suburban populations. How much good is this program doing if it isn't expanded to be remotely accessible? Just giving another tool to students that have access to the most already). In general: this is all not something that one author can cover -- an acknowledgement/discussion of this by voices other than hers would have strengthened the book's exploration.
All of this weakened the book significantly, and made me wonder just HOW Rough could have gone through so many leagues of research and still ended with a result so entrenched in her own perspective. To be clear, I recognize the benefits to writing from one's own perspective, and appreciate the slice-of-life elements in this book, but especially in a work of nonfiction strongly believe they must be balanced with facets of the topic that intersect beyond oneself. There are brief interactions mentioned, but those are mostly populated by her surprise at what's happening in the classrooms disrupting her preconceived notions about specific communities, such as Muslim families and Catholic, Republican Latinx families. I'm left wishing for much more perspective in the way that sex-ed issues are being discussed. A lot of this writing can feel inextricably hedged in Rough's perspective on what is revolutionary and NEW as a white, straight, cisgender, middle/upper middle class woman. I think it would have been much more successful if co-written with other researchers (and/or mothers) of varying backgrounds/identities to add nuance to the discussion.
As another commenter said, this book also has a strange promotion of monogamy and discouragement of "promiscuity," which, as they mentioned, seemed antithetical to the entire message. I was jarred by one reason to support teen sexuality as a family: "to help (...) kids avoid promiscuity and practice respectful monogamy," going on to talk about the necessity of courtship in monogamy and integrating that into the family unit. That term "promiscuious" emerged from societal judgement over (women, specifically) having multiple sexual partners. If the goal is to encourage healthy exploration of autonomy, bodies, and sexuality, putting a boundary of monogamy upon that, and shaming teens for exploring outside of that seems, again, antithetical. Not everyone has the same desires for number of partners and/or a presence of courtship in their sexual encounters. I think Rough let her own biases impede her main argument here: youth need to be supported unconditionally in their explorations.
My conclusion: I appreciate the level of research that went into this book, and the vulnerability that Rough shares with readers. Ultimately, I'd say it is a read for those who know and accept upfront that they are going to see the issue of sex-ed only through Rough's (limited) eyes throughout the book, are willing to wade through that to maybe pull out some actionable items, and will seek out additional sources. And as a bonus: a built-in lesson on microagressions. ;-)
Rough is clearly passionate about this topic and committed to research; I appreciated the PAGES and PAGES of easily referenceable research in the appendix. And integrations of her personal experiences as a mother and member of both American and Dutch social circles, while not necessarily resonant with me on some levels, gave interesting perspective into where she as an author is coming from, and the ways in which the issues of "sex, love, and equality" intersected with her personal life. I appreciated her candidness in discussing her own journey as a parent confronting the way she was raised, and the ideas she had been indoctrinated into surrounding sex and love, and ultimately: the stumbles in finding a different path for her own children. For my own work, I especially valued the parental perspective. As mentioned by other reviewers, I found some of the ultra-specific solutions to issues I anticipate encountering very helpful: such as how to address kids "playing doctor": okay as long as these guidelines are met; everyone must want to play, nothing will go in orifices, and boundaries must always be respected. To not frame diaper moments as gross, or dirty, but everyday bodily functions (refer to diapers only as "full" or "empty") so as not to instill bodily shame in the children accidentally. Among many others, which I will remember and reference at work. These points of the book are engaging and thoughtful.
However. There were some points where this book did not do it for me.
Firstly, as committed to the research process as Rough is, and seeking input for the development of her writings (interviewing people, etc), she was not similarly committed to employing consultants for her work. Specifically, trans consultants and consultants of color. There were many bits in this book that were just disappointing to read.
> She makes an effort to be inclusive of trans identities, but makes many easily fixable mistakes such as "adolescents with female reproductive organs" -- Rough is clearly making an attempt to include nonbinary and trans people with this type of language, but misses the mark totally. Calling a reference to her first few chapters: naming anatomy is important. There's no need to be scared of it. Just say "adolescents with uteruses and/or vaginas." Or, if you don't want to reference anatomy Directly, but still be respectful to trans people: "adolescents assigned female at birth." That's only one example, but there. Options. Honestly, it wouldn't be so irritating if she didn't turn around to then state some truths about the trans experience, such as the idea that not every child born into a binary gender ends up identifying that way. There are just a proliferation of microagressions in the midst of liberal framework. This also concerns me because I think a non-trans reader may get the impression that the harmful phraseology she uses is okay to use themselves, due to that liberal surround. Also, I found it strange that she supported the idea that preschoolers are not ready to learn the difference between sex and gender, and that it is effective to teach their interchangeability, only correcting the mistake years later in schooling. Children thrive off concepts that build off of each other. Telling a young student something and then later saying that it’s “more complicated” only affirms that the previous idea was essentially true, just basic. In the case of equating gender and sex, it’s a lie. Just because some adults find the idea of trans people hard to swallow because of their social indoctrination doesn’t mean that children will. And if the concept doesn’t take? As Rough says, “children only take in what they’re ready for.”
> This book is EXTREMELY Eurocentric. Maybe being bothered by this is on me for choosing a book that is specifically focused on the Dutch approach of sex-ed, but I was taken aback by HOW much. There are continuous suggestions that the "European method" is the superior, and the argument that sex-ed should become more "European than Puritanical." I get the idea here --sex-ed needs to be freer, not more conservative-- but the Puritan ideology emerged FROM Europe. Other than a brief acknowledgement that the Dutch method isn't perfect, there are no discussions of its shortcomings or alternatives, or acknowledgement of issues within Dutch culture. In fact, her portrayal of the Dutch culture is one of an ideal, egalitarian society. Perfect. However, the Netherlands is far from this: more than a quarter of Dutch citizens report experiencing racial prejudice in the 2020 National Report of Experienced Racism. Where racism lies, other oppressive systemic realities proliferate too. This alone necessitates a close examination, and questioning, of the emergent Dutch sex-ed methods: questions that come to mind for me are, which students are these working for? Are the statistics Rough references only taken from the experiences of white children? What are students of varied backgrounds/identities saying about these methods, and how they are taught? Also speaking of the "American method" as a monolith and using "we" to discuss the ways that children are introduced to a culture of sex that is much more shame-based and secretive danced around the issue for me: firstly, Rough speaks as if everyone has experienced the same issues and has the same concerns in raising their children, which is untrue. Secondly, the issue that Rough identifies is one that directly stems from oppressive power structures, white supremacy being capital: the ideas of sexual purity, over-sexualization, and "preserving childrens' innocence" all harken back to colonial ideals. Although this is not her area of expertise (and because of that it, again, would have been very helpful to have hired a consultant, or co-wrote the book with someone who does), I think there was significance missed by failing to at the very least acknowledge that all women do not experience the world under ONLY the male gaze -- the way that she spoke of raising assertive and liberated daughters was very White Feminist. Some peoples' daughters need to also navigate their sexuality within misogynoir, sinophobia, transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, religious discrimination, and countless other forms of oppression. I don't think just avoiding this reality was the way to go. In addition, there are realities existing alongside a lack of comprehensive sexual education curriculum that contribute to statistics she references. For instance, in terms of unwanted teen birth rates and teen STI rates, low income background is a defining factor. Also, intersecting/paralleling to this, systemic racism creates disparities in this issue as in every other. Addressing the issue of sex-ed to serve the white, wealthy student, from a white perspective, does not help those most impacted by it (Makes me think of the Seattle conversation curricula about puberty that Rough mentioned. It is $$$, outside of school, and serves majority white suburban populations. How much good is this program doing if it isn't expanded to be remotely accessible? Just giving another tool to students that have access to the most already). In general: this is all not something that one author can cover -- an acknowledgement/discussion of this by voices other than hers would have strengthened the book's exploration.
All of this weakened the book significantly, and made me wonder just HOW Rough could have gone through so many leagues of research and still ended with a result so entrenched in her own perspective. To be clear, I recognize the benefits to writing from one's own perspective, and appreciate the slice-of-life elements in this book, but especially in a work of nonfiction strongly believe they must be balanced with facets of the topic that intersect beyond oneself. There are brief interactions mentioned, but those are mostly populated by her surprise at what's happening in the classrooms disrupting her preconceived notions about specific communities, such as Muslim families and Catholic, Republican Latinx families. I'm left wishing for much more perspective in the way that sex-ed issues are being discussed. A lot of this writing can feel inextricably hedged in Rough's perspective on what is revolutionary and NEW as a white, straight, cisgender, middle/upper middle class woman. I think it would have been much more successful if co-written with other researchers (and/or mothers) of varying backgrounds/identities to add nuance to the discussion.
As another commenter said, this book also has a strange promotion of monogamy and discouragement of "promiscuity," which, as they mentioned, seemed antithetical to the entire message. I was jarred by one reason to support teen sexuality as a family: "to help (...) kids avoid promiscuity and practice respectful monogamy," going on to talk about the necessity of courtship in monogamy and integrating that into the family unit. That term "promiscuious" emerged from societal judgement over (women, specifically) having multiple sexual partners. If the goal is to encourage healthy exploration of autonomy, bodies, and sexuality, putting a boundary of monogamy upon that, and shaming teens for exploring outside of that seems, again, antithetical. Not everyone has the same desires for number of partners and/or a presence of courtship in their sexual encounters. I think Rough let her own biases impede her main argument here: youth need to be supported unconditionally in their explorations.
My conclusion: I appreciate the level of research that went into this book, and the vulnerability that Rough shares with readers. Ultimately, I'd say it is a read for those who know and accept upfront that they are going to see the issue of sex-ed only through Rough's (limited) eyes throughout the book, are willing to wade through that to maybe pull out some actionable items, and will seek out additional sources. And as a bonus: a built-in lesson on microagressions. ;-)