This summer I counseled at a junior high girls’ camp my church runs. My girls were awesome and my co-counselor was great, so we had a wonderful time. We were in an actual cabin, which means we were encased in plywood. The heat was sticky and omnipresent. But that was okay. I only hated one thing about the cabin: on one of the bunk beds, some meatball had written, with white paint, “Had a wet dream here.”

Most of the girls didn’t notice. The two who did laughed it off. “We’ll just call that the ejaculation bunk.” That comment disturbed me as much as, if not more than, that nasty little graffiti itself. These were thirteen- and fourteen-year-old girls. They should have been confused, not amused.

Did you realize that in this country, innocence is going the way of the passenger pigeon and gentlemen’s politics? If you didn’t, how could you have missed it?

Okay, now I’m going to rant and rave for a bit. Cover your ears, if you think it’ll help.

Our culture acts like virginity is something to ashamed of. Not! Lack of virginity is shameful! (Before marriage, naturally.) Homeschooling families are vilified for “sheltering” their children. When did protecting your little ones become a bad thing? Experienced, world-weary adventurers are cool—dewy-eyed youngsters are laughable. Okay, I do like Indiana Jones a lot, but why can’t we have a cool, popular movie that celebrates innocent idealism? (I know I’m going to get lots of comments pointing out movies exactly like that. Whatever they are, I know they aren’t as popular as Indy, or Titanic, or a hundred other blockbusters that put procreation on a pedestal.)

Be different. That’s all I ask. Protect your innocence, and that of the people around you.

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