This is NOT a family friendly post. Do not let your children see what follows. Of course, if your child attends a public school, it’s possible that they are being taught what I’m about to show you.
For the background:
Kevin Jennings is President Obama’s “Safe Schools Czar.” He is also the founder and president of GLSEN, the Gay Lesbian Straight Education Network. GLSEN’s mission statement is as follows…
The Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network strives to assure that each member of every school community is valued and respected regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity/expression.
We believe that such an atmosphere engenders a positive sense of self, which is the basis of educational achievement and personal growth. Since homophobia and heterosexism undermine a healthy school climate, we work to educate teachers, students and the public at large about the damaging effects these forces have on youth and adults alike. We recognize that forces such as racism and sexism have similarly adverse impacts on communities and we support schools in seeking to redress all such inequities.
GLSEN seeks to develop school climates where difference is valued for the positive contribution it makes in creating a more vibrant and diverse community. We welcome as members any and all individuals, regardless of sexual orientation, gender identity/expression or occupation, who are committed to seeing this philosophy realized in K-12 schools.
OK, agree with them or not, they seems to be saying that they want to end discrimination. Sort of nice and harmless, right? Well, there is far more to the story than meets the eye. GLSEN has a recommended reading list for kids, and the content of the books involved seem to go far beyond the stated mission of the organization.
This is what Kevin Jennings thinks ought to be presented to your kids. If you do not want to read about depictions of sexual activities with children, children and adults, and so forth, STOP NOW!
(At the age of six, the author frequently performed fellatio on his fellow first-graders in the school restroom, part of a “busy homosexual childhood.”)
My sexual exploits with my neighborhood playmates continued. I lived a busy homosexual childhood, somehow managing to avoid venereal disease through all my toddler years. By first grade I was sexually active with many friends. In fact, a small group of us regularly met in the grammar school lavatory to perform fellatio on one another. A typical week’s schedule would be Aaron and Michael on Monday during lunch; Michael and Johnny on Tuesday after school; Fred and Timmy at noon Wednesday; Aaron and Timmy after school on Thursday. None of us ever got caught, but we never worried about it anyway. We all understood that what we were doing was not to be discussed freely with adults but we viewed it as a fun sort of confidential activity. None of us had any guilty feelings about it; we figured everyone did it. Why shouldn’t they?
(An illustration about the change from “boy to man,” showing two Boy Scouts pointing at and looking at two adult men engaging in anal sex.)
(A 13-year-old boy has a violent sexual encounter with an older man, which causes the boy to become desperate for sex, and he ends up spending the rest of the year promiscuously getting “my cock sucked and my ass fucked” by “a seemingly endless supply of dicks” belonging to older men, concluding with “I really did enjoy those sexual encounters.”)
One day, on the bus to shop class, this ugly fuck of a man sat behind me and put his foot in the crack of my seat. He was skinny, with a patchy, pencil-thin mustache that besotted his oily face. I ignored him for most of the trip. I did notice that he changed buses when I did, but this time he sat beside me. He tried a little small talk, but then he suddenly and very nervously put his hand on my crotch. It never occurred to me to tell him not to. I’m not sure if I agreed to it or not, but he managed to get me to follow him to a nearby rest room at another secondary school “to play.” In the bathroom stall, lit by two scant rows of fluorescent lights, half of them burnt-out or flickering, he tried to kiss me, but I was too nauseated to do that. He sucked my nipples and played with my cock. I had no idea what to do. He then tried to get me to suck his. Somehow I knew this was expected of me, but I just could not put his ugly, foul-smelling penis into my mouth. When he forced it in I gagged so hard I started vomiting. Undaunted, he tried to put his cock in my ass. Thankfully, he came prematurely. He pulled up his trousers and left me in the toilet stall confused, frightened, crying, and praying to God for forgiveness of my horrible sin. I spent a good deal of time locked in the stall, trying to clean up, trying to wipe the smell of that act off with wet toilet paper, but I was doused in the stench of that man and what he had done.
This incident should have soured me on men, but it only made me more confused and needful. One day later, something accidental happened that would change my life. I discovered that at a urinal I could actually see someone else’s penis. I was ecstatic and fearful, but I wanted more. One day, at a local shopping mall, as I was trying to sneak a peek at penises in the rest rooms, a man at the urinal actually turned to me and started playing with himself. He flashed me a gold-toothed smirk and motioned for me to come over. Shocked, I zippered up and ran out, but the seeds had been laid. The whole world of rest-room sex had opened itself up to me.
Soon I was spending a great deal of time hanging out in shopping malls and cruising the rest rooms for sexual encounters. My rest-room exploits started to be a great burden on my mind. The better part of the year was spent making deals with God, asking for a sign, then ignoring and rationalizing everything I perceived to be a sign, praying for forgiveness, and being obsessed with raging hormones and a seemingly endless supply of dicks. I believed that it was all part of a test by God to see if I was a sinner. I was.
I had known before that something was up, and that I was attracted to men, but this toilet thing was a whole new realm of sin and Satan, a new level that I had never before imagined. The following years were spent praying for forgiveness and trying to purge my homosexuality through prayer and Bible study. While my classmates wondered what sex was like, content to masturbate over pinups, I was out there having my cock sucked and my ass fucked. These were grown men I was tricking with. Some were nice, grateful for a young boy to have their way with. Some were harsh and mean. There were a few nasty encounters, brutal and painful experiences, near-rapes, but through it all, I never thought that I had the ability to say no.
I was scared about what I was doing, scared of God’s judgment and of being caught in all those rest rooms and parks, but I really did enjoy those sexual encounters. That feeling of doing it to them and them doing the same for me was just too damn good.
(An interview with a “sex worker” who praises prostitution as a way to raise one’s self-esteem and have empowering sexual experiences.)
Minal is a young queer from India and has been a sex worker in the S/M scene for a year and a half. He has taken a break from sex work and lives in San Francisco. In this interview Minal talks about his journey into sex work as a way of uplifting his self-esteem around body-image issues, his feeling of empowerment doing sex work in drag…
S: How did you get into sex work?
M: Well, before I get into that I have to tell you how I got into S/M generally, since I used to be a complete vanilla bottom. I’m gay, by the way; I’m exploring being transgendered, and I’ve been doing drag for about ten years, on and off. Drag was never a sexual thing for me, I’ve always had sex “as a guy.” Around March of last year a friend asked me about rape fantasies—she wanted to know what my fantasies were. I realized I hadn’t been fantasizing at all. When I did start thinking about it, my fantasies were all about whipping. I started reading up on S/M, and it was making me interested in sex for the first time. Before, I never knew what the big deal was with sex. I put a personal ad in the paper to do scenes with different people, and I realized that for what I was doing, I could be getting good money. I had a lot of friends in the sex industry who were asking me, “Why aren’t you charging for what you’re doing?”
So that summer I did it for free and learned what I needed to do, and by November I started putting out ads in the Bay Area Reporter. My ads were sort of genderfuck: my picture was taken from the neck down in a corset, fishnets and garter belt. It was a dom-type look. I realized there weren’t that many guys into doing S/M professionally, and the ones that were were really butch—so I stood out a lot. It was great. It was the first time I had really good sex, I was getting paid for it, and I felt totally in control. It was good, but I was wondering how many people I was losing by advertising as a fem dom. I started putting ads online without the fem look and got a lot more response, so I switched to just having a nude picture in the paper as opposed to a girlish one. The responses were more than I could handle, which is a good thing. That’s how I got into sex work, as a way of exploring my sexuality.
S: How has your self-image improved from doing sex work?
M: I feel a lot more confident and secure with myself. I think that has a lot to do with S/M and coming into my own power.
(A 15-year-old boy embarks on an intense sexual relationship with a much older adult man.)
Near the end of summer, just before starting his sophomore year in high school, Dan picked up a weekly Twin Cities newspaper. Scanning the classifieds, he came upon an ad for a “Man-2-Man” massage. Home alone one day, he called the telephone number listed in the ad and set up an appointment to meet a man named Tom. Tom offered to drive to Zimmerman. So, over the phone, Dan directed him to a secluded road in his subdivision. “Stop where the pavement ends,” Dan told him.
A couple of nights later, Dan pulled the broken screen from his bedroom window and slipped out of the house while his parents slept. He hurried to the prearranged rendezvous spot, and there, in the dark of night, he met Tom for the first time, man-to-man. In the back of Tom’s van, the two had sex.
“He gave me a little shoulder rub and the next thing I knew his hands were all over me,” Dan remembers. “It wasn’t a bad thing. I didn’t necessarily know it would turn into sex. But I knew what I was doing.”
Dan continued his liaisons with Tom throughout the summer and into the following school year, having sex—usually masturbation and oral sex—with Tom in his van or his Minneapolis apartment.
Even though Tom was older, almost twice Dan’s age, Dan felt unthreatened by him. Dan admits Tom was a “troll” in every sense of the word—an older closeted gay man seeking sex with a man much younger. But Dan says he was not intimidated by the discrepancy in their ages. “He kind of had me in a corner in that he knew I didn’t have access to anything I wanted.” says Dan. “But everything was consensual.”
“He wasn’t exactly a friend,” Dan says of his relationship with Tom. “He wasn’t exactly a lover. He wasn’t exactly a role model. He wasn’t exactly anything. What I got out of it was sex, and someone who made me feel nice for once. Sex was a totally different way to feel good. It was a very easy way to get away from the pain. I was young. He brought me down to the city, where I wanted to be. And I was very young.”
(A woman recalls how as a teenager she had a sexual affair with an adult teacher at her high school, which greatly boosted the girl’s self-esteem.)
While still in high school, she had an affair with a teacher. “She was forty-four and had a daughter who was a year younger than me, who went to my school. Needless to say, it was all very confusing, but exciting as well. The moment right after we kissed for the first time, I ran to the mirror and looked at myself. I was ecstatic. I thought I would look different. I said in a barely audible whisper, ‘I’m a lesbian.’ About six months later, we stopped being physically sexual, at my request. I was racked with guilt feelings and knew that it was out of control. I was terrified of someone finding out….”
(The narrator regrets that as a teenager he was too shy to hook up with an older man.)
I’ve never been with a guy yet. I was tempted once. I was in this store–a clothes shop or something. Well, this guy was looking at me and my friend pointed it out. I was gonna go up and talk to the guy, but the guy was twenty-something. He was good-looking, too. This was like a year and a half ago or something. I was really screwed up—not sure how I felt. I didn’t say anything. I remembered going home and wishing that I had said something.
(A five-year-old girl and a six-year-old girl engage in sex games.)
I am five and Katie is six. Her birthday is in September. Mine is in June. We are both in kindergarten, she in the p.m. class and me in the a.m., but we go to day care together. We are best friends.
Today I am going to Katie’s for a playdate.
Katie pulls her shorts off. She is wearing blue and white polka-dotted Hanes underwear, the kind that I have at home. They come in a three-pack with a matching blue pair and a matching white pair. She lies down on her floor and pulls her underwear off over her butt, and tells me to spank her because she’s the baby and I’m the mommy. It seems kind of weird and she yells at me to do it. Then she makes me be the baby and she spanks me, too. She tells me that I should learn how to French-kiss because boys always do that, so she kisses me and puts her tongue in my mouth. I roll my tongue hot-dog style, because that is fun.
Her mommy drives me home, and in the backseat of her white car Katie Frenches me again.
We are in second grade now, and Katie still makes me practice Frenching her.
Gateway Pundit has far more excerpts, including screen captures of the book pages. You can check out the GLSEN book list to see that these are these books they recommend for public school children.
There is more, the following is also posted at Gateway Pundit (Different post).
If it’s all about tolerance, why is the following question necessary?
Male Teacher: … Spit versus swallowing – I don’t know about the calorie count of cum. All right. Is it rude? Let’s ask this question: Is it rude not to swallow?
Students: No! Oh, no! [Many "no's" from the children.]
Male Teacher: No. So it’s in good bedroom etiquette … [unclear] to spit out?
Tolerance – You just heard a public employee ask 14-year-olds if it was rude to spit rather than swallow during oral sex.
So, I’m not going to engage in unnecessary commentary, because I think the content speaks for itself. I will ask that if GLSEN is all about tolerance and self esteem, why all the hypersexualized content, some of it depicting criminal behavior between adults and minors?
If you have kids in public school, get them out NOW!!!
BTW, Chase is sponsoring GLSEN.
Maybe you want to call them and let them know what you think about tall of this?
How did that get there?