Freshman Girls Learn About Misogyny

I was standing out in left field in a patch of sandburs, hoping the softball would never come anywhere near me. There wasn't much danger, as there were only ten of us freshman girls and none of them appeared to have much more knowledge of the game than I did--which was zero. And even if the ball did happen to roll into my space I didn't know what to do with it. Throw it somewhere, I supposed, but where? As I had never thrown anything any farther than about 20 or 30 feet, I was absolutely no threat the runner.

Also, I was bored. Physical Education class was required by the state for freshman girls, but apparently no one required us to have a coach or any equipment. I think one of the girls had brought the softball and bat from home. She needn't have bothered. That was our first and last attempt to play. Thank God.

The first day of PE class we all suited up and went into the gym where we expected to find a teacher waiting. No one there. We stood around wondering what to do for a while, then the door opened and the principal, Mr. Wilson, walked in. He was a fat man and looked nothing like a coach should look. He lined us up and taught us some stuff about putting one hand on our right hip and looking to the right on command. Then he had us all lie on the floor with our feet toward him and do some leg exercises while he walked back and forth looking up our shorts. Then he left. That was our PE training for the year.

As we had no equipment or coach, we mostly just sat around talking or doing homework. Once there was a volleyball net up in the gym and a squishy volleyball lying around, so we attempted to play, but it's hard to do justice to the game with a half-flat ball. Once a friend of mine showed us that she could stand on her head. That was exciting.

The boys had a good basketball team, though, all the equipment they needed, and a great coach. They wore pretty gold uniforms and had warm-up suits with long pants and long sleeved jackets. The coach's wife was the home economics teacher, which was a blessing for him and his team. You see, the freshman girls were required to take home economics, so the teacher volunteered us to press the boys' warm-up suits in between games. God, did they stink! They weren't so bad until we slid a hot iron onto them. Then the fumes rolled up into our faces and we tried not to breathe. But the boys always looked spiffy in those suits.

And the freshman girls got to sit on the sidelines with the other girls during the basketball games and cheer for the well coached boys.

Go, team!