Each year in February and June, school would organize “sports day”.
An event which would keep me nervous all year.
Sport at school wasn’t about becoming healthy.
It was about competition.
If you weren’t good at it, you’d never be acknowledged.
Not just by your classmates. By teachers too.
June was worse than February.
The warm weather would give teachers the fantastic idea to organize it at a swimming pool
Not only I was afraid to be judged in old fashion swimming suit my mum would get me, the boys in my class got their hormones pretty early.
My friend and I were equally nervous about it.
We prayed it would be terrible weather, so the whole thing would be canceled.
We even thought of what would be least painful way to break an arm or leg.
No matter how much I cried to my parents and said how much this frightens me, they were convinced a little exercise is never bad.
The days before that 15th of June, it remained warm and sunny.
My attempt to fall of the stairs failed when my dad stopped me.
Worst of all, my friend got her period for the first time, so she was allowed to skip this one.
The whole day was just one terrible experience and left a scar on my heart and the way I would look at myself for the next few years.
Only because adults thought they were doing the right thing.
I am not a teacher nor parent, so I might not have any right of speech of how difficult this job is.
Yet, sometimes it’s not a bad thing to actually listen to the child’s fear and not push them to edge.
Especially when puberty, which is difficult enough phase, is around the corner.