Ian's Column from December 2002

Wow, why am I on this reminiscing about high school kick? Well, according to my psychiatrists, the reason is threefold. One, I had a good time in high school and I live to tell about it. Two, I spin a good yarn. Three, a large number of Voorn Project readers didn’t know me in high school, and perhaps these little tales will help them understand me.

Without further ado, I present the next segment in The Saga of the Marcus High School Years:

“Adaptive P.E.”
or
“He Was Born to Shame Us All”

According to the recommended curriculum for high school students of the Lewisville Independent School District, each student was required to take three 9-week units of physical education. Now, at Marcus, each school day consisted of four classes, each 90 minutes long. This “accelerated block program” theory had students complete a full year’s worth of class in just 18 weeks. I greatly enjoyed this system, getting new classes each semester, and only having half my year devoted to English classes. A typical semester (fall senior year) included Calculus, Government, English, and Theatre.

So, back to P.E…a typical student would complete the P.E. requirements within their freshman and sophomore years. As you well know, I am no typical student. My first P.E. block was taken freshman year. I postponed the second block until junior year. The third block was reserved for the last 9 weeks of my high school career. I wasn’t the only one to wait this long. My partner in crime Rob Harvey also waited. So, after spring break 2000, we began our new class. At this point, my schedule was: Senior In (first period off), P.E., Calculus BC, and Theatre.

Rob and I specifically signed up for Adaptive P.E. with Coach Gillespy. We had had her before in other P.E. classes. Adaptive P.E. includes about 25 students plus about 10 special ed students. This added to the fun. It was amazing what some of these kids could do. I was inspired on a daily basis. Our favorite student was Ulysses, or simply Uly. He was a short, dark-haired boy with glasses. He very rarely spoke, but he had astonishing hand-eye coordination, and a good memory.

On a typical day, I would arrive at school around 10:30 for gym. I’d change into gym clothes them wait in the hall. The special ed class would come down the hall in a few minutes. Uly would spot Rob and I and run to sit next to us, usually saying nothing, but it was cool the way he’d remember us, and how much fun we were. Sometimes he’d talk with Rob about transportation (fire truck, police car, ambulance) and of course, we introduced him to the Odalis dance. He would say “Odalis” while flapping his arms like a chicken, just like Rob or Michael Ford would do.

One of our favorite games was “Mat Ball.” Very similar to kickball, Mat Ball was played in the gym with four gymnastic mats as the bases. Up to five people could be on one base, and you could circle the bases three times, and pass up other runners too. This allowed for players of differing abilities to play the same game. When Uly was up to bat and the ball was rolled to him, he would often stop it with his hands, pick it up, and drop-kick it all the way to the ceiling. Then he’d run to first, where Rob or I would be waiting. Good times.

On Mondays, we went to the Flower Mound Natatorium to swim. Uly was, as I expected, a consummate swimmer. He could tread water in the deep end with us, play with the volleyball, and even jump off the board. None of the other special ed kids were this accomplished at swimming. The majority of the class would board a bus with Coach Gillespy to drive to the Natatorium. Coach allowed me to meet the class at the pool, rather than report to the gym first. The other three seniors could drive as well, so after his first period class, Rob would drive to the pool as well. After 2nd period was over, it was about noon. We would then drive to Subway for sandwiches and bring them to Calculus class, sometimes eating them in class, much to the chagrin of Mrs. Brown and the rest of the class.

Most students take P.E. as freshmen, so I’d say about 75% of the class were underclassmen. There were a couple other seniors, like Whitney Zondor (editor-in-chief of the school paper), Jessica Warren (fellow Calculus mate), and junior Nathan Merrick (a choir/theatre boy similar to me). But the oddest of all our classmates was a freshman boy named Shamus...that's my way of spelling it. (pronounced SHAME-US. It’s an Irish name, I’m told). I don’t usually make fun of other students, but I was told Shamus had picked a fight with Uly or another special ed kid and tried hitting him. Anyone who picks on Uly better watch out, so he was fair game. First of all, he brought his books in a roll-a-board suitcase. If we saw him in the hall, we’d call to him to be sure he was on time for his flight. Man, kids can be so cruel. Shamus’ odd personality and quirks were too much. Sometimes he’d be overly aggressive playing soccer, and he’d try to kick me in the shins. Rob and I therefore determined that his parents named him Shamus because HE WAS BORN TO SHAME US ALL. I’m not sure what that meant, but it made for some entertaining times.

As last-semester seniors, God had gifted us with that great senior confidence. Naturally, Rob and I were boisterous and animated in P.E. class, while the freshmen were quiet. It was a great class.

As the semester wound down, I stopped bringing a backpack to school. There was no use, really. I literally had no assignments. Sometimes, I would only be at Marcus for 90 minutes a day. It was great. Then we graduated. Where is Uly now? Well, I’m not sure. He’s probably still at Marcus. I hope he knows how much of an impact he made on my life. Where is Shamus now? I think he’s late for his flight.

THE VOORN PROJECT
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