America is not impressed. Teens are having sex, and MTV is doing f***all to discourage them. As if showing Miley Cyrus’s videos on an hourly rotation isn’t abominable enough (AOL has voted her the worst celebrity influence for the second year in a row – why such a poll was considered necessary, or how Taylor Momsen slipped through the net who knows), the channel is currently airing a brand-new US version of Skins, the cult UK TV show thanks to which youngsters all over Britain have been snorting cocaine and having barely legal lesbian sex after and (more likely) during school hours since 2007. American parents, advertisers and activists are protesting, claiming that the show exhibits child pornography and violates legal requirements to protect young viewers and the teen actors themselves.
In one sense, I sympathise. I feel like I can’t switch the TV on these days without catching a glimpse of sexually hyperbolic children. During last Wednesday’s episode of The Joy of Teen Sex the nation was treated to one youngster’s cringetastic first attempt to ‘go down’ on his girlfriend having just overcome his chronic fear of vaginas. Cue applause from the cameramen?
Now it’s not that long since I was a teen (those who saw my last column will know I cling to youth with a desperation to rival Dorian Gray). However, as a mildly antisocial specimen I wasn’t privy to what one might call the full spectrum of experience early on. I wasn’t (quite) a complete dork, but I was nevertheless more an Inbetweener than an Effy (see below – notorious and sorely missed UK Skins character seasons one through four – I will cool off the TV references soon I promise). When a friend recently told me that he “was getting head in year eight at the school disco, and was one of the later ones,” I was taken aback. I have a brother in year eight, perhaps why I found this particularly disturbing.
Left-right: Freddie, Effy, Cook and Panda- UK Skins gang seasons three and four
I remember a definite ‘awakening’ occurring during my mid-teens however. For example, I recall a year nine English lesson during which a friend and I compared what we’d done over the weekend. I had written an essay, ironically on Romeo and Juliet – an early parable about the potential hazards of teen sex. She’d given her boyfriend a blowjob during Shrek at the cinema. “WHY???” I gawped. “He wanted one,” she shrugged.
Obviously there had been various infamous events: “I heard she had an abortion when she was 12,” “they had sex on the beach during the year nine Isle Of Wight trip and TEACHERS FOUND THEM,” and house parties were, by year ten, synonymous with all manner of sexual hijinks. Still, I wasn’t quite prepared for this revelation from a hitherto very shy and retiring girl. But it was not an outrageously outlandish example, and rightly or wrongly, a good proportion of my year had swapped fluids by via one means or another by the time they sat their GCSES.
More recently, I was chatting with a 14-year-old girl when the question of BOYS came up. Ah, I thought, a chance to share the wisdom of years, perhaps help my young friend avoid some of the pitfalls into which I in my naïve youth had fallen. What was the problem, I asked? “Well my last boyfriend dumped me because I wouldn’t give him a blow job. It was kind of unfair, as I had ‘received’, but wasn’t ‘giving’, yano? I mean I’m not at all what you would call frigid, but I just didn’t fancy it. Also the guy I like smokes, and I used to LOADS but I quit a year ago and I really don’t want to start again, and I’m worried if I go out with him I will.”
I took a deep breath. Then I told her as tactfully as possible that her ex was an asshole she was best shot of, and that perhaps she might prove a healthy influence on the new guy and get him to quit smoking. The admittedly tenuous point is that the decisions and attitude she expressed to me in no way mirrored what she had seen on the box the previous night (she likes QI). Furthermore, she rightly stopped when she felt uncomfortable, and this can probably be attributed to her own resolve rather than abstinence from inappropriate television.
The argument I’m havng a semi-arsed attempt at making is that teens are going to have sex whether their parents like it or not. At least some of them. We should accept this, and as they say in The Joy of Teen Sex, the main thing is that it is safe and consensual. Though Skins might be amplifying the fantasies of the Inbetweeners crowd more aggressively than Glee (I lied about the reference thing), if parents are to complain, I’d argue that the smoking/narcotics-related element of proceedings is more worthy of their energy. I personally found the total departure from any attempt at a cohesive or engaging plot in last week’s episode infinitely more offensive than the frequent references to f***ing.
Obviously the second my brother goes anywhere near a girl with the intention of touching anything other than her hand I’ll be whacking a chastity belt on him faster than he can say ‘hypocrite’.