I relate to that notion of "status humiliation" and many of the examples cited below.
Like some other remarked, when I was in elementary or junior high school and going to the swimming pool with the school, we got "collective lockers": basically big rooms for males and big rooms for females, where we had to change to and from our swimming suits. In contrast the teachers had individual changing booths.
I suppose that the regular changing booths would not be enough if entire classes wanted to change at the same time. Still, having your own individual changing booth is a status symbol.
Similarly, on a school trip, the teachers got individual bedrooms and the students one big dorm. Again, I suppose it is a question of cost.
In my elementary school, the pupils had squat toilets like this one:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:French_Squatter_Toilet.jpg
On such toilets, females, as well as males having a bowel movement, have to squat quite unstably on the white feet marks. I was told it's a good position to help a bowel movement, but it's sure uncomfortable. Furthermore, there was a single dispenser of toilet paper, at the restroom entrance, so you better not forget to take the right amount.
In contrast, the teachers had their own private seat toilet, the kind that everybody had at home.
I reckon squat toilets need less maintenance and can be cleaned more easily (I think you just hose them).
Now for more serious things.
At home, we used rectal temperatures. As soon as a child was old enough, perhaps 5 (not sure, maybe more), he or she would be told to take his or her own rectal tmperature under bed covers. Our parents did the same. THAT was equalitarian.
However, for reason that I don't quite know, my mom continued inserting suppositories long after I started taking my own temperature. I don't think popping a suppository in is more difficult than a thermometer. But maybe it was to check that I truly took it. (My mom had a whole protocol for medicated suppositories: I first had to try to have a bowel movement, then came the suppository, then came a sanitary pad in my briefs, in case of leaks. I felt "diapered", again, humiliating.)
Adults tended to speak about us children and our personal issues quite freely. My mom could for instance discuss my personal health issues with her sister, including the embarrassing parts (more on that below).
I recall being with my mom at a pharmacy, the clerk helping us shouted to somebody in the back "HEY DO YOU HAVE SOANDSO SUPPOSITORIES FOR CHILDREN". Everybody in the room heard that, including a little girl from my school who giggled. I strongly doubt they did that for adult medicine, out of respect for the privacy of patients (I don't imagine them shouting "HEY DO YOU HAVE SOANDSO VAGINAL SUPPOSITORIES? YOU KNOW THE ONES FOR THRUSH").
One of the worst episodes was when I got digital rectal exams for suspected appendicitis (one at home from our general practicioner, one at the hospital from somebody I assumed was the surgeon). Neither bothered to tell me "I will put my finger into your bottom", I was just told that they would feel me and that I should say if it was painful. Neither my mom told me so, even though I saw her talk with the G.P. before - she knew what was going to happen (I even think the G.P. asked her for vaseline). So I was "taken by surprise". Again, would they do a rectal exam to an adult without at least bothering to explain in what the exam consists before doing it?
I can understand that a child could not choose on such issues, but at least I could have been informed. I was something like 9, perfectly able to understand "finger in the bottom", thank you.
Another example. My cousin was diagnosed with phimosis and my mom feared I could have the same issue. Her solution? Have me disrobe in front of my aunt so that she and my aunt (my cousin's mother) could check whether my situation was comparable to his. And after my cousin got circumcised, my aunt had him show the result to my mom (!). I was luckier, I only had to put up with some checks from my mom (not much dignified either).
This was all the more vexing that my mom was cautious, even paranoid, about her own dignity. For instance, if she was to pee behind a bush (during a hike or long road trip), she would post us (my father and the children) as watchmen to check whether passersby could see her. She was apparently totally persuaded that any person, and more particularly any male, passing by, would be automatically interested in seeing... er... whatever you see when a female pees while squatting (not much). But at the same time she saw no problem in having me disrobe and show my genitals.