I think that there is much to be said for the role that being very physically active at a young age plays in our future. When I think back to my physical literacy journey I can't help but think about how active I was as a kid. Because when I was a kid ... it wasn't about being physically literate - it was just about 'being a kid'. It was the norm.
I don’t remember my elementary school PE classes, though I am certain they were designed by a very good teacher guided by a full and rich curriculum much like we have today. I don’t remember what fundamental movement skills our teachers taught us, though I’m certain they did. I do remember that we did a lot of track and field at school. I remember how great it felt to be a good runner. I don’t remember my elementary PE experience at all when I think back to it, but I do remember playing. Playing outside. Every day. I remember very clearly the feeling of freedom of recesses, more freedom at lunch and the ultimate freedom of the after school hours. I remember literally busting out the doors at recess and lunch to play tag games and on the 'big toy' play structure that was a permanent fixture on our school grounds. Hanging on the metal monkey bars (for what seemed like hours) until my armpits hurt and my hands were full of callouses. Every day. There was an element of pride to be able to hang there the longest or slip easily between the bars and wiggle your way to the top where only a select few (ultimately with strong upper body strength and a good amount lean muscle mass) managed to earn that badge of honour. I remember a distinct feeling of running through the pea gravel that covered the the playground at 'at top speed' to avoid being 'it' while strategically placing my feet to avoid the inevitable stinging and heat that accompanied the road rash that would follow. Cherishing those scabs like a prized first place ribbon in the race of a lifetime. I can feel the heaviness of the challenge as my feet sank into the deep pea gravel as I pushed hard and pumped my skinny little legs. I remember the countless slivers associated with the wearing away of the wooden play structure and the festering sores that would result from hiding it from my parents for days before sucoming to the pain and begging for it's removal which was always a job for Dad's 'tough' love.
I remember most the responsibility of making sure I kept an eye out for my little sister ... making sure that the playground bullies never at her alive. That with the slightest look she was assured that her older sister would be there for her like a lightning strike. Fast. Strong. Agile. And at her defense. Much pride was taken to be the fastest, strongest and most importantly the 'hardest to catch' out there on the playground. Being picked for first for a team and being 'trusted' to hold your own with the boys. It garnered respect and street cred and with that confidence. Realizing that only those things that are truly worth doing come only with sweat equity and hard work. And much of what took place on those playgrounds really showed what makes kids resilient. They do say play is the work of children.
I remember coming home after school to a street full of kids who would drop our backpacks on the front doorsteps, grab our bikes (without helmets), and then pump our strong little people legs up and down the street from 4:00 until ‘dinner-time’. I remember loving to be on my bike and the sense of freedom of the wind in your face. I remember playing outside with the bike gang up and down the street outside until the Moms would get home. I don’t really remember having the pressures of homework at all. Could it have helped that I was completely engaged in my schoolwork for fear that I didn't want to ‘waste’ any of my after school or free-time doing homework? I wanted to play. I remember myself, my sister, and all the other little people who would hangout on the street waiting for our parents to come home – but that was okay because we were all at ‘home’ out on the street together. I’m sure some Mom was watching over all 20 some odd of us from her kitchen window. I remember climbing enormous trees in the forest across the street from our house using all the strength in my arms and legs around that big cedar. Unsupervised. Running through the neighbours front yards and and hiding under trees and bushes. I remember the smell of a sweaty but healthy body at bath time before bed.
Could more be said for the simplicity and powerful nature of plain old straight up play and the pure enjoyment of confident movement experienced through playing? How much is the activeness in my adult life is a result of the exposure to this kind of old school play that occurred in my child life?
I'm not sure why this process of examining my physical literacy journey, as I also prefer to call it a journey, causes me to be reflective of the play I associate with being a 'little'. A very small snapshot in time. Through the reflective process many emotions surfaced even when only sharing a small portion of my personal narrative. I can only best describe the feeling most effectively as that similar to when I have felt myself in a state of 'flow'. Commonly sought after, and known to athletic types, as a euphoric feeling of perfectness where you feel like you are outside of your body looking down upon what yourself executing that moment in your sport experience flawlessly. When I was writing my narrative it's almost as though I felt flow again. Athletes know that once you've experienced that feeling you would do anything to get it back. Attempting to recreate the conditions to experience flow again requires seeking the exact equation to get that chance again. Retelling my narrative story of play brings back that feeling of peace, bliss and happiness - a state of well-being and perfect balance or what I feel like is flow.
My narrative story takes place in the school yard of my very first elementary school (Ridgeway Annex) which at the time was Kindergarten to Grade 2. I find it interesting that I also remember riding my bike to-and-from school at the Annex which would make me in Grade 2 and not very old to be walking or riding on my own - despite our house only being 3 blocks away. I feel like the story blends over that time period but at one point I do feel older because my sister is involved which would make it more like Grade 2 because my sister is younger than me. For the last portion of the memory, we both seem a little older because at that point because we moved and transitioned to a new elementary school which was around grade 5.
In this narrative, I remember clearly the feeling of waiting inside the doors and as they opened and then running through them at full speed towards the playground while feeling the loose pea gravel from the playground rolling around under my runners. I guess I also find it interesting that much of the story that emerged reflected a feeling of having a seemingly strong body and ability to run fast which is surprising considering I was very wiry and very skinny when I was young. It surprised me that that much of the emotion that came through when retelling my story verbally was triggered when I referred to being able to stick up to the bullies for my little sister and being respected on the playground among the other kids because of those abilities. Upon reflection from the members of my group, it was also very valuable for me begin to see the connections to a sense of being empowered by being able to have a healthy strong and athletic disposition. A sense and feeling that I carried forward into high school and then into my career and life. Unknowingly, I think I have always referred to myself as being good at PE and being labelled a 'jock' in school because back then I took pride in and it shaped my self-perception how I was able to fit in easily which created a strong sense of social connection. Not too far from how things are today. When Math and Physics classes challenged my self-esteem during the delicate time of adolescence, it was my ability to excel on the soccer pitch and behind the plate in fast-pitch that allowed me to feel more confident. That same sense of respect in being able to run fast in those foundational situations are now clearly not coincidental.
Even now when I get on my road bike to head out from the house, those first few pumps of the legs immediately take me back to that familiar feeling of coming home after school dropping my backpack and heading out to the street with the local bike gang. Despite some of the long hours I have spend out training on my bike for personal fitness, it's really about who I could convince to go with me and how many girls we could round up for a gang to go out.
If I think about where all this might go in the future for me - I know that these past two years of being back in Calgary have been a big adjustment from my Okanagan life. Calgary provides me with an amazing opportunity to work with many schools, teachers and students as they build their healthy school communities. It provides me with the income to care for my family and the security to worry less about us financially. The opportunities to connect to change makers and the professional networking has been phenomenal for my career.
At the end of the day, I still need to be able to come home, drop my backpack on the front steps and head out with the bike gang to pump those little legs until the street lights come on. It is fundamental to who I am as a person and is essential to my happiness. It is not a coincidence.
