Plan B, F-bombs and open classes: the challenges of teaching high school phys ed

They say that those who can’t teach, teach phys ed. But media portrayals aside, it’s not as simple as you might think. Here are a few things I learned about teaching physical and health education in my three weeks of practice teaching at a small, rural high school:

• When it comes to class space, phys ed teachers are incredibly accommodating. It’s not just because they’re nice people — they really don’t have any choice about it. Besides being the place where phys ed usually happens, high school gymnasia are treated like common real-estate within the school and often repurposed for a variety of school-wide functions: photo day, photo re-take day, school assemblies, awards ceremonies, blood donation drives… This happened twice in the three weeks I was on placement. In spring and fall, this isn’t much of a problem since most classes are outside anyway, or can easily be moved outdoors. In winter, though, it takes a little more creative problem-solving. It’s hard to imagine how a music, drama, science, geography or English teacher would handle being told that their classroom just wasn’t going to be available to them for the day, but phys ed teachers are just expected to accept this and make alternative arrangements. And they do, because they really are nice people.


• Teaching phys ed is like dancing a carefully choreographed ballet with the other phys ed teachers in the school. Because there were three phys ed classes running at any given time during the day and only one gym, all three phys ed teachers had to plan out the order and timing of their semesters together. When one class was in the gym, another would be in the fitness room, and the third in the classroom. (Sometimes the gym would be bisected and two classes would share it, but there’s only so many activities you can do with 20 kids in half a gym.) All three classes were coordinated to finish any given unit on the same day (units were typically seven days), so they could rotate together into the next space. Think your class needs an extra day or two in the classroom to finish your sex ed unit because your students took longer to understand the menstrual cycle than you thought they would? You’ll have to negotiate that with the teacher who’s waiting behind you to get into the classroom, or do your condom demo from the gym floor, or just not teach it at all and move into your next activity unit. I can’t think of any other subjects where teachers have to coordinate their use of space so carefully.


• Phys ed, like drama, visual arts, business, tech, parenting courses and the like, are “open”. This means that students from any stream, whether they are workplace, college or university bound, take these courses together. While there are lots of reasons why this is socially beneficial, this is particularly challenging to the teacher. (Yes, I recognize that this type of open classroom is what elementary teachers deal with every day; I still reserve the right to find it challenging.) I love that phys ed’s activity-based curriculum can let our beleaguered kinesthetic learners and struggling academics shine, but this has the effect of masking a lot of learning differences until the first health unit assignment or test gets turned in. This isn’t an insurmountable challenge, but one that I’d never considered before, and I haven't yet figured out how to handle it to my satisfaction.


• Compounding differences in academic ability is the fact that many health units cover topics that elementary school teachers find either difficult or unimportant to teach — like sexual and reproductive health, nutrition, fitness, mental health, drugs and addiction. This poses a particular challenge with grade 9s, who come with a wide range of prior knowledge, despite the fact that they are supposed to have covered these topics in elementary school. It’s hard to cover an entire unit in seven days when you spend the first two shoring up prior-learning knowledge gaps.


• There are also some issues around language. The first is profanity. Take two parts physical exertion and one part competitiveness, combine with a jigger of adolescent hormones, and you’ve got yourself an F-bomb cocktail. I think that putting a complete ban on profanity in phys ed class is a losing battle — there are many more constructive ways to use my energy — but I’m baffled by the lack of internal filters in so many students. It’s one thing to drop an F-bomb when you miss an easy goal or take a hockey stick in the shins, but to let them rip in everyday speech is another. Don’t get me wrong, I can swear like a sailor, but I never would have used that kind of language in the classroom, and certainly not within earshot of a teacher or parent. How have language standards changed so much for today’s teens? As adults, they will have to filter profanity from their speech — most of them can expect it to be disallowed in their eventual workplaces. Now would be a good time to start practicing, even if they can see no other reason for self-censoring. 
  


• Finally, given that there are a lot of balls and sticks in phys ed, it can be incredibly hard to talk about basic sporting equipment without having someone turn it into a dirty joke. Navigating the line between funny ha-ha and funny-awkward isn’t hard, but teenagers just never get tired of it. As an adult, on the other hand (Jason Segel’s balls notwithstanding), I… no, wait, nevermind, jokes about balls are always funny.