Don’t panic just because your son is growing up

My friend calls me and says, “Biko, not long ago I found my son’s CD in my laptop. It was labelled ‘school project’ so I decided to open it and see how well he is faring with his project. Instead, I found pornography. He was watching porn!” I rubbed my chin like a sage. I was thinking maybe that was his school project. I mean, what if? Who knows with these schools anyway?

They are teaching these kids to be independent-minded, to bravely pursue their interests and embrace creativity, chart their own path. Unlike us, nobody is harping at them to become doctors and engineers and pilots. Maybe this boy found his true north, to make pornographic movies – which, by the way, is a multi-billion dollar industry worldwide. So he was doing his academic research. I was secretly happy for this boy’s newfound nirvana.

Anyway, I asked, “Hang on, was it black or white porn?” There was a pause on the other end, a disturbed one, like she was trying to process if I just spoke English or Yiddish. She said, “I’m... I’m... I’m sorry... What do you mean?” I repeated: “The pornographic video, were the actors black or white?”

I could hear her controlling her breathing. Then she asked me in that dangerous calm motherly voice: “How does that matter?” I asked, “Did you not watch it?” She squealed, “No, I did not watch it, are you mad!? I watched only, like, three seconds of it then I removed it quickly.” “Oh, so you did watch it.” I said and she retorted indignantly, “I didn’t, excuse me, I’m not into such things. Eeew.”

RITE OF PASSAGE

Then she moaned about the loss of her little boy’s innocence, her little boy watching pornography. I said, “He’s not little, he’s 17. That’s a man.” She said, “He’s a little boy!”

I said “Listen, you should be grateful that he is watching porn.” And she was like, “What? What’s there to be grateful about?” I said it could be worse. He could be doing hard drugs or talking to extremists from Syria, planning to hop onto the next flight out to the Middle East and grab an AK-47. “You are stressed that a 17-year-old is watching porn? My goodness, you should be happy he’s developing. He’s a red-blooded male who finds breasts fascinating. Let the boy be! What does his dad think, anyway?”

“His dad was angry but he could have been acting, though. Who knows? You men are hard to understand. Look, what I wanted to know is, should I talk to him about it or should I have him speak to a sex therapist?”

A laugh escaped my mouth. “Neither,” I said, “unless your husband is a sex therapist.” There was no laughter from her end. “How do you find this normal, Biko?” she asked coldly. I said, “Because it is! We all did it! He is 17! I bet he even masturbates...” She hung up. I called back. She didn’t pick up.

Goodness! Modern mothers want to fix everything with a handbook. They worry too much. Sex therapist for porn? Yikes! I think half the boys I grew up with watched porn and tried smoking cigarettes or weed at some point. We all tried it because it seemed so grownup and mysterious and we were all mysterious and trying to grow up. But most of us grew bored of these shenanigans and moved on. Kids will try stuff. If you have sound grounding and a good foundation, such pursuits will hardly ever stick.

I wondered how talking to him would go. “Tim, sit there.” That’s how I knew I was about to get a lecture from my mum, whenever she said, “Biko, sit there.” So this lady would tell her son, “I found your school project in my laptop, and I’m curious to know which teacher assigned it. Was it the biology teacher, Mrs Macharia?”

Of course the boy would stay mum and stare at his feet, feeling like a mummy. “I watched your school project, and I’m disappointed that you fill your time watching such things. [Pause for dramatic effect.] Is this why we sacrifice and struggle to pay your school fees? So that you can watch such things?”

The poor boy would bite his lips. “What fascinates you about such things, Tim? Eh? Tell me. What devil is this that has possessed you?” [Oh, that was so my mother’s line. Always giving the devil credit for stuff that I had come up with on my own.]

Tim would sit there, embarrassed and wonder, “Did she watch the whole thing? My goodness, if she did I will have to run away and join a monastery and change my name to Eliud.”

Is there a moral here, people? Yes. Of course. Boys will grow up and they will start thinking about sex, and maybe even experimenting. Don’t throw a strop over it.