An excursion on exertion

I have creative writing class twice a week.  Each day of class we are to come with a written "excursion" - 3-5 rough pages of thoughts and responses to a prompt.  Once a week we are to write a somewhat polished paragraph of non-fiction, fiction, and a poem that springs from something covered in the free-write.  I am resolved to post these "excursions" weekly, before I get back a grade and lose my nerve.  Feedback is always appreciated.  :)

Today I wrote almost five pages on gym class.  And I could have written more.  There are many memories.  Please be warned that I may have taken some liberties with the non-fiction, and I am by no means pleased with the fiction.   And I'm not a poet.

Poetry - catalogue poem

Gym Class

Sweatpants and sneakers,

balls and bats,

ropes and cones,

whistles and shrieks,

gasping breaths and screams of glee.

But not for me.

Fear

Embarrassment

Misery

Not everyone loves gym class. 

Nonfiction

Mrs. A

Everyone in the school called her Mrs. A and had since elementary school when Abrahamsen was too hard to say.  Looking back, I feel like surviving Mrs. A's gym class was some sort of rite of initiation. Proof that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  But this may be just my opinion, for I was among the minority - one of the timid, unathletic students for whom Mrs. A had little patience and less understanding.  Or at least, that is what I remember.  She was big and loud and never seemed to enjoy what she was doing, which makes a lasting impression on a child. Gym class always lasted a short eternity for me.  Every moment, I was consumed with fear, not just of the balls flying around me, but of suddenly earning a sharp reprimand from Mrs. A for some unintentional misdemeanor.  Though it's been years since she was last my gym teacher, whenever I see her, or hear her voice, or come close enough to smell her familiar scent, the old fears come back and I feel like a trembling six year old again.  

Fiction

It'll make you stronger

Deborah Johnson taught elementary school gym class at a little Christian school once a week. The principal had asked if she would be willing.  It wasn't for pay, but he didn't often ask favors and she had been looking for a way to serve.  Teaching a gym class fit her well.   Although she sent her children to the school, she was always vaguely distrustful of the strong emphasis the school put on the importance of academics even for such young students.  That wasn't the way she was raised.  So although teaching gym once a week wasn't a huge commitment, she was proud of her service because it gave the children a chance to let loose.  She couldn't begin to understand the children who would rather be back in the classroom, or behind a book somewhere.  Her four boys thrived on athletics.  Children need a little aggressive competition sometimes.  It won't kill them; it'll make them stronger.  She believed that, and she acted on it.