Sex Ed.

It was a time in life that every boy either looked forward to or shuddered to think he must be a part of. It was a freshman class in high school that every boy had to participate in to graduate. It was a required class, and girls were not allowed. They called it Boys’ Health and, Sex Ed.

It was a class obviously considered by the Superintendent of Bellingham schools to be so racy that it was not allowed to be taught in the main building. Like the dark sleazy strip clubs zoned to the tavern and nightclub areas of Vancouver and Seattle, Boys’ Health was taught in a portable annex building parked at the east side of the Bellingham High School, somewhere between the field hockey and the quarter mile track.

Mr. Bill Ward was assigned to teach the classes, possibly because he drew the shortest straw. He was a nice man and not too scary to 15-year-old boys. He also taught driver’s ed. and was a freshman football coach. His claim to fame was that at one time he played professional football for the Washington Redskins and the Detroit Lions.

I think that everyone who had a class with Mr. Ward also had a story about him, either about his unusual speech pattern or about the unconscious distractions he would use when he was bored. At one point, while playing an LP record for the class, he placed a pencil on the center of the record and watched it spin for the half hour it played.

My best friend Chuck followed me out of the main school building heading toward the annex.

“Did your mom fill out the paper?” he asked.

“To get out of the sex movie today? No, I didn’t show it to her.”

“Me neither!” Chuck said. “I’m not missing out on the good stuff.”

Twenty-five, pimply faced, fifteen-year-old boys filed into the small portable building. Most of us were uncomfortable. Some were trying to cover their uneasiness by telling jokes. Chuck eventually asked me to knock it off.

In the center of the room, a 16-millimeter projector with a large reel of film sat on a cart. Mr. Ward stood at the front of the room by the screen. He had an unusual smirk on his face. He must have sensed the nervousness in the boys.

“Ok, take your seat. As part of the curriculum required by the State of Washington, today we are going to show the movie on sex. Please hold your questions until after the movie and even then, do not ask them. Those of you who have notes from your mothers may now leave to sit in study hall.”

Only two boys got up to leave and the snickers and vile comments caused them to sit back down.

“Now,” Mr. Ward continued, “Perhaps you have heard about this movie. We seem to have our best attendance on this day each quarter. The girls in their health class will watch the same one. There is a reason that we do not combine the two groups. If you are curious why we don’t, please ask the girls health teacher.”

“As you will see, the movie is true to life and in spots, graphic. But this is what it is all about. Your parents didn’t have a movie like this to watch. Nevertheless, you are sitting here now so something must have worked right. Now, I only have one rule for the next forty-five minutes: shut up and watch. No noises!”

With that, he turned off the overhead lights and flicked on the projector. For the next fifteen minutes the room was deathly quiet except for the uneasy switching of positions in our chairs. Not unlike sitting through a horror movie in the theater, all eyes were now as big as saucer plates, nerves were on edge and breathing was becoming erratic. Then, at approximately the twenty-minute mark (a point in the film I’m sure Mr. Ward knew all too well) something was shown on the screen which, like the masked movie murderer jumping out from behind a curtain, caused twenty-five hormonally challenged boys to gasp at the same time. I am sure that in the darkness, the teacher grinned.

No less than thirty seconds later a crashing sound broke the silence of the classroom.

“What was that?” Mr. Ward yelled. “Somebody flip on the lights!”

The light switch was found and turned on. There on the floor by his desk, a boy lay motionless.

Mr. Ward grabbed the phone receiver off his desk.

“Man down! I’ve got a man down!” he shouted.

He rolled the student onto his back and began prepping for CPR as the class stood watching. Upon opening the boy’s mouth to check his airway, it was found that the excitement of the movie caused the lad to suck his teeth retainer into the back of his throat blocking his airway. I don’t know how he did it, but Mr. Ward reached into the student’s mouth and pulled the retainer out. Immediately, the student started breathing on his own.

Bill Ward was now a hero, and a professional football player.

It can be said, that for most of the 15-year-old boys in that class, the two most exciting things in our freshman year happened on that day during Sex Ed.

As for the remaining twenty minutes of the movie, Mr. Ward gave us the option, “Ok, we’ve had enough excitement for the day. We can call the class over, or we can finish the movie.”

It took less than 10 seconds for the seats to be filled and the lights switched off.

Faith Family Life Getting Older Growing Up Misadventures Music Patriotism Pets or Pests? Snips Tributes