The sex talk. For some people, having that awkward conversation about the birds and the bees was unfortunately inevitable. Others had a sexual health unit in high school where they were forced to watch the fever-dreamish “The Great Sperm Race,” in which thousands of people pretending to be sperm ran around on screen. Regardless of where, when or how, learning about sexual education is a standard in most parts of the United States. 

Or at least, that’s what I assumed until I came to college. 

I recently took USC’s mandatory “Trojans Respect Consent” course. As I sat tiredly in my pajamas, providing generic answers to questions about how to invite Angel to hook up at 8:30 p.m., I felt slightly ridiculous. I considered most of the scenarios and answers to be obvious. Of course, consent was important. And obviously, saying no was completely within a person’s right.

But as I watched jokey comments pop up in the Zoom chat about using Clash Royale to reassure someone who no longer felt comfortable or writing unserious responses to questions about consent, I was more annoyed about my peers not taking sexual education seriously than I was over waking up at 9 a.m. 

In my experience, sex hasn’t ever really been a topic to shy away from. I cackled as Benny (Benito Skinner) and Carmen (Wally Baram) awkwardly tried to lose their virginities in the worst way possible in “Overcompensating,” while my roommates watched on in horror. I’ve publicly shared my opinions about the taboos of queer sex in the media. I’m never grossed out when a friend wants to share something “T.M.I.” 

A large contributor to my open-mindedness was growing up in California. I’m very lucky to live in a state that prioritizes adolescent sexual health. Because of the California Healthy Youth Act, school districts are required to provide students from grades seven through 12 with comprehensive, accurate and inclusive sexual health and HIV prevention education. 

Despite this, I still know Californians who did not know crucial aspects of sex education until they were nearly adults or who had curiously Googled it when they were a tween. There’s a kind of shame that accompanies conversations about sex or any curiosity towards it — some people might’ve learned about it through reading Wattpad or watching television, while others turned to pornography, all of which can be grossly exaggerated and misleading.  

The media often portrays adolescents as being either hypersexual or completely abstinent, which can both be true but should not be treated as a binary choice. When sexual education is scarce, these stereotypes seep into the real-life decisions young people are making about their own sexual health as well as the behaviors of their peers. A person’s sex life isn’t either “Euphoria” or the nunnery. 

We shouldn’t let taboos about sex prevent us from talking about it. If we fail to normalize conversations about sexual education, we risk placing young people in dangerous situations. 

Forty-two states require sexual education in at least one content area — such as sexual abstinence and HIV — but only 19 require it to be medically accurate, and few require education to go beyond the basics, according to a study from the American Journal of Public Health. 

Additionally, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, half of reported sexually transmitted infections were among young people. Politics and cultural taboos also play a large part in the type of sexual education young people receive, with propaganda about promiscuity and abstinence remaining a constant. 

Florida’s recent “Stop the Sexualization of Children Act” — colloquially referred to as the “Don’t Say Gay” bill — prohibits the usage of Federal funds to develop “sexually-oriented program[s].” Policies like these impact the sexual education that adolescents need by reinforcing the taboos and shame surrounding sexual behaviors. 

Separate from any political, social or religious opinions, the need for better education is a fact. For something that is simply a biological process, sex is given closed-door treatment when, really, it should be talked about as casually as a common cold. Young people are being blindsided by the negligence of those too afraid to discuss something human.

Modern shows like “Overcompensating” or “Sex Education” are pushing for more representations of sex, showing the good, the bad and the ugly. However, it isn’t enough to just portray it in popular media, which is unlikely to be watched by more conservative audiences. It needs to be changed from the source, in schools, where it should be mandatory, accurate and thorough.    

Like I stated in a previous article, being uncomfortable with or uninterested in sex doesn’t make you a prude, just like being drawn to it doesn’t make you a pervert. But sex education must be normalized for individuals to at least have a say in what they want or do not want to talk about while still being educated. Having conversations about sex isn’t what’s causing harm — silence is.