School Clinics Can Augment Parents’ Role

Have we forgotten what it is like to be a teen-ager and exist in a world of doubt, euphoria, depression, silliness and constant worry?

She was the kind of friend your parents were delighted to have you bring home. She was president of the student council, a tennis player, a good student, loved Johnny Mathis and the Supremes, was a mediocre clarinet player, went to church every Sunday and holy day, dated a bright and handsome senior and had the most beautiful brown eyes and laughing smile . . . and then she became pregnant.

College plans were delayed, and she went away to have her baby--holding it only once before she relinquished it for adoption. Life was never quite the same for the girl with the brown eyes and the laughing smile.

Today, the San Diego Unified School District is considering the development of school-based health-care centers. These centers would be staffed by professionals who, depending on the program adopted by the district, could provide physical examinations, immunizations, counseling and birth control information and devices. A committee of 29 citizens has been chosen from the business, educational, health and religious community to listen to the public’s opinions, examine the needs of this community, study similar programs in other school districts, set up goals and objectives, and make a recommendation to the school board by July 1.

Is this the school’s role, some ask? Don’t these young people have parents? The answer, I believe, is not to approach school health-care clinics as a means for undermining our role as parents, but to view them as augmenting our position. These clinics would act as on-campus facilities to meet the various medical needs of our teen-agers.

Parenting is a sensitive relationship with young people. We want our children to address their questions to us regarding sex, dating, friends, school and drugs, and we want them to pick their wet towels up off the bedroom floor and read at least one good book a week.

However, we have all learned that parenting is also a humbling task. Our children do not always come to us with their questions about sex, dating, friends, school and drugs; the towels remain on the floor, and the good book remains unopened.

Have we forgotten what it is like to be a teen-ager and exist in a world of doubt, euphoria, depression, silliness and constant worry? Sure, we could talk to our parents--but could we really talk to our parents? It was a time when we were consumed with thoughts about our bodies and their development--not just our reproductive system. Do you remember how involved you were with yourself and your appearance?

Remember getting into bed at night and being absolutely sure, beyond a doubt, that one of your legs appeared shorter than the other? Or did you feel that you were the only 10th-grade boy who didn’t have enough facial hair to warrant shaving? Did you believe that you were the only person in the entire student body whose face broke out before exams? Having read the article in the paper yesterday, you knew that you, too, had the dread disease described because you were experiencing similar symptoms. Did you worry constantly about being overweight or underweight? Was life really worth living if the boy in the front row of your French class didn’t invite you to Saturday’s dance? What if you were pregnant? What would your parents do?

Today many teen-agers keep their babies rather than give them up for adoption. But how does a 14-year-old girl cope with the constant crying of a 9-month-old baby suffering from an ear infection? Doesn’t she want to be out playing softball or getting ready to go to the movies with a group of friends? Is there a correlation between teen-age pregnancy and child abuse?

And the 15-year-old boy who suspects he has herpes--does he ask his mother before she goes to work in the morning what the signs for herpes are? Can the overweight or underweight girl sit down with her parents and calmly discuss her eating habits? Is there someone readily available to counsel the young couple who “know they are in love” and have been engaged in sexual activity for the last three months with no birth control? Does the young man with the unexplained lump on his back call the doctor for an appointment or spend hours in needless worry?

I urge the committee members to go back to their own teen-age years and recall with whom they spoke about their concerns regarding development and their physical well-being. I thank those 29 individuals who come with their different backgrounds, unique sets of rules by which they were raised, and their personal religious beliefs or philosophies and who must now listen to the needs of a community.

And I am certain that my friend with the brown eyes and laughing smile who loved Johnny Mathis and the Supremes would thank them, too.