How I Failed Gym Class - Sandy's Mondays

The Whisperer of the Abyss:
Sandy’s Never-Ending Monday Rants - Journal Entry 3

Fiction that's based on real life.  All names were changed, just in case. 

How I Failed Gym Class 

It happened eons ago - decades for sure, back in grade school.  

Was gym my favourite class? No! I loathed the gym.

My authority figures at home injured my spine because they loathed my existence (they said it to my face every year I lived with them), causing my spine to fuse and limit my movement, causing missteps and other problems. Back at school, I had all the effects of a fused spine, but I got my x-ray done decades later as this issue worsened.  

During gym classes, I sat down on the bench because my authority figures at home never purchased the school gym shirt or clothes. At that time, I had two pairs of pants & socks and three shirts. Without a gym shirt or proper gym clothes, the gym teacher asked me not to participate. 

I remember the authority figures from home yelling at the poor gym teacher that they would not spend twenty dollars on some lousy shirt. 

The next day, my peers brought their used gym clothes to the class so that I would have a gym shirt - this meant me participating in gym class and having back pain. Immediately, I refused the used clothing only because I was perfectly okay gym-free. 

No gym participation meant having calm fifty minutes before the daily storm at home. 

The relentless gym teacher announced that my peers in my supposed group failed the class because of me. My peers' faces turned bright red as they glared at me with hate, and that's how the war started. I knew that the gym teacher used a manipulation technique.

One time, the gym teacher asked me to participate regardless of gym clothes - it made no sense. Why fine-tune the whole class against me and then let me participate?

Everyone had to do high jumps, and the gym teacher sent me to the left-handed side of the class, where two of my peers lined up. The rest were right-handed. I found myself in a comfortable place because I already had no partners during group projects (due to angered peers from gym class). 

Memories flooded of me holding utensils with my left hand as I ran for the jump. My back pain radiated, and I lost balance due to a misstep. Fearing to fall, I stopped right before the jump to balance. 

After a few do-overs with the same result - 10 cm high jumps, the gym teacher gave up, and I won. 

My peers got one metre jumps, and one jumped two metres. Good for them. 

Two things happened that day. One, I knew I was left-handed and two, I absolutely and positively disliked jumping. 

Did I hate the gym teacher? No, I never thought of that teacher - not even during that class.

By the end of that year, the gym teacher gave my peers in my group their points back. I was relieved because no one was failing because of me. 

I did not mind failing gym because I still passed grade five. Next year though, we had the same gym teacher - she taught grades five and six. 

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