By: Emily Baker
When I was in elementary school, I spent a full year in a panic, convinced I might be pregnant simply because a boy had glimpsed my underwear, and a friend claimed that was how babies were made. That wild misconception has shaped how I educate my own children about sex. Since they were in preschool, my kids have understood the basics: boys have penises, not “wee-wees,” and girls have vaginas, not “front-butts.” They’ve learned that babies come from a penis entering a vagina—not from a 10-year-old stealing a peek at your panties.
I took pride in raising kids with a well-rounded understanding of anatomy, certain I was equipping them with the knowledge they needed before they could be misled by their peers. That confidence took a hit during our recent trip to the NEMO Science Museum in Amsterdam.
This summer, I brought my kids to the museum for a much-needed break after countless days filled with cultural sites and historical landmarks. We spent hours engaging with interactive science exhibits and trying to create the largest bubble imaginable. As we wrapped up our visit, we headed to the fourth floor, which had a section dedicated to “Humania.”
Upon reaching the top of the stairs, even as a progressive mom, I was taken aback by what lay before me. To my left, a large illuminated sign proclaimed “Teen Facts” and “Let’s Talk About Sex,” while to my right featured another sign of the same name, adorned with a provocative black-and-white image of a couple seemingly engaged in more than mere conversation.
As I turned around, I found my 8-year-old son engrossed in the “French Kiss” exhibit, attempting to maneuver a giant tongue. He quickly lost interest, declaring that “kissing is gross.”
The displays were surprising but not outlandishly scandalous—more akin to what kids might see on magazine covers at grocery stores. But then, I noticed something in the corner that compelled me to share my experience on social media.
In a brightly lit red display cabinet, I spotted an array of wooden figures posed in various sexual positions, resembling faceless, hairless dolls—like something IKEA might produce for adults. I questioned whether we had accidentally wandered into Amsterdam’s Red Light District. Should we have been carded to enter this area?
While I wasn’t sure if my son should be there, we didn’t venture into the guarded section that showcased these wooden figures further. If we had, I would have discovered a peep show nearby, which I’m now curious to revisit. According to the museum’s description, the peep show offers a discreet opportunity to learn about sex and sexuality without judgemental onlookers.
This open approach to sex education can be shocking to some Americans, who may assume it leads to a rise in unwanted pregnancies. Quite the opposite is true. As highlighted in Peggy Orenstein’s LA Times article, “Worried About Your Teenage Daughter? Move to the Netherlands,” the Netherlands boasts one of the lowest teen pregnancy rates in the industrialized world—eight times lower than that of the U.S.
Orenstein notes that the Dutch shifted their sex education approach only in the last two decades, moving from a model similar to the U.S. today. By the 1990s, while American schools were pouring resources into abstinence-only programs, Dutch educators were embracing discussions about sex, relationships, anatomy, contraception, and respect for self and others.
In the U.S., sex education remains a contentious topic, often considered taboo, with many believing that providing information will lead to promiscuity. In contrast, evidence shows that knowledge promotes safety. For parents like me who want a more progressive approach to sex education in schools, it’s crucial to know what is being taught and how we can advocate for better programs.
Through my research, I discovered a useful resource that provides state-specific sex education laws and insights into school district policies. They even offer a toolkit to help parents navigate discussions about these topics with their children. The goal is clear: I want my kids equipped with the information they need to stay safe and healthy throughout their lives.
Take it from someone who once thought a glimpse of underwear could lead to pregnancy: knowledge truly makes a difference.
Summary
A trip to the NEMO Science Museum in Amsterdam opened the author’s eyes to the stark contrast in sex education approaches between the U.S. and the Netherlands. While American parents often fear that open discussions about sex lead to promiscuity, Dutch children benefit from comprehensive education that reportedly reduces teen pregnancy rates. The author emphasizes the importance of equipping children with knowledge for their safety and well-being.