Dodgeball Epiphany

I felt like writing this today.  Not quite sure why, but I did read an article about Dodgeball being bad for kids and then I saw a joke T-shirt that said, "Dodgeball:  America's Twist on Stoning."

I realized that I am grateful that we had Dodgeball in P.E.  But not for the reasons that a P.E. Teacher would hope.

I won't go into a whole story about being the Last To Be Picked in P.E.  I suspect that everyone feels like they were the last, but a vast majority of us were somewhere in the middle.  Not everyone can be the Last To Be Picked.  I wasn't the last to be picked.  I certainly wasn't the first.  I was in the bottom half when it was Boys/Girls.  If it was only Girls, I was in the top half.  So, I had all the anxiety of waiting to be picked and hoping it wouldn't be too bad a placement. 

Anyway, back to Dodgeball.

It was 7th grade in Durham.  My parents were in a strange place in terms of their relationship.  My mother was in her first year of college.  We'd left Keene and moved to Durham and I was in Junior High.  Not a great time to switch schools. 

The 'Rents were looking around to buy a house and I had been insisting that we stay in Durham.  I didn't want to switch schools again. 

But, in reality, I didn't like Oyster River Jr. High.  I just didn't know it.

But, you know how it is, you tell yourself this is the way it is.  You live with it without thinking too much about the situation.  I'm not hugely big into analysing my own emotions.  I'm more more of an accept things at face value kind of person and usually trot along just fine. 

I thought I had friends, but it was more like an association of people on the outskirts of popularity who banded together out of necessity.  The popular cliques were a bit merciless in their tormenting.  But I stayed under the radar as much as possible, grouping with the other outsiders like a school of fish avoiding a hunting party of sharks.

Popularity at this school was primarily based on physical/sport skills and feathered hair.  I wasn't completely incompetent at sports, but my popularity in Keen was based on me being a smart band geek.  And my hair did not feather.  I actually blame my mother for this since she didn't believe in things like hairspray.  I didn't know hair wouldn't feather without it. 

So, back to Dodgeball.

The 'Rents were having a hard time finding a house to buy in Durham due to the cost of homes.  They were considering other near-by towns.  But I was not happy.  I didn't want to switch school again. 

It was PE day and were inside the gymnasium playing Dodgeball.  Dodgeball was definitely a game where cliques had advantages and being an outsider did not.  Cannon Fodder is a surprisingly accurate term why I'd be picked for a team.

There aren't many moments in my life where I've achieved a higher state of consciousness.  One might attribute this to my lack of self-introspection.  But, as I was standing there, being pummeled by red rubber balls, a sunbeam came through one of the chainlinked windows (prevents balls from breaking glass).  Then I had a moment where my brain spoke very clearly to me.

"I hate this.  I hate all these people.  I really hate them.  I think I'd rather take my chances on the unknown than come back to this school with these horrible people."

I went home that night and told The 'Rents that I wanted to leave Durham and that house-hunting in another town would be fine.

So, we found a nice house in Dover, which was a much better town with a good band and a good brainy band geek clique. 

I sometimes think about that Moment of Clarity.  I'm not sure it would have happened had we not been playing Dodgeball. 

So, keep Dodgeball in PE class.  I can lead people down the path of self-discovery.