I used to go to public school, where there was never much talk about sexuality or reproductive health. It was mostly studying and having fun with friends. The jokes and fun popped into my mind a whole lot more than most things; politics and sex ed included. Not only did I not know how to be an advocate for issues that I care about, I also wasn’t taught what it meant to be one.

For their own reasons, my parents moved me to a private school. At first, most things seemed the same; I met nice people, and we all had fun. When the topic of sex and sex education would come up, I usually reverted to silence or would quickly try to change the subject. I anticipated my sex ed class as I was approaching high school. Weeks into the class, I understood that things weren’t what I thought they were and more importantly, I had misunderstood myself. Our teacher was bold, honest, and extremely dedicated. We would learn the details of reproductive health, everything from putting condoms on cucumbers to listening to our teacher share the story of her good high school friend dying from AIDS. It was, in short, an eye-opening experience, maybe the biggest of my life. It was so valuable to me and my peers that we decided to become assistants for the teacher. We would, in our junior year, mentor and advise incoming freshmen on a very important aspect of life. I am still learning; I am starting to understand that my experience wasn’t only unusual, but it was a privilege. It’s starting to really haunt me that my education isn’t universal.

The way I was taught about sex and sexual health is being challenged by politicians and the money behind them. It’s hard to come to terms with the idea that some of my dearest friends aren’t lucky enough to hear the truth because they go to a different schools. Statistically, my friends are less likely to gain higher education, more likely to live in poverty, and more likely to have a child before they are ready because they weren’t given the right tools. Everyone in my community, myself included, has the knowledge, and therefore the duty, of stopping policy changes that will limit others’ ability to get this education.