Puberty Workshops

“What’s an erection?” the fifth grade student asked. As I stood at the front of the class, I questioned, again, my decision to become a puberty workshop facilitator. It certainly hadn’t been long since I had woken up bleary-eyed for school one morning, red pimples scattered about my forehead. Frozen, I reflected on the questions that got me here, and how I could answer in a way that best served the young men waiting for my response.

“Would you like to volunteer as a facilitator for the puberty workshops I conduct at local elementary schools?” Recollecting the wide-ranging discussion led by a visiting sex-ed teacher, I felt an appreciation for the frank discussion of taboo topics I would soon navigate. Still in the midst of handling the changes I had gone through as a middle and high schooler myself, I doubted whether I was qualified. Similarly, during my internship at Imagine Housing, a low-income housing community in Issaquah, Washington, I’d struggled to feel qualified to help the residents. I’d soon realized, however, that I could use my own experience as a place to start: I launched a tutoring program called “Summer Bridge” for students needing extra support in their academics. In my new role as a puberty workshop co-facilitator, I embraced the fact that my best qualification was my own experience going through puberty.

“Why on earth did you sign up for this?” While my parents understood the value of giving back to our community, doing so through puberty workshops still baffled them. As an 8th grader, many of my friends towered over my wiry frame and I began to lose my self-esteem. Guidance from an elder during this time would have boosted my self-confidence. Knowing that, I seek out opportunities to mentor youth. As an instructor with Chess4Life, I model sportsmanship and a growth mindset, reminding students that a loss is a chance to learn from their mistakes. Leading the workshop was my chance to play a mentoring role for future young men: destigmatizing the experience of puberty, letting them know they aren’t alone, and that what they are going through is normal.

“When will I start to get big muscles?” I had so far avoided uncomfortable topics like body image and masculinity, but upon hearing this question from one of my students, I used it as an opening for an authentic conversation about physical appearance and self worth. I have worked towards facing difficult conversations head-on. Freshman year, I’d struggled through bouts of anxiety surrounding my academic work that affected my school and social life. I was determined to independently confront this challenge, but eventually I accepted I needed help and reached out to my parents and school counselor. Through them, I gained daily outlets of encouragement and brainstormed productive thought exercises that helped me manage my mindset. Just as I had opened up about my personal struggle, I owed it to my students to model how to deal with such challenging conversations directly.

“What is an erection?” Reflecting on what had gotten me to this moment, I knew what to do. I began with a straightforward definition but recognized the necessity of addressing the realities and experiences these boys were going through. I asked them to imagine a hypothetical situation in which they had an erection during class. By shifting away from lecturing and opening up the floor to discussion, I moved beyond feeding them facts and into tackling their underlying anxieties. I closed, telling them, “Being self-conscious about erections and how to deal with them is universal”. Ending on an inclusive note reinforced my biggest intended take-away: this process is normal and they should not feel shame in discussing it.

Moving forward, I will seek the truth on matters that are clouded by assumptions and stigma. I will embrace uncomfortable situations with confidence. After all, it cannot get much more awkward than puberty class.