Chapter 32: Naked Workshop

I was sixteen years old in 1964 when I attended a weird and wonderful two-day Coming of Age conference for young adults. The Liberal Religious Youth (LRY) sponsored the event, and it took place in a Unitarian Church located in a small town about fifteen miles west of Boston.

The LRY was an independent and autonomous youth organization affiliated with the Unitarian Universalist Association. As far as church youth groups went, the LRY was unique since it was a member run organization. Leadership came from a member elected board of directors made up exclusively of kids between the ages of fourteen and nineteen years old. Adults served in an advisory capacity.

My stepfather was a Unitarian minister of a large church in central Massachusetts and he strongly suggested I attend the conference. In fact, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse: either attend the weekend event or spend the next two days cleaning the basement.

The purpose of the LRY’s weekend get together was to help educate young adolescents (like me) about sex and the changes we were all experiencing as we tried to deal with this strange thing called puberty.

I was still coming to terms with my own mixed bag of sexual experiences; my mother had molested me’ my babysitter raped me, and a gang of bullies sexually abused me. I was one confused little puppy.

The sexual assaults and molestation left my capacity for sexual feelings and sexual identity floating like wreckage on an ocean of hormones. After discovering the joys of masturbation, I thought sex was the greatest and most frightening thing in the world.

I was not sure sharing my discomfort with my peers would be helpful but it damn sure sounded like more fun than mucking out the basement. I packed an overnight bag and set out the next morning with my parents in their 1960 Ford Fairlane Town Sedan.

Two conference events stand out in my memory: The first is the “Naked Workshop” and the second is sneaking out and playing cards while smoking cigars in the church’s belfry.

When I arrived at the conference site, a large framed photograph of John F. Kennedy draped in black bunting dominated the check-in area. It had been less than a year since the assassination of President Kennedy and the nation was still in mourning.

Registration was the first order of business. I had to join one of the five clusters named after colors - a group of eight kids evenly divided between boys and girls. By the time I signed in, most of the clusters were filled and choices were limited. I took the last open seat for a boy in the Orange Cluster. For my efforts, I got a little orange circle affixed to my nametag.

After lunch, we assembled with our clusters to do our thing. Every cluster had a workshop of one kind or another. The write-up for our session was as short as it was cryptic: “Naked Workshop: An opportunity to explore the human body.” I shrugged my shoulders and assumed the workshop would be an anatomy lesson and group discussion.

It took a bit of searching to find my cluster’s gathering area; a cozy corner tucked away at the far end of the parish hall. Eight folding chairs were set out around a modest coffee table with a large orange craft paper dot in the center.

Four girls from our group were already in place sitting at the table and were chatting together. I was dismayed to see that I was the first male to check-in. I preferred to blend in rather than stand out.

Talking about sex in mixed company was bad enough. Being the only male around four very attractive coeds was frightening.

I put on my best game face and sat down across from the most beautiful girl there. I started to say hello and instead blurted out some inane comment about the weather. My opening line died a quick death as the girls ignored me.

To cover my embarrassment, I pretended to study the cup of coffee in my hands as if it was the most I enjoyable cup of coffee in the world. As I took a sip of the lukewarm coffee, one of the girls pointed and exclaimed, “Here they come.”

We turned to see three boys striding across the hall accompanied by our workshop leader, an LRY volunteer named Alex.

Alex was a college senior from Harvard and he wore a full black beard and a head of hair flying out in all directions. A black beret capped his beatnik looks. Overall, his appearance was a cross between Che Guevara and Ulysses S. Grant.

Alex had a friendly, outgoing, and confident demeanor. To help break the ice, Alex gave us each two minutes to introduce ourselves.

The cute girl I was interested in introduced herself as Susan. She had bright blue eyes and waist-length blonde hair braided in such a way that she looked like a Scandinavian fashion model.

Despite her stunning beauty, it was clear that Susan, like me, was painfully shy. When she spoke, she looked down at her hands clasped in front of her like a shield. Susan told us she was an only child and a big fan of science fiction.

When it came to be my turn to introduce myself, I ignored the others and stood up, took a deep breath and spoke directly to Susan.

“My name is Dennis and my stepdad is the minister of the First Parish Unitarian Universalist Church in Fitchburg. I’m happy to meet a girl who shares my love of science fiction; especially someone with such a beautiful smile.”

Susan blushed and gave me a quick smile before looking back down at her hands.

“It’s also nice to meet a girl as shy as I am,” I stammered as I quickly sat down, too fast as it turned out. With my butt half on and half off the seat, I lost my balance and fell off the chair.

In an instant, Susan was standing over me and helping me to my feet. She whispered, “Are you ok?”

It was my turn to blush as I nodded.

“If we’ve finished with the gymnastics, maybe we can get on with our workshop,” Alex said with a laugh.

“Welcome to the Naked Workshop. This workshop is just what the name implies. It is your opportunity to learn about the human body: Specifically the bodies of members of the opposite sex. Each of you will have one hour in private with your partner.

Girls can ask boys any questions and boys can do the same. Although the name of this program is the Naked Workshop, please understand nudity is entirely optional. You can remove as much or as little clothing as you are comfortable taking off. If you become uncomfortable with being alone with your partner, you may end the session.

You are free to ask your partner questions about their body, or their feelings. You can ask them what it is like to be a boy or girl. Your partner is free to answer or pass on any question,” Alex explained.

I listened to Alex in stunned silence as I tried to process the possibilities. To be close to a girl my age without any clothes on was both terrifying and exciting. I didn’t mind the idea of looking but was not sure I would be comfortable getting nude myself.

“This exercise is more than just a variation on the old game of I’ll-Show-You-Mine-If-You-Show-Me-Yours, it is an attempt to satisfy sexual curiosity in a safer context than the backseat of a car on Lover’s Lane. Too often one thing can lead to another as hormones take command while judgment and reason go on vacation,” Alex continued.

“There are two rules you must agree to follow if you want to take part. The first rule is everything is consensual. Nothing happens without the full consent of your partner. The second rule is that there will be no sexual intercourse - with or without mutual approval.

Now that you understand the rules and purpose of this workshop, by a show of hands how many of you want to take part?” Alex asked.

There was nervous shuffling and mummers as our cluster thought about Alex’s statement. Ever so slowly, one by one each of us raised our hands. Susan was the last to raise her hand.

One boy asked, “How do I pick a girl to be with?”

Alex looked at us as he said, “Sorry, fellows, this is lady’s choice. The girls choose and the guys get to say yes or no.”

“Susan, let’s start with you. Who do you choose as your workshop partner?” Alex asked turning his attention to Susan.

I held my breath as Susan looked at me and then studied the other three boys. I was dying inside. I had enough experience with girls to know that my social skills were abysmal. I attended a few school dances and spent the evening lined up with the other male wallflowers. I never ended up with a dance partner.

Today, among kids I did not know, I was going to try something different. I was going to pretend to have the self-confidence I lacked. In other words, I was going to fake it.

I was scared she would pick me, but I was also afraid she would pick someone else.

After the longest thirty seconds in recorded history, Susan touched my hand and said, “I choose Dennis as my partner.”

Hearing her words, I felt like I was melting as a wave of joy washed over me followed an instant later by a chilling fear, which froze in place whatever had melted. “Now what?” I asked myself as my fake self-confidence started to crumble like a sand castle at high tide.

“I, err, I accept Susan’s choice,” I stammered.

Several private rooms were located off the main function hall and since we were the first couple, Susan and I got the pick of the litter. We selected a small stateroom with a fireplace and an ornate oriental rug.

The room featured dark walnut paneling, stained glass windows, a few overstuffed chairs, and a small sofa. Alex told us he would lock the door for maximum privacy and, like any good landlord, he had the master key in the event of an emergency.

“Okay you two, the next hour is yours. Enjoy and explore,” Alex said as he closed the door, leaving Susan and I standing alone in the room that quickly filled with silence. Susan and I stood a few feet apart, and each of us waited for the other to move or speak.

I did not want this quiet moment to become an awkward barrier that would grow increasingly impossible to cross the longer it lasted. One of us had to say something. The trouble was I had no idea of what to say. Then I remembered my stepfather’s advice. “If you find yourself at a loss for words, ask the other person a question and then shut up and listen to their answer.”