There’s a difference between the reproductive organs, on the one hand, and ALL the other organs, on the other. Such difference is meaningful in both physical and especially psychological terms. Thus, parents are not bothered (and manifest very little concern) when TV programmes and movies that deal with eating, or with seeing, or with running, or even with diseases are broadcast. But they do get very concerned when programmes that deal with sexual matters are shown. There’s a qualitative difference here. Hence the OP.
I’m still not getting it. Does lying to your children about divorce make them think that apples aren’t red? I don’t understand the connection between death, divorce and names of genitals. Why would lying about death lead to the conclusion that penes are very different (different from what?) or very scary?
If anything, not naming something by it’s right name gives it more power. Think of He Who Must Not Be Named or cancer. The first rule of empowerment is clear recognition and mastery of language. But that’s getting a little metaphysical.
AH! Here we go. This is the difference, I think, in where we’re coming from. I don’t view them as only reproductive organs, and I don’t view them as reproductive organs at all in very young children. I view them as elimination organs, as sources of self-pleasure (yes, even fetuses get erections) and as, well, parts of the body.
The male organ of elimination is not the “wee-wee”. It’s the penis. This is just as true of a two year old as a twenty year old. The female part that feels good when you rub it is the vulva. (Children don’t tend to single out the clitoris.)
I don’t see a qualitative difference in shielding my very young child from movie sexuality and movie gore. I don’t want them seeing kneecaps splintered, blood on the wrong side of the skin, eyeballs smashed, noses broken, or groins kneed. These things are perversions of what a two year old should see happening to parts of the body. It’s scary. So is sex. (Self-pleasure is not perverse for a two year old, but sex is.) I also don’t let small children watch medical shows or shows like The Boy Whose Skin Fell Off. But I do let them see shows on how the body works - digestion, elimination, skeletal, etc. And, yes, certain (pre-viewed) pieces or books on sex, as they get older.* This is all part of developmental appropriateness, and I still don’t see why teaching the child and incorrect name for only some parts of his body is appropriate.
*The reason sex is delayed until a little older, is because many children see it as violent, and it can look scary. Two people “hitting” each other and screaming looks awfully weird when you don’t yet have the context to put it in.
I’m with Bull on this. When our kids cut their fingers we didn’t put a band-aid on their digital laceration (making sure to wipe the hemaglobin off of the epidermis).
That’s not to avoid the necessity (yes, necessity) of teaching kids the medical terminology. It’s just not the most convenient parlance for daily use. We used “privates” in general conversation. In frank discussions about sex, though, medical terminology abounds (c’mon everyone, say it with me “Fallopian tube” - I knew you could).
What we need are commonplace, non-cutsie, non-offensive, and non-medical names - the hand, foot, nose, and heart of the nether regions.
o-> When I was young our playground favoured “thing.” Not terribly descriptive, but everyone knew what was indicated. “Shaft” is a bit closer (and maybe has shades of offensive, but I don’t see why). How about “rodney” (with no offense to those people so named and unwilling to suffer along with the “dicks” of the world)?
O+ The mischief-maker in me would go for Mynn’s “taco” (I love that one! I’ll have to try it on Mrs. Call, see what she thinks). The word “portal” crossed my mind, but like “thing” and “shaft” is not very selective. Okay, what about “petals”?
Incidentally, “wound,” “blood,” and “skin” are all medical terms.
Good point. You know what I mean, though - medical terms that smell as sterile as a hospital room. In daily conversation I’d say “wound” before “laceration” - but I’d more likely say “cut” - even “owie” if trying to console a child.
Right. And “penis” and “vulva” are ordinary everyday words, just like “blood” or “skin.”
Terms that would be more equivalent to “hemoglobin” or “epidermis” would be “labia majora” and “glans.” These are words that we use when we want to be more specific, usually in a medical or instructional context. And I don’t think anyone’s arguing that we need to teach the 2-year-old terms like those. Eventually, she should learn them, as she learns more about her body and the way it works, but the OP asks about the word “penis,” which is an ordinary term like “nose” or “ear.” It’s just the common correct name of the body part.
With the Bean Sprout (3), we use “penis” most of the time. Sometimes, we use euphemisms like “diaper area” to refer to the whole crotch region, but we wouldn’t use that to refer to the penis specifically, because it’s just not accurate.
I do want to point something out: Those of those who advocate using “penis” don’t necessarily feel that we must only use the word penis. We use other terms sometimes, too, especially when we’re being silly. The other day, I called it his “ding-a-ling,” which he thought was hilarious. But he knows that it’s properly called a “penis,” just like he knows that his nose is a nose, even though I may call it a “schnozzola” every now and then.
That’s my feeling on the issue. The couple I mentioned in the OP don’t sometimes use the word pee-pee – that’s the only word they want their son to know (for now). I don’t fear slang, so if my kid wants to call it a pee-pee or wangdoodle or trouser snake, I don’t really care (yet), but he or she’s not going to be ignorant of the word “penis.”
I’ll be more than happy to use the word “poop” as well – in fact, I expect that’s what we’ll call it – but the kid will also know that “bowel movement” is another word for the same thing.* As for why I don’t think “poop” is as silly-sounding as “pee-pee,” well, I don’t actually know.
*When I was a wee lad, I called pee and poop “bubbles and chunks.” Apparently I made the term up. I also knew “urine” and “bowel movement,” though.