I finally had the chance to see Juno this weekend after practically everyone has told me to go see it. Although I was miffed that I already heard all of the funniest lines on the commercials (but isn’t that always the case these days?), I found it to be a great movie and very different from the typical teen pregnancy morality tale. (Spoiler alert: I reveal some key plot points here, so if you haven’t seen it, go see it, and then come back and read this blog.)
http://www.youtube.com/v/K0SKf0K3bxg&rel=1<\/embed><\/object><\/div>";” />Unlike the after school special genre I grew up on, this pregnant teen is not a “bad girl” or pariah—she is, after all, the character we are encouraged to most identify with. She is not the pregnant teen we have seen on Jerry Springer, Montel, or years ago on Ricki Lake, boldly promiscuous and claiming that she got pregnant on purpose, as the audience boos mercilessly.
Juno instead is everygirl, the girl who feels slightly out of place in high school (who doesn’t?) and finds the whole situation of adolescence a bit absurd. She is wise enough to know she lacks the maturity to be a mother or to make some of the decisions she now must make, but naïve enough to tell the infertile Jennifer Garner character (and potential adoptive mom) that she’s lucky not to be pregnant.
Juno isn’t the happy-go-lucky sexaholic many teens are portrayed as either. When she is offered flavored condoms at an abortion clinic by teen working at the reception desk, a repulsed Juno tells her she’s “kind of off sex now.”
We see her deal with the judgmental stares of adults and peers at school and with an off-handed insult by a health care worker as she gets her first ultrasound. This film definitely does not make light of the fact that she is sixteen and pregnant, even if it does have its funny moments. Though the funny ads for the movie suggest otherwise, there are as many tears as laughs. Her pain is particularly evident after she gives birth and knows she won’t see the baby again. She weeps uncontrollably as the baby’s father holds her in the hospital.
I was surprised at first that her sort-of love interest, Paulie Bleeker (the father of the baby) isn’t a bigger part of the film. Played by Michael Cera of Superbad and Arrested Development, I thought for sure his great comic timing would be more central to the movie.
But this is part of the beauty of the film—he’s not pregnant, and his life apparently isn’t affected too much. Juno’s father is obviously angry when he finds out who got his daughter pregnant, but he’s also a little impressed. “I didn’t think he had it in him,” he says of the pale, skinny boy.
When she tells first Paulie, he does ask her “what do we do?” and seems to be supportive (and totally freaked out). But she convinces her parents not to tell his, and as her belly grows she reminds him that she is the one who has to deal with the stares and insults, not him. Juno doesn’t even tell him when she goes into labor because he has a track meet that day.
In fact, the only time a classmate mentions to Paulie that he heard he is the father of the baby, he seems impressed. The equally scrawny classmate comments that he will stop wearing underwear to improve his sperm count.
The truth is, when teenage girls get pregnant, they are the ones who bear not just the child, but the scorn of those around them and the broader society. Girls are the ones who get called “sluts” or “whores.” The boy fathers might instead be called "players” or “studs." Promiscuity is largely seen as a female stain; but remember that while females have more to lose by getting pregnant, they can’t get themselves pregnant.
In contrast to this movie, most babies born to teen girls are fathered by adult men, so “teen pregnancy” often involves an adult too. Teen girls are highly sexualized by the society (and adults) around them. The modeling industry, for example, relies on barely pubescent girls told to pout for adult (mostly male) photographers and sexy becomes
defined as looking as young as possible.
But as Juno reminds us, teens are more than just naïve victims of the culture and society around them. As Janis Prince Inniss blogged about a few months ago, teen pregnancy rates are significantly lower than they were in past decades (despite a small increase in the last year data were available). Abortion rates have declined to their lowest level since 1974, and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has found that teens are less likely to be sexually active compared with the 1990s (about 54% of high school students had sex in 1991 compared with 48% in 2005). When they are they are much more likely to use condoms (up from 46% in 1991 to 63% in 2005).
Even so, we have a much higher teen pregnancy rate in the U.S. compared with other industrialized nations (a topic for another blog), and getting pregnant at sixteen isn’t a great idea. Juno shows us why without being too preachy or requiring the girl to constantly suffer for her mistake.

No matter how much we might like to think otherwise, gender is central to the way people view presidential elections in particular and authority more generally. Part of Hillary Rodham Clinton’s challenge is to somehow seem to adhere to our gendered expectations while defying them at the same time.