The grand total of my sex education when I was at school in the Noughties went like this: in Year 6, the girls and boys were split up, and the girls were made to watch a graphic birth video; in Year 8, we carried “flour babies” around school for a week; in Year 9, we received a self-defence lesson in which the male instructor told us not to wear our hair in a ponytail because an attacker could grab it; and in Year 10, the school nurse demonstrated how to use a condom while we all giggled hysterically.
