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Beth T (BethOfAus)'s avatar

Ah, dearest Rebecca. Hilarious. And oh so familiar. I remember those little skirts! I could never do them up properly either! I already detest Mrs Y by the way. There have been some dreadful teachers over the years. Sigh…. A wonderful read. Thanks so much. 🤗🤗❤️💕

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

Ditto.

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

Oh Beth, so, I wasn't alone in my struggles with that silly skirt design, then! One thing I forgot to mention is that everything in our PE kit had to have our initials embroidered on it. I chain-stitched mine on my drawstring cotton PE bag (which Mum had made out of a remnant of fabric leftover from my bedroom curtains), and Mum did the clothes using her sewing machine. I don't know why we had to have our initials on them like that - I don't remember the boys having their initials on their sportswear. Hmmm, maybe they did.

Mrs Y was the evil swimming teacher I'd mentioned in my recent post. She was a piece of work, that one!

I had such fun writing this post, and I'm so happy you enjoyed it - thank you for kind words! I'm tickled pink with your 'hilarious', because I hoped that it would make readers laugh! 😘

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Beth T (BethOfAus)'s avatar

We had name tags with our names sewn into everything. Ah the memories.

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Bryan Padrick's avatar

Great read! Sports Days for the non-sporty (definitely me!) are hell, no matter the country!

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

LOL - thanks, Bryan! I’d have preferred a day studying than a day having to perform on the sports field, every time!

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Bryan Padrick's avatar

You could (and can!) find me in the library!

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

An excellent choice for an alternative to a sports field!

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Kerry's avatar

I wonder why PE seems to be a magnet for terrible teachers. My 7th and 8th grade (ages 13-14) teacher, Miss Ayers, was a gorgon. My stomach hurt every day before PE. I was a fast runner so of course she focused on making me climb up the scary rope and play ball games where I couldn’t really see the ball.

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

I believe there is a special place in hell for teachers who hate children....

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

Yes! There certainly should be, anyway! For the record, this teacher is the same teacher I’d mentioned in my post about swimming - although I may have given her a different fake initial.

(I change people’s names when I write about them in order to protect myself from the guilty! 🤣

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

Smart strategy…

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

Oh gosh, she sounds horrid, Kerry. Come to think of it, I can't think of any PE teachers who were nice. The boys' department had two PE teachers, and they were okayish, I think, but again, they were only interested in people who could already do the things they wanted them to do. I know my brother didn't warm to either of them.

Our PE teacher taught us biology, too, for a year. She was exactly the same kind of evil, but this time in a lab coat. We had to dissect mackerel in an early lesson - it stank as much as her teaching! 🤣

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Kerry's avatar

I think “they were only interested in people who could already do the things they wanted them to do.” is the exact issue with these teachers. They are fine for kids who don’t really need any instruction, but take personal offense at being expected to work with those who aren’t naturally drawn to a particular sport.

When my daughter, whom I homeschooled, was young, she attended lots of sports camps with an amazing coach. I was hesitant because he was a former Marine, but he was wonderful. It was revelatory to watch him encourage children, building both skills and confidence. He had an eye like a hawk for effort, persistence, or improvement. When kids failed, he responded with encouragement and specific tips. After my daughter fell spectacularly in a hurdle race, he loudly complimented her for getting up and continuing the race “even though she had grass in her teeth!” If there were more PE teachers like that, there’d be way fewer of us with a visceral horror of participatory sports.

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

Kerry, you're absolutely right, particularly the 'taking personal offence' part!

And what a wonderful coach your daughter had - he sounds amazing! LOL and kudos for the grass in her teeth. You go, girl!!! 👏

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Sharron Bassano's avatar

"I always tried to do the best I could in the difficult circumstances of being neither gifted nor interested in athletics." Just a couple minor hiccups...

"I, on the other hand, had no idea until after I’d reached the finish line that my skirt and I had parted company after only 50 metres." Priceless! Is it funny in hindsight, Rebecca? Or still an embarrassment? This reader finds it painfully hilarious. My heart is with you and I curse your misbegotten dog of a "teacher".

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

Ha yes, those minor hiccups! 😂

There was such a paradox at school, and I never quite understood it. With academic subjects, if we got things wrong or didn’t know how to do them, well, we’d be taught to do them, and that’s how of course we learned, but in PE lessons it seemed that if you couldn’t do something or didn’t know how to, well, that was your problem. Hang on, I’m doing Mrs Y a disservice - we did have a total of two lessons in a classroom during which she drew some Xs on a blackboard to show us what a ‘short corner’ and ‘long corner’ were in hockey.

And yes, the skirt story IS hilarious in hindsight! Oh gosh, that stupid thing - whoever runs in a SKIRT anyway? Bonkers idea for a school PE kit. I remember for high jump we all had to tuck our skirts into our knickers so as not to knock the stupid bar off. 🙄

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Mary B's avatar

I'm still laughing, Rebecca, reading all the comments. Just love this.

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Sue Cauhape's avatar

These school-wide competitions are such a pain. Every year in grade school, we had a marble tournament for the boys and hopscotch for the girls. We all had our own hoppy-taws with which we played hopscotch at home on the sidewalk with our friends ALL THE TIME. But here was a tournament. A competition. I can't stand the word, frankly, because I always come in last. And, of course, as the first round finished, my name was left off the board. Why bother? No, we all had to experience this life skill of learning how to lose. For pete's sake, my Dad did a good job of that already by trying desperately to teach me chess.

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

Ugh, the whole 'learning how to lose' thing - I can relate to that, especially on the sports field! The thing is, there was always people who were fast/accurate/fit/talented/experienced, and those who weren't. Now, that's fine - cos we're all different - but it strikes me as absolutely crackers that we weren't taught or encouraged or shown or trained or in any way facilitated to find either prowess or pleasure in anything sporty. You had to already be sporty in order to qualify for any attention in PE or at Sports Day! Unless you allow your clothes to fall off on the track, of course, in which case you get laughed AND shouted at! 🤣

LOL re chess - I'm not much of a strategist, and am far too easily distracted for it to appeal. My brother used to play it at school, but it was never really my thing.

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Sue Cauhape's avatar

I deeply hate anything competitive. When competition rears its ugly head in any kind of activity, my eyes glaze, my ears close, and my brain falls into a numb reverie. During a family road trip, we found an arcade and Val and Jeff played every game in the place while i wandered around in a daze. And yet, I never really learned to cooperate either. I guess that's why writing on Substack is such a godsend. I don't even have to put up with editors. Just how narcissistic can I get, Rebecca? Meanwhile, whenever we'd visit my Dad, he and Val would play chess for hours. It was about the only thing they could do together. Her second grade teacher taught his students how to play it.

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Rebecca Holden's avatar

Cooperation is an overrated life skill, Sue! I cooperate plenty.... when it suits me! 😉

I'm extremely competitive with (against?!) myself, which is neither desirable nor a good thing. And I totally hear you! xxx

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Donna McArthur's avatar

Wow that senior PE teacher was a piece of work. It's amazing you don't suffer from PTSD after dealing with her (I hope you don't💕). It's amazing how our teachers could affect our path and, of course, our thoughts about ourselves to such an intense degree.

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Terry Freedman's avatar

It beats me how you could not know that your skirt was missing. Last year I wandered into the garden with no belt on my shorts. I hadn't realised how much weight I'd managed to shed. All of a sudden my shorts fell down, while my hands were full with bird feeders and stuff. I knew immediately, especially as there was a teenaged girl living next door. A vision of a courtroom came into my mind. "Good morning, judge." Anyway, school sports are intended to be humiliating, divisive and sadistic, with teachers to match, at least in my experience.

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Mary B's avatar

Oh, Rebecca, I chuckled out loud, laughed out loud, at this post. So very very very good. Just loved it, so much so that I'm going to share it with family members who will also chuckle at your brilliant telling of school sports. Not to minimize or dismiss the dismay of losing your running skirt-thing, but I laughed at the misfortune, not at you, mind you, just the misfortune. This post goes in the hall of fame for me. 🤣

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Gary Spangler's avatar

Hi Rebecca! When I see a new post from you, I know with complete certainty I’ll be searching diligently for the meaning of some (a lot) of your words and expressions!

Don’t get me wrong, kind British woman, I actually enjoy the word searches! “Plimsolls.” So called because of the three bands of material/color reflecting the waterline of sea going vessels. “Water above, you’re going down.” “Water on that line, even keeled.” I nearly choked to death on my dessert cookie when I searched “bog-standard!” Who hasn’t had a few of them! Sardine sandwiches, prepared on simple white bread and no good mustard to cover the sardini-ness.

I could go on, and know full well I should not! One final note: my imagination easily pictures you in your life situations as you describe them. Don’t get me wrong. Your unusual skirt and Velcro/zipper not a zipper stayed brilliantly affixed. Perhaps I have some sort of visualizing censor. So glad it worked this time!

Last, Rebecca, I genuinely look forward to your posts. Witty, dare I say genius, engaging. You know who you are, so I’ll leave it at that! 😊

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