Filling a gap

I have this memory of something called 'gym' at primary school. Gym happened on a particular day at a particular time and my mother knew about it. She knew about it because it required special equipment. Specifically, it required 'gymshoes'. Forgetting your gymshoes was evidence (should it be required) of a possibly neglected child. That's why my mother knew about it.

I don't remember too much of the details of the gym class. I did develop a firm and intense hatred of gym as my career progressed to secondary school but can't trace it's precise origins which must have been at primary school.

One activity I do recall involved running round and round the hall on the instructions of the gym teacher. Gym teachers at that time had special qualities possibly related to some unfortunate experience they had as a child or perhaps some military training. They have since been replaced by more balanced individuals called 'physical education' teachers.

Very so often, our random running in the gym was interrupted by a word shouted by the gym teacher. On hearing this word, we were required to stop running and BE the word. Instantly. Or suffer great humiliation.

So, for example, DOG might be shouted and I would find myself on al fours making my own barking and growling noises or hanging out my tongue, panting. Only later did I realise that I could have engaged in other dog actions which would have been acceptable in the canine world but less so in polite human society. It was primary school so I guess the gym teacher thought she was on safe ground.

The mayhem of a class of barking dogs ceased on the command 'RUN'. We duly ran and waited for the next word.

One of those words was TREE. So we became a forest of flaying branches with our feet rooted to the floor. We were glad of the rest.

I never understood the purpose of this activity until this morning. Over fifty years later, I filled a gap in the tree line. I became a tree.

Who says education lacks relevance?