Sixth-Graders Learning Lessons Of Aids Once Controversial, Boise Program Has Become Routine After Three Years

With a 5-foot-tall picture of HIV attacking a white blood cell projected behind her, school nurse Toni Allen explains in vivid detail how the virus destroys the body’s immune system and leaves it vulnerable to disease.

The 22 sixth-grade boys at Whittier Elementary School - despite the potentially embarrassing topic - are riveted to her explanation. They ask questions about how long it takes for the virus to spread, how long people can live, and why the body’s antibodies can’t fight off HIV.

“It’s like an invasion and you can’t get rid of it,” 12-year-old Andy Bennett observes. “Once you’ve got it, you always have it.”

Forget black-and-white puberty films that talk about using deodorant and shaving. Sixth-graders in the Boise School District learn that they can die from sex.

Three years after a controversial introduction, AIDS education has become routine in local schools. From kindergarten through high school, students spend from a few minutes to a few hours on the human immunodeficiency virus and the disease it causes, acquired immune deficiency syndrome.

Whittier sixth-graders got their 45-minute lesson on a recent Friday. In contrast to the heated arguments that resulted when the AIDS courses were planned, the class of mostly 12-year-olds was attentive and giggled only a few times.

They ask if it’s OK to laugh. Allen says it is, but warns them not to yell out questions or answers without raising their hands.

Following the curriculum to the letter, the nurse began the class with a true-false quiz.

“A person can get infected with HIV without knowing it,” she asks, a blue marker poised to check the appropriate box on an overhead projector. The boys - segregated from their female classmates - look around curiously. Some answer “true” - and then the others join in the discordant reply.

Allen affirms their answer.

The questions continue: “You can get AIDS from eating in a restaurant, swimming pools or toilet seats.” No hesitation this time: The class says “false.”

But another question was too much for the pre-teen version of political correctness. “Only IV drug users and gay men get AIDS.” Muffled laughter spreads across the room. The answer wasn’t a problem. “False,” the youngsters reply. The smiles, however, continue.

A discussion of how the virus acts in the body follows. It provokes more interest than any other part of the lesson, including sexual contact.

In a step-by-step account, Allen outlines how the virus has the “key” needed to invade white blood cells, called “T-helper” cells. The virus then transforms the T-cells to manufacture more virus cells.

She talks about how antiviral medications can slow - but not stop - the spread of HIV in the body and then asks: “What is the best medication we can use?”

In a smattering of different responses, one boy says “use condoms and don’t share needles.” His nearby classmates nod in agreement.

Allen has another thought in mind. Boise’s curriculum - unlike many AIDS education programs across the nation - does not include discussion of condoms at sixth-grade. That happens in junior high.

“Prevention,” Allen says, not hearing the boy’s answer above the cacophony.

Since you can’t tell if someone else has HIV or not, she explains, there are universal precautions everyone should use. Avoid touching someone else’s blood. Don’t share needles. And then, of course, it can be spread by sexual contact.

The sixth-grade boys knew about most body fluids and were quick to answer that it could be spread by semen. “What about girls? How can they spread it?” Allen asks.

Tension in the room builds. The young faces look around for someone else who will take a guess. “During her period,” one boy says. “That’s right, that’s one way,” the nurse responds. “Any other ideas?”

The boys did not know about vaginal secretions. They found out about them Friday. “That’s just part of who women are,” Allen says.

Allen then talks about abstinence and monogamy as ways to reduce the risk.

“Abstinence is the best protection. No sex,” she says. “Absolutely no sex.”

“What’s monogamy mean?” she continues.

“It means you are having sex,” a boy answers.

“With how many people?” she asks. Several answers float about the room.

“Only one,” she confirms.

But is that absolute protection? she asks. No, the class answers, because the other person might be lying to you.

Still no discussion of condoms.

“Sometimes they’ll ask a question that I don’t think is appropriate for the class,” she says. “What I do then is tell the student that I’ll need to answer their question one-on-one. But before I answer it, I call their parents and talk to them first.”