Ugh, Biology, man. It promises so much yet delivers so little.
'Come and learn about the human body, and let us take some time to discuss sex, and maybe watch some videos.'
Disappointment, all the way. I remember sitting in high school biology watching the same videos of toads humping that I'm sure everybody does, or looking at the same projected images of hairy women taken in the 1970s that are still supposed to teach us about the human body. I was annoyed when I got to college to find out they use exactly the same videos.
Fail, big time. If I had my way, things would be different. Radically different. Of course I had a radical teacher during my first semester at college, I trusted his methods implicitly and I was more than happy to follow his lead in all classroom situations. Take this one time when I spent a day as a teaching assist for him at a different college to get extra credit...
There was only one class that day so it looked like an easy job to boost my grade. I turned up looking all teachery and smart in my subtle green business suit and black four inch heels at 8 a.m. on the button, and spent five boring hours loading slides of hairy 70's dudes and chicks and humping toads into a projector. There was to be a slide show, a talk on gender difference, climaxing with a close-up camera view of a live toad's testicles. Reading the itinerary I was bored right away, and for the good of the students I protested to the Professor immediately.
"Professor Adams, I must say that there has to be a more engaging way to teach biology than to project images of toads boning onto a white board. Also, the close-up of the poor toad's penay must contravene a number of animal dignity laws in the local and national area."
Professor Adams huffed a short laugh and fixed me a look with his blue eyes. He was a handsome, bearded man of medium height with a good body and soft hands, and was highly regarded among the females on campus for his humpability, but those eyes did something to me when he fixed them onto me in just the right way. I'm sure you know what I mean. He smiled and shook his head.
"This is the way we do it Jenna. It may not be perfect but it's what we do. How would you have us teach this stuff?"
He fixed me with those eyes.
"Well I don't know." I said, "But some more radical means than this. I didn't learn anything from these lessons."
There was a brief, flirtatious look in his eye. "Well how did you learn?"
I held my nerve under his piercing eyes and calmed the butterflies in my stomach. "Practical experience."
He smiled and winked and motioned towards the door, so I grabbed a box of slides and headed out in front of him.
The classroom was just like every classroom you have ever seen. It was stark white with florescent lighting and blue chairs all facing the front of the room where a row of tables stood, brown wooden tops help up by gray metal legs. Jesus God, even the tables were boring. I loaded the slides into the projector in the center of the room and took my seat along the side as the students filtered slowly in. I was pretty nervous I have to admit, I smiled at some of them and they smiled back. Guys, girls, pretty much everybody looked bored already.
When everybody was seated, The Professor stood up to address them.
"Class. Welcome to biology. Today we will be augmenting our understanding of the human body and sexuality, but we shall begin by discussing physical differences made by your genetic make up. We will be aided in this by my assistant, Jenna."
He motioned towards me and the class turned, I smiled and looked around at the sea of unfamiliar faces staring at me, some were smiling but most were apathetic. He clicked the projector button to reveal the first picture of a hairy naked woman and the class groaned in unison.
"Oh come on guys," he said, "It's not that bad. At least you have pictures, I had to learn with cartoons." He paused then reiterated his point. "Cartoons! It ruined the Saturday morning funnies for me forever."
A smattering of laughter rippled around the class, my smile caught his eye and he motioned to me.
"Jenna, come here for a minute sweetie."
I went to the front of the class and stood next to him. The sea of faces looked vast and real and I felt exposed and the butterflies in my stomach started fluttering again. Professor Adams placed his hand on the small of my back and pushed me forward a little so I was just in front of him.
"Okay, genetics. Look at Jenna here. How do you think that Jenna's genetics have shaped her?"
He paused and looked around the class, there was no response.
"Okay, well looking at her we can say that her genes have been very kind." I smiled, he continued. "They gave her that graceful nose and gorgeous smile, those dark chocolate brown eyes, and her brown hair – if that indeed is the natural color I mean..."
A chuckle rippled through the class again and I looked around at him, those eyes were twinkling.
"Why Professor, whatever do you mean?" I asked coyly and fluttered my eyelashes at him. The class laughed. I felt 30-odd pairs of eyes looking at me and a cold shiver worked it's way up my spine. The Professor continued.
"Hair, eyes, skin color, bone structure, body shape. Everything is down to genetics, and in this case..." he motioned to me, "...I think we can give genetics a round of applause for a job well done."
The class clapped their hands, and some guys whooped. I felt embarrassed and looked to the ground to hide my blushing. The Professor went on.
"Your genes control everything, make you unique, give you all of your distinguishing features. Jenna, do you have any distinguishing features?"
I panicked. "A couple..."
The class laughed at my unwitting double-entendre and somebody wolf-whistled, the Professor laughed this time too, and nodded.
"They certainly are. But yes, even...um...those...are unique. Now, if you wouldn't mind...?"
I stood there, I didn't understand. "Mind what, Professor?"
"I'm sure the class would agree that in order to fully appreciate how unique you are, it would be appropriate and helpful for us to be aware of your...distinguishing features."
I looked at the class, they looked back at me. I felt the butterflies again, but it was a slightly different sensation this time. I looked back at the Professor.
"But I..." I stopped, no words came.
I found myself unbuttoning my jacket with hands I couldn't feel. I looked down as they worked them in order - top one, middle two, bottom one - and as they slipped the jacket off over my shoulders it was as if they belonged to somebody else. Then my blouse was being unfastened in slow motion, as the buttons opened and my blouse became loose around my body, a thin honey-colored strip of skin was revealed, and the class all stared silently. The hands were mine but they were doing the will of the Professor. Soon my blouse came off and I was standing in front of the class – and the Professor – in my black lace bra. I felt cold and exposed as the eyes looked me up and down, and up again to focus on the bra and I became conscious of any any slight transparency it might have in the white lighting, and I wrapped my arms around myself. I turned to Prof. Adams.
"Radical means, remember Jenna?"
I remembered my own words, and they played around my head as I reached around and fumbled with the clasp of my bra. I covered my bare breasts with my arm and the bra slipped to the floor. Adams stepped forward to speak.
"This is much better than those slides, right? As we can see, the human body is unique and beautiful and should be enjoyed as such. Now, genetics control everything from the size and shape of Jenna's breasts to the color of her nipples..."
He broke off and looked around at me. "Jenna, show the students your nipples."
I took shallow breaths as I lowered my arm slowly and the students, male and female, stared at my bare breasts as my pink nipples became erect in the cold air. Professor Adams' talk went on for a while and I stood there the whole time with all of those eyes looking at me. The butterflies fluttered like crazy in my stomach. At the back of the class, one male student squeezed his crotch through his pants, then I noticed a couple more dotted around the room doing the same thing.
"Nipples..." the Professor announced suddenly, "...are little miracles of evolutionary development."
He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a laser pen, then traced the red dot up along my stomach and made small circles around my nipples in turn.