The Trauma of Gym Class

While I worked at or above grade level throughout my school days, the bane of my existence was gym class.

I was the classic nerd type (which is what Aspies were called before Dr. Asperger's definition was recognized by other doctors and scientists). That is to say, I was advanced in all intellectual areas and drastically behind in physical development and coordination.

Kickball was one of many games where balls come at you seemingly randomly, although with kickball the ball was often on the ground instead of coming at you from somewhere in the air. I remember it was my turn to kick the ball, like being "at bat." So, the ball comes rolling toward me. I pull my leg back to kick it and somehow my foot goes directly OVER the ball. Everyone on my team groaned, just like they did when I was chosen for that particular team (last, as usual).

There was one ball game that I actually liked. It was called rampage, and it was a form of dodge ball, which I hated. The only thing worse than a ball randomly coming at you is a ball deliberately thrown at you as hard as possible. Revenge for kickball, I usually assumed.

Anyway, rampage was dodgeball but without the neat organization of a circle. Instead, kids ran around screaming like banshees in the gym. Why did I like this game? It had a rule: if you stepped out of bounds, you had to go sit on the stage. So, I would go into the game, stay away from the ball for a decent interval, deliberately step out of bounds, declare myself out of bounds, and then go sit on the stage. Boy I love those rules!

How bad was I? These were the days of the Presidential Physical Fitness challenge or whatever it was. In seventh grade, of all the tasks in that series, there was only one where I did the target number of whatever it was. I did the sit-ups.

In elementary school, they had a special ed version of gym for awhile. Looking back, I think it might have been someone's doctoral research because this didn't last real long. But it was great while it lasted.

On some days we used the music room and worked on hand-eye coordination. We followed marbles through mazes, lay on the floor as a ball on a string was swung so we could follow it, and other similar exercises. On other days we used the gym for large motor coordination. There were stations, such as a jumping rope station, and I don't remember the other stations. The point was that you worked at your station until the whistle blew. Then you went to the next station. No competition--just work at your own pace and try to get a little better than you were before. If all of gym had been like that, I would have loved it.

The last gym class I had was during summer school after tenth grade. It was a co-ed class and the competition was much less because of boys and girls playing together. Also, in the days before frequent litigation, our teachers (two coaches) would pile all 30 of us in the back of their pickup trucks and take us swimming, to play golf, or bowling. I loved the swimming and while I was no great shakes at bowling (my first score: 17; if they had given points for gutter balls I would have won) or golf, the non-competitive air made those activities fun.

The problem with gym class is like the problem with any class: the people who become teachers are people who were good at whatever it is and those folks have no idea what it is like to be bad at something. I should have become a gym teacher. I would be a good one. The problem is that I still hate the smell of gyms and couldn't stand to teach in one!