Why Belize is struggling to achieve a comprehensive sexual health curriculum
Hayley Headley
In the face of staggering statistics that all point to a need for greater and more expansive sexual health education, many countries like Belize have lagged behind. In 2018, The UNFPA reported that 64 out of every 1000 adolescent girls get pregnant, a number that supersedes the global average of 41. A country at odds with its location and culture, it also walks the fine line of conventional Western secular governance and leadership that is rooted in the beliefs of the church. Much like its government, Belizean society is also finding itself at a crossroads; society and its people are also navigating a thin and controversial line between piety and hedonism.
Belize is a country that is facing many new challenges. Its growing population and high rates of teen pregnancy are beginning to put a severe strain on the country’s resources. There has been ongoing debate within this small nation about creating a singular nationwide curriculum that would educate its youth on sex, contraception and STIs. But according to Ms. Gentle, a senior official at the Belize Home and Family Life Association (BFLA), there has been a lot of push back from both the churches and religious schools alike.
When I spoke with Bishop Phillip Wright, a member of the council of churches, he called Belizean society “oversexed”, viewing Belize as a country that has become too enthralled with the culture of dancehall and casual sex. This seems to be the feeling of many older Belizeans, that society needs to return to good, pure Christian values. These two juxtaposing forces - the church and a culture of partying - has become synonymous with the youth of the country. More than that, these forces have been at odds with each other for much of Belize’s modern history.
Belizean society and its people are navigating a thin and controversial line between piety and hedonism.
First colonised by the Spanish and then the English, for whom the spread of Christianity was imperative to their colonial control, Christianity has since become a cornerstone of not only Belizean society, but also its government. One of the 13 seats in the senate is left to the ‘Council of Churches;’ this deciding vote is left in the hands of those who collectively aim to “to be the prophetic voice in this challenging time.”
This prophetic voice has since filtered into Belize’s school system and as well as their sexual health education curriculum; one of Belize’s most well renowned high schools, Saint Catherine Academy (SCA), is a semi-private institution that upholds these strict Catholic values.
According to SCA’s sexual health programme coordinator, their sexual health education is focused on advocating “for the girls to basically know themselves, love themselves and basically respect themselves. So when it comes to sexual activity, sexual orientation, we do teach them life skills. We teach them how to protect themselves. This year we are implementing a self defence course. In 2nd form [the second year of high school education] we are teaching theology of the body [first made by Pope John Paul II] and in that it basically teaches them how to interact with the opposite sex and to understand the different types of relationships.”
Further declared by the head of SCA’s sex-ed department, “we have to be careful with how we treat that information, we cannot be reckless. Because the more information you get as a young mind, you become curious, and so we can sometimes open Pandora’s box. While I think that we can and should educate, I think we should educate them more on preservation, to be chaste, to make good judgements, to make wise decisions instead of just diving in head first.”
Saint Catherine Academy also hosts fairs and celebrations that always feature dance halls. This environment, filled with dark spaces and loud blaring music, are the center of this perverse “oversexed” subculture that schools are supposedly trying to eradicate. These are two juxtaposing lessons. At a school with monthly mass and daily prayer, SCA seems to moonlight on weekends as a host for this hedonism.
When I spoke to a 2018 alumna who wished to remain anonymous, she commented that “it is kind of ridiculous that they allow something that is inherently sexual, but do not teach sex-ed,” highlighting the contradictions between teaching a life of chosen abstinence but encouraging environments where sexual activity among young people is not only enticed but encouraged (but with no scientific knowledge in their pocket of how to keep themselves safe and protected). Another former student also affirmed that, “I don't think their religion warrants them deciding what part of my education to give me.”
Curiosity is sparked all the same, and situations arise whether these young girls are ready or not. Pandora's box is already open. Students ultimately feel that the school shouldn’t be able to pick and choose how they educate young women. Times are changing, this country is evolving, and whether we like it or not, things need to change.
“I don't think their religion warrants them deciding what part of my education to give me.”
However, these mixed signals aren’t only being sent at Saint Catherine Academy, they are prolific in Belizean society. The ruse of Christian values of chastity, modesty and abstinence is quickly shed in favour of dance halls, sexually explicit music and money. Schools all over the country are suffering from expanding class sizes and stagnant budgets. These are new and foreign problems for Belize, a tiny nation that has recently seen an increase in youth populations.
But with so many incoming students, and a teen pregnancy rate that exceeds both the global and regional average, the problems seem to only be increasing. In turn, the youth are left treading water in turbulent oceans.
Why? It surely isn’t for a lack of desire for change. Organisations like the Belize Home and Family Life Education have been fighting fervently through their youth advocacy movement for a singular uniform curriculum that would radically change much of what is being taught. NGOs like themselves, in partnership with larger international organisations, have been fighting to implement a single high school curriculum with little help.
In 2018, UNAIDS reported that even though teen fertility in the whole of the Caribbean is 30% above the world average, the whole region is severely lacking in their secondary school sex education. They have called for Comprehensive Sexual Health education to become a part of the Caribbean education system, but even in the face of international pressure, little has changed in classrooms across the country.
As expressed by Ms. Gentle, “the church, particularly evangelicals and ‘die-hard’ Catholics, are a large part of their opposition.” As a result, secondary schools fail to provide a singular message, leaving the gap to be filled by non-government actors. The national debate just lingers on, with no definitive consensus.
All in all, the country remains at odds with itself. Caught between upholding the values upon which this nation was built, the same values it has used to govern itself for the past 38 years. The verdict has yet to be passed on a single unified sexual health curriculum, and NGOs, government officials, Church officials, and teachers continue to deliberate without result. But fundamentally, the students who are central to this decision are asking them to consider what matters more - their religion or their youth.
The art accompanying this piece is courtesy of © Katherine Coye.