My Grade 7 Gym Teacher

Inspiration comes in many shapes and sizes. He was a gym teacher who helped shape me into the person I am today.

From the very beginning, it was very clear that there was no nonsense with him. At our very first gym class, he worked us like race horses. By the end of the period, we were drenched in sweat. Then came the order, “Everybody into the showers.” My family was modest, very modest, yet I didn’t hesitate to obey. Today, this wouldn’t happen. I don’t think students take showers at all, yet I remember feeling fresh in class after a good workout. In fact, one teacher mentioned to the class that he preferred my coming late to class after gym, because I didn’t contribute to the stink like the others.

While this was an important moment in my life, getting over the fear of being naked in a crowd, he did something that changed my life even more.

One day he came into health class and announced to everyone that he was creating the Fat Boys’ Club. It would meet at the same time as the gymnastics club at 8 am on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Membership was not voluntary. In fact, there were only two people who were going to have the privilege of being in this club, me and Alan.

I remember the moment when my name was announced. I felt like a searchlight had been shone upon me. I wanted to escape, but there was nowhere to go. I just sat there, stunned and hiding the hurt and shame as best I could.

Dutifully, I showed up each morning at the appointed time. Alan did, too. My mom asked me why I was going so early. I mumbled something about gymnastics, not wanting to let my mom know what the truth was.

Then puberty hit.

I remember the period that he put all the mats on the floor and the whole class participated in what could be best called group sumo wrestling. Bodies were flung off the mats until there were only two people, me and Steve. Steve was one of the tough guys in the school. I, definitely, was not. However, I was a tad smarter and got him into a position where I could thrust him off the mats. Everyone stood in shock, but none more than my gym teacher. I remember just glaring at him, not in hatred, but with immense satisfaction.

For gymnastics, he decided to show us how to do a neck spring off the side horse. He needed a volunteer. Why he chose me I’m not sure. I am not good at gymnastics. I ended up in a heap on the floor. Again, I just glared at him.

I tried out for the foot ball team. He was the coach.

There were just enough uniforms for everyone, except one of the pants had two left kidney pads, which meant one protruded awkwardly from side and didn’t really do the job. I was the one who got these pants.

Our team colours were red and white, but we didn’t have enough red sweaters. Some of us had to wear blue ones with sleeveless red t-shirts over top. I was always one of those selected.

My position was substitute centre. I had to play against people who weighed at least 20 pounds more than I did. I would snap the ball and be smashed back 5 yards or so. I remember learning how to do a cross-body block. I can tell you that it isn’t very effective against tanks. I’m sure you could see the cleat marks on my sweater.

In practice, we played a game called train. Two people ran towards each other and the one with the ball was supposed to run over the other player, who was supposed to tackle the runner. I don’t know how it happened, but I always seemed to get the big guys on the team. I felt that I had to tackle wild elephants time after time. And I did, but the gym teacher didn’t approve. Something didn’t impress him, so I kept on getting more of the same, except once. Somehow Jim, the quarterback, got in the line and faced me. Being used to tackling the wild gorillas, I stuck it to him good and cracked 3 of his ribs.

Many years later at a softball team reunion, Jim told me that the gym teacher asked him if he help him understand who I was. He said he had been doing everything possible to try to get me to quit the team, but I just kept coming back for more. I refused to give up.

One day the gym teacher wasn’t at the morning football practice. The other gym teacher was. We just had a game of touch football. I caught three touchdown passes. It was obvious I was in the wrong position at substitute centre, however, nothing changed with this. We found out later my tormentor was forced to quit. Apparently he got into a little trouble with the law.

In case you wondered, Alan, the other Fat Boys’ Club member, is now a successful lawyer. I, too, have led a very interesting life.

I think a lot of people would understand if I talked about how being put in the Fat Boys’ Club destroyed me. Don’t get me wrong, it did hurt. I was humiliated in front of my classmates at an age where you are sensitive about your appearance. I chose to take that hurt and stand up and conquer it. There are times when defeat just isn’t an option. This was one of them. And I am so much stronger for the experience. You see, in life you are going to find situations where people don’t treat you well. Often, like this case, you will have no idea why. You can choose to be powerless or to do something about it, but you have to make that choice.