The bell rang and with a rush of high pitched giggles and the musk of an eighth grade boys’ locker room, they made their way into class.
From the back I heard, “Yes! We have a substitute today”, in whispered excitement. Poor guy had no idea that statement alone made him a target of my constant, watchful eye. His name made it on my list before the hour was over.
After getting the class settled and clear on their assignment I made myself comfortable at the teacher’s desk reviewing papers from the previous period.
I allowed them to work in groups and made it clear that as long as they were working, I didn’t mind if they talked quietly.
The table to my immediate left took me quiet literally and while I wanted to shush them several times they were constantly working. Honestly, even if they hadn’t been working I’m not sure I would have made them be quiet strictly out of morbid curiosity.
Is there anything they wouldn’t talk about with the teacher sitting not five feet away?
Obviously not!
At the table were five students, one of which made it clear she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her with a fiery passion. After a while she started to blend into the background which is, I assume, exactly what she wanted.
Sitting to her left was a girl who looked like she thought she had it all together. “Long Denim Skirt Girl” is how I affectionately thought of her for the duration of the class since that is what she was wearing, paired with a pink polo shirt that had every one of its buttons done up. She gave the other three at the table a cursory glance every now and then but mainly she focused all her attention on the assignment.
Andrew was the only boy sitting at the table and also the only one whose name I caught because the two girls who have yet to be described said it constantly…”Oh, Andrew. Stop it, Andrew! Don’t cheat off my paper, Andrew.” Think cocky, vulnerable, jock, who has daddy issues and a killer smile and you have Andrew. My heart hurt for him before I even got to know him.
Cheerleader One and Cheerleader Two were next. The blonde was the closest to Andrew and the pretty brunette was obviously envious. But wait ladies, Andrew just referred to his girlfriend…
“Why don’t you bring her to church with you this Wednesday”, asked Cheerleader Two.
“Y’all know I’m not coming to church with you no matter how many times you invite me, right”, answered Andrew.
This got Long Denim Skirt Girl’s attention.
“Why not,” asked Cheerleader One.
“I don’t like church because I don’t feel comfortable there. Anyway, Jesus doesn’t like me because of what I’ve done in my past.”
He was in the eighth grade! How sordid could his past be, for crying out loud?
Both cheerleaders and Long Denim Skirt Girl refuted this of course. I was starting to like these girls and I found myself paying less attention to the papers I was reviewing and more attention to what they would say next as they basically shared Jesus with their friend. Very quickly I saw whose motives were pure and whose were not.
The next thing I heard come out of Andrew’s mouth was about the last time he’d had sex with his girlfriend.
I wanted to throw up.
The girl who was steadily digging her way to China looked up startled but quickly went back to being invisible.
Long Denim Skirt Girl said, “Andrew, I’m going to pray for you”, and let me tell you, she meant it.
Cheerleader One and Cheerleader Two giggled and looked fascinated, totally buying into his charms.
In response to Long Denim Skirt Girl, Andrew said, “You don’t have to pray for me. I’m Catholic. Not a practicing Catholic, of course, but I believe in God.”
Cheerleader Two seemed to remember something and quickly said, “Since you believe in God you should totally come to church with us. We have a lot of fun. Sometimes we don’t even talk about God at all!”
I couldn’t believe how bad this was getting.
“Listen, I’m not going to church with you. Y’all hated me for the longest time but you finally got over it. So will everyone else. I like having sex too much to go to church. Seriously, it’s so good that if there were no girls in the world and I knew there were none coming, I’d go gay.”
Long Denim Skirt Girl looked like she was going to burst.
While Cheerleader One and Two were flirting their way into conversation with Andrew, Long Denim Skirt Girl only wanted to tell him about Jesus.
“You know, Jesus loves you no matter what you do”, she said.
Score one for the sweet little Long Denim Skirt Girl!
Ignoring her, Cheerleader One asked him if he loved his girlfriend. He turned beet red and with emotion in his voice he said, “I’m not talking to you guys about that. It’s personal!”
I was taken aback…more personal than the information he shared with them about the last time they had sex? What on earth?
It was at this time Andrew noticed me. Probably because I was staring at him, having decided this conversation had gone on long enough.
“Dude, the teacher can totally hear us”, he informed the girls.
Immediately eyes went down to their papers and pencils began firing across their assignment.
Things were relatively quiet for the rest of the period which lent me the opportunity to process.
When I was in the eighth grade there was only one girl I knew having sex and a couple more who I knew had some heavy petting experiences. We talked about it but it hushed whispers away from any form of authority.
What are our children being exposed to that it is nothing to just have a conversation about sex around the table in the middle of class? I didn’t like the answer I came to and how I am responsible for part of the exposure by allowing myself to be exposed as well.
When I was in the eighth grade I went to church about three times a week. I was a part of the leadership team of my youth group and I was always inviting my friends to come with me.
What has happened to the Body of Christ that a 14 year-old boy doesn’t feel comfortable in a church? How we have failed if the heart of a 14 year-old boy truly believes that Jesus does not like him because of the things he has done in his past or even for the things he is doing in his present for that matter.
I watched him for the rest of the period and my heart broke.
How do we teach our daughters to guard their hearts?
How do we teach our sons that a woman’s heart is worthy of their protection?
How do we teach our daughters that her mystery is one of the ways she uniquely bears God’s image as a female?
How do we teach our sons that being a man of integrity and Godly character is more valuable than how many notches they have in their bedpost?
We have to model it. We have to believe it ourselves. We have to be above reproach. We have to be honest about the times we have failed.
The bell rang and with a rush of high pitched giggles and the musk of an eighth grade boys’ locker room, they made their way out of class.
“Andrew,” I called before he could get away. “Can I see you for a second?”
He was embarrassed, his face turning red as he made his way to where I stood.
“You’re not in trouble,” I stated up front, trying to put him at ease. “However, I do want to encourage you to keep what is private to yourself. You dishonored your girlfriend today by sharing what you did and she deserves more than that…so do you.”
The humiliation was setting inside of him deeply so I needed to wrap up quickly. Did I dare say what I had to say next?
If he told anyone I would lose my job for sure.
“That’s all. You can go.”
Deep breath. Jump.
“Oh, and Andrew, Jesus really does love you no matter what you do.”
Difficultly Glorious 