Do junior high boys even have P.E. class anymore? I wonder. It’s too bad if they don’t especially with the number of kids I see going down the street every day on their way to school who are obviously overweight and out of shape.
Growing up in Tampa, Florida in the late 50’s and early 60’s we definitely had Jr Hi PE. Everyday. Outside. Unless it was raining or too cold (a relative term in Tampa).
Seventh grade hit in August, 1963. I had PE that year in the afternoon (fortunately I had a class between lunch and PE so the “beanie weenies” had a chance to settle down and start working their way through my system).
The first day of PE was an orientation for those of us in the 7th grade featuring our instructor Coach Solomon (rumored to have been a Marine DI) and Head Coach Escobar—a large, round, bald-headed, nut-brown Cuban. Coach Escobar did most of the talking and he had a unique way of talking. For one thing he bit off many of his words and never pronounced the “s” at the end of a word.
Here’s the opening of his standard, first day of school lecture: “Girl,” he’d say, “You got to dress out every day. You got to wear your sock, your jock and your tenna choo. You get 2 point every day you dress out. If you don’ wear your sock, you lose one point. If you don’ wear your jock, you lose one point. If you don’ wear your tenna choo, you lose one point.”
And someone would invariably ask, “But coach isn’t that losing 3 points?” Coach Escobar would respond, “You get 2 point for dressing, but no sock, no jock, no tenna choo—you can lose 3 point. Now go run 2 lap.” And the kid had to go out to the quarter mile track, in his regular clothes (because we hadn’t dressed out that day) and run 2 laps returning sweat soaked and better educated than he had been 10 minutes earlier.
We all had to wear the same black gym shorts and the same white t-shirts both emblazoned with Madison Junior High on them. Everyone looked the same. Well not really because our ages in the Junior High class ranged from 12 to 15 because it combined 7th through 9th graders together. But more on that later.
I got 2 pairs of shorts and 2 t-shirts and they lasted me all 3 years—by the time I was done with 9th grade, the shorts were grey and the t-shirts where holey. They were pretty baggy on me at 12 but by the time I was 14 in 9th grade both were getting pretty snug.
Then Coach Escobar went into the rest of his lecture. “OK girl, you got to chower after class. Everyone got to chower. If you don’t chower, you lose 1 point. And, when you chower, you got to get in there and wash out your rungi schmelli. You don’t want to go to class and get around those cute girl all you girl like without washing out your rungi schmelli.”
Now none of us dared to ask what a rungi schmelli was—it was a term we’d hear often over the course of the next 3 years—because we all had a pretty good idea what he was referring to. And by the way, Coach Escobar always referred to us as “girls” (except he pronounced it girl).
What a fantastic introduction into the world of Junior High. Into the world of men. To being talked to as men. We 7th graders looked at one another, somewhat self-consciously. This was fascinating new stuff and most of us couldn’t wait to actually “dress out” the next day. But that’s another story.
Showing posts with label physical education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label physical education. Show all posts
Friday, April 3, 2009
Rungi Schmelli 2
The second day of junior high dawns. I take one pair of my new gym shorts and one of the new t-shirts along with my athletic supporter and a pair of socks and lay them inside a towel which I then rolled tight and tied with the laces of my tennis shoes. OK, I’m all ready for my first day of PE class.
The gym clothes went into my locker during homeroom and I took them out following lunch homeroom. I’d carry them with me the rest of the day. The bell rang to end my after lunch class and it was time for PE.
I raced to the boy’s locker room and proceeded to change. We had 5 minutes between classes and PE started 5 minutes after the bell rang. We had to be fully dressed and out on the field ready to go by the end of those 5 minutes. Some guys could never figure out how to be on time. I never had a problem. The PE class would end 5 minutes before the bell. We had those 5 minutes and another 5 to shower, change and make it to our next class.
And, back in the early 60’s you didn’t want to mess around with being late for class. It could be worth a trip to the office for either detention or a “pop” (which was the application of the “board of education” across your butt).
Anyway, in the locker room it seemed as though all the 7th grade boys were along one wall, the 8th graders in the middle and the 9th graders along the opposite wall. The fourth wall was a large open bay shower area with about a dozen shower heads spaced along it. I changed and managed to get out to the field well before Coach Solomon made his appearance.
PE class started with calisthenics. But before they could begin on this our first day of class, Coach divided us into 3 squads of about 10 each. Each squad had a 9th grader as a leader and there was another 9th grader who was in overall charge of leading the exercises. Keith Robbins. Rumor had it that he was almost 16 and already practice driving for his driver’s license. He was a man among boys. While we were puny, Keith was solid—and hairy. He even shaved. He popped zits on his legs while waiting for class to start. Gross, but in a manly sort of way. I didn’t have enough hair on my legs for anything to get ingrown and create a zit.
I had never done any of this before—and obviously neither had my 7th grade colleagues. And yet for me, at least, the calisthenics were easy. They were all done in unison and we were required to count each repetition off, “One, two, three, one. One, two, three, two” until we reached a 15 count of each different exercise. We did jumping jacks, windmills, squat-thrusts, rocking-chairs, push-ups, bicycles and several others whose names I forget. When “cal” was done we’d run a lap over on the track. This would take about 15 minutes and then we’d proceed to the sport we were doing during this 6 week grading period.
The way the class was set up, you could be totally un-coordinated and un-athletic and still earn a B by making sure that you dressed each day, doing well on a written test on the sport we would do each grading period and at least try during the sport’s skill test—like shooting a lay-up and free-throw.
So now, PE class is over. We’ve worked up quite a sweat. We run to the locker room (no walking allowed). We go to our baskets, unlock them and peel off our sweaty gym clothes. Now there is something like 40 or 50 naked young sweaty men trying to get into the shower.
This was the first time I had ever seen so many guys without clothes on—or any for that matter. There were a number like me—scrawny, pubescent boys, tanned from the summer just over but except for our heads, hairless. There were the 8th graders with hairy pits and "other" places. And then there were the 9th graders. Men. Some of them like Keith Robbins hairy all over. I won’t even broach the topic of the differences in “endowment” between 12 year olds and 14 year olds. Some of the kids gaped and held back. A couple of others tried to avoid showering but succumbed to the bluster of Coaches Solomon and Escobar. “Come on girl, get in and out. Everyone shower down.”
Now to bring this tale to a close, I’ve long thought that there was genius to this whole PE class thing. It was physical activity which helped get many into shape and some of us into better shape. Some of the boys had never done anything physical or athletic in their life. And it was a great equalizer. Getting sweaty in gym clothes and then naked has a way of erasing a lot of perceived status. And, everyone has a body—in junior high our bodies are going through a lot of changes—this is normal and natural. I like to think that this was just as much a goal of the class as the actual physical education.
Kids today don’t seem to have this same kind of experience. Physical education has been reduced and in some districts eliminated. Kids don’t get the level of physical activity and there certainly isn’t much expectation on them to exercise at school. That’s too bad because there’s a lot more to be learned in PE than the rules of a sport. Like, what a rungi schmelli is.
The gym clothes went into my locker during homeroom and I took them out following lunch homeroom. I’d carry them with me the rest of the day. The bell rang to end my after lunch class and it was time for PE.
I raced to the boy’s locker room and proceeded to change. We had 5 minutes between classes and PE started 5 minutes after the bell rang. We had to be fully dressed and out on the field ready to go by the end of those 5 minutes. Some guys could never figure out how to be on time. I never had a problem. The PE class would end 5 minutes before the bell. We had those 5 minutes and another 5 to shower, change and make it to our next class.
And, back in the early 60’s you didn’t want to mess around with being late for class. It could be worth a trip to the office for either detention or a “pop” (which was the application of the “board of education” across your butt).
Anyway, in the locker room it seemed as though all the 7th grade boys were along one wall, the 8th graders in the middle and the 9th graders along the opposite wall. The fourth wall was a large open bay shower area with about a dozen shower heads spaced along it. I changed and managed to get out to the field well before Coach Solomon made his appearance.
PE class started with calisthenics. But before they could begin on this our first day of class, Coach divided us into 3 squads of about 10 each. Each squad had a 9th grader as a leader and there was another 9th grader who was in overall charge of leading the exercises. Keith Robbins. Rumor had it that he was almost 16 and already practice driving for his driver’s license. He was a man among boys. While we were puny, Keith was solid—and hairy. He even shaved. He popped zits on his legs while waiting for class to start. Gross, but in a manly sort of way. I didn’t have enough hair on my legs for anything to get ingrown and create a zit.
I had never done any of this before—and obviously neither had my 7th grade colleagues. And yet for me, at least, the calisthenics were easy. They were all done in unison and we were required to count each repetition off, “One, two, three, one. One, two, three, two” until we reached a 15 count of each different exercise. We did jumping jacks, windmills, squat-thrusts, rocking-chairs, push-ups, bicycles and several others whose names I forget. When “cal” was done we’d run a lap over on the track. This would take about 15 minutes and then we’d proceed to the sport we were doing during this 6 week grading period.
The way the class was set up, you could be totally un-coordinated and un-athletic and still earn a B by making sure that you dressed each day, doing well on a written test on the sport we would do each grading period and at least try during the sport’s skill test—like shooting a lay-up and free-throw.
So now, PE class is over. We’ve worked up quite a sweat. We run to the locker room (no walking allowed). We go to our baskets, unlock them and peel off our sweaty gym clothes. Now there is something like 40 or 50 naked young sweaty men trying to get into the shower.
This was the first time I had ever seen so many guys without clothes on—or any for that matter. There were a number like me—scrawny, pubescent boys, tanned from the summer just over but except for our heads, hairless. There were the 8th graders with hairy pits and "other" places. And then there were the 9th graders. Men. Some of them like Keith Robbins hairy all over. I won’t even broach the topic of the differences in “endowment” between 12 year olds and 14 year olds. Some of the kids gaped and held back. A couple of others tried to avoid showering but succumbed to the bluster of Coaches Solomon and Escobar. “Come on girl, get in and out. Everyone shower down.”
Now to bring this tale to a close, I’ve long thought that there was genius to this whole PE class thing. It was physical activity which helped get many into shape and some of us into better shape. Some of the boys had never done anything physical or athletic in their life. And it was a great equalizer. Getting sweaty in gym clothes and then naked has a way of erasing a lot of perceived status. And, everyone has a body—in junior high our bodies are going through a lot of changes—this is normal and natural. I like to think that this was just as much a goal of the class as the actual physical education.
Kids today don’t seem to have this same kind of experience. Physical education has been reduced and in some districts eliminated. Kids don’t get the level of physical activity and there certainly isn’t much expectation on them to exercise at school. That’s too bad because there’s a lot more to be learned in PE than the rules of a sport. Like, what a rungi schmelli is.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)