Sex education can learn from bananas: we must bear in mind that, for a certain number of people, ignorance really will equal death.

Panting, with tears flying into sweat-matted hair, the last cyclist stoically pulled himself up the first hill of the aptly-titled 2002 Hill Country Ride for AIDS. I stood among the hundreds of volunteers lining the sides of the course; our cheering took its toll on our vocal cords, but our hope never abated during the two-day event. There were volunteers representing all facets of human compassion: octogenarians and people who had lived with AIDS for over 20 years, triathletes and first-time riders; but I was the youngest person at the ride: a 19-year-old celebrating her five-year commitment to AIDS-related causes.

My mentor, Gina *, a petite woman with a spit-fire spirit, told the local news just why so many of her baby-boomer generation were present on this exhaustive ride: "Back in the 80s, we lost so many people so fast. I don't want that to happen again." Looking over at Gina at that moment, I realized that, unlike hers, my generation has grown up with AIDS and HIV around us; so how could I explain my reasons for taking part? And, more importantly, why is it that HIV is just as much of a destructive force as ever, but so few of my peers seem to acknowledge that fact?

Perhaps a difficult step must be taken to ensure the message that HIV and related STIs are pervasive and dangerous is not lost amid the apathy and personal biases of my peers and authority figures.

Similarly, in terms of threatened extinction, international news stories report that due to infertility and vulnerability, one of America's most popular fruits may soon vanish: the banana. Bananas are sterile and unable to sustain their genes against deadly viral predators without scientific intervention. Now, if only contemporary health education could benefit from a similar scientific race to improve its chances for prosperity.

Sexual health education, as it is (at best) sporadically endorsed, faces the same sort of crisis unless sexuality educators can look at the subject from the perspectives of the many spheres of influence in our lives.

The problem with HIV awareness is the fact that it has become peripheral to other health- and sex-related concerns. We know, deep in our hearts or in an abstract sense, that AIDS is a vicious epidemic in Africa, and most have listened to health instructors warning us of the perils of STIs, or to HIV-infected people talking to us about living with the virus.

However, unlike the generations before us, we do not see constant headlines about scientists heroically rushing to find a cure: we've stared at electron-microscope images of the tiny predator, and now the fearsome HIV virus has become, by most accounts, almost manageable.

My friend Liza * well illustrates this troubling phenomenon. Liza, an intelligent young woman, recently confessed that her sorority sisters were teasing her with unkind remarks concerning her previous "surfeit" of sexual experience. It did not shock me that Liza has chosen to engage in something seemingly against her conservative upbringing, but that the people closest to her in life right now might be in fact subtly influencing her towards a dangerous path. Although young men are encouraged to engage in myriad sexual exploits, women are often proscribed from the same. In addition, archaic mores discourage young adults from learning more about proper condom use. As a consequence the treatment of sex as a taboo in college has often resulted in young women allowing themselves to be trapped in risky sexual tableaux, sometimes involving dangerous drugs and alcohol, in order to be able to claim afterwards that they were "swept away in the moment."

Stemming the tide of this HIV pandemic must include increasing sexuality education and behavioral training. Young women are in the most dire need of education simply because they quite often don't realize the impact of their choices and may not know the best way to insist on a condom or express their unreadiness for a sexual relationship. Two weeks after she told me about her sisters' teasing, Liza admitted to me that she had initiated a sexual relationship with her current boyfriend but went on to say that the encounter "didn't count" because they were in a "fit of passion" and he was only inside briefly, "really."

The sorrow of her story is that Liza does not realize that every act counts and that all acts, particularly the unprotected ones, have consequences. It's interesting that in a society so inundated with fear, in which every news story pulses with paranoia about nuclear arms, "sleeper" terrorists, or killer bees, we seem content to ignore the tangible threats that our own poor choices create for us.

Compared to many of the issues our media chooses to emphasize, the medical threat posed by HIV isn't able to effectively evoke a visceral understanding of how dangerous this world really is, especially for young women who may simply make the wrong decision at the wrong time. How can our society reverse the tide of ignorance and provide life-saving information and resources to those most at risk of HIV infection?

Increasing the public's theoretical awareness of HIV is not enough. Sexuality educators must also help people consider their own behaviors and choices more objectively and learn methods to alter and improve them. We must recognize and respond to the influence that immediate family, friends, mentors, and leaders have over individual lives. As Liza's story illustrates, young adults are constantly assimilating ways of thinking about the world gleaned from our peers, authority figures, and our environment.

Effective sexuality education should start well before college; and, if we accept that saving lives is more important than perpetuating ancient taboos, must be reinforced by educational and governmental policies favoring open-mindedness about contraception. Ultimately, imminent budget cuts in HIV prevention services, and the almost criminal presidential endorsement of W. David Hager for the chairmanship of the Food and Drug Administration show that we can no longer entrust the vital issue of sexual health education to the media's once-every-December prayers. (Dr. Hager is a physician who believes that prayer will cure PMS and that birth control is immoral for unmarried women.)

Though actively providing relevant information may seem intrusive to some, young people are naturally curious about sex. I myself have found that even people who have been raised with values and backgrounds that differ from my own appreciate any information that I can objectively provide them concerning sex and STIs. This illustrates the sharp dichotomy between the emotional arguments that people like Dr. Hager make, and the objective course that we must follow.

The reality is that members of older generations were often not aware of the dangers of sexual pressure, STIs, and the absolute importance of proper condom use until the HIV epidemic broke in the early 1980s. It's easy to cite obtuse, often mistake-ridden education that some people received in order to explain risky sexual behavior; but who provided the information to their teachers in the first place?

University peer mentor programs should institute workshops during "Parents' Weekends" and reach out to insular groups (including sororities, fraternities, and other college organizations) with specific information. These programs need to prepare parents and other authority figures to say to their interest groups, "I would rather that you did not engage in sexual activity of any kind when you are young because I don't think you are emotionally and physically ready for the costs and consequences of such decisions. However, I want you to lead a long and happy life and so here is how to get out of a risky situation or use a condom if you are ever in one."

The loss of the banana seems inconvenient since Americans might have to scramble to discover a new favorite article of produce, but it would be lethal to indigenous African populations that depend on the yellow-skinned staple. The same could be said for proper sexuality education: some people might find it inconvenient or uncomfortable and, consequently, avoid providing clear and healthy information about sex to those who depend on them for guidance; but we must bear in mind that, for a certain number of people, ignorance really will equal death.

This is the reality that my generation faces, especially as we are maturing in what seem to be the waning years of HIV awareness: we knew what the AIDS Quilt, "Magic" Johnson, and Red Ribbon Campaigns meant when we were growing up; yet, I often see young individuals who don't feel in control of their own futures because of the archaic views they have imbibed from contemporary culture.

Though my mentor from the ride, Gina, had to endure the indiscriminate loss of loved ones' lives through AIDS in the 1980s, there is still hope that, if we impart to community leaders the ability to objectively teach safe and prudent behavioral techniques, many such heartbreaking ordeals can be avoided in my generation.

* names changed