ext_6150 ([identity profile] gehayi.livejournal.com) wrote in [personal profile] charliesmum 2005-06-23 05:41 pm (UTC)

I was not only picked last, I was the one that the teams fought not to take.

"I'm not taking HER! She'll lose the game for us!"

"Well, I'm not taking her. YOU take her!"

I tended to try to sneak out of the gymnasium when this was going on. Or pleaded a sprained ankle. (Which was honest--I have weak ankles, and tended to sprain at least one ankle once a week.)

Gym made me cry a lot. I knew I wasn't any good at it (lack of small motor control, plus a leg that was already starting to go lame), but I tried so hard. Yet everyone, including the teacher, made fun of me. So much for effort being what counted. I knew THAT was a crock. Just one of the many lies that grown-ups tell kids.

Oh, and I almost didn't graduate from grammar school because I was so bad at gym. I was an A student (except for math) but I couldn't do well enough to scrape by a passing grade in gym. If my mother hadn't taken on the entire West Hartford school board, I never would have gotten past sixth grade.


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