I did a certification test where one question messed with my personal beliefs. Do I want to give the correct answer or the right answer? I knew which one they wanted but it wasn't the right answer. It was the only question I got wrong and afterwards the man doing the certification admitted that my answer and reading was right. It was one small conjunction that upended the intended logic of the question and it would be fixed.
Our P.E teacher in 7-9th indirectly gave out homework, he was the only teacher that had very strict requirements to get a passing grade while every other teacher had a policy of giving a passing grade to everyone that showed up and made an effort.
It was a boys only class and his curriculum involved different types of "exams" where correct answers were replaced with tiered results, like being able to sprint 60m under certain times, the Cooper test, longer distance running which was always done when gym was the last class of the day because it could take a while. He was also one of the people that said "There's nothing wrong with the weather, you're just wearing the wrong clothes".
Benching a percentage of your body weight was another one - the passing grade for that one started at 40% in 7th grade and increased by 10% each year if I remember it right. In the winter when we couldn't sprint he replaced that with speed skating. He was also the only one showing up with a stopwatch the day when every school was doing a fun run skiing either 15km/10 miles, 22km/13 miles or 30km/18 miles. If someone hadn't passed the finishline when he decided to go home that was a fail.
There was also gymnastics where we had to choose the difficulty of exercises and show proper form.
And finally dancing. The latter one was always fun for everyone involved. A bunch of boys in the midst of puberty wearing sweatpants waltzing with the girls while the teacher yelled at us to get closer together or stomped over to push people together and move hands around('oh no, that's the bra clasp'). This was yet another graded class for the boys.
I had to raise my gym grade to make up for my chemistry grade to get into the program that I wanted so working out to pass his exams become homework. It was a pain in the ass and I complained a lot but in hindsight it was really good and I went from being a chubby guy going into grade 7 to being lean when starting grade 10. Even the spergiest turbo-nerds that initially fell over like a bicycle when trying to do a forward roll were in much better shape when they went into high school. He also created some very fit youth criminals.
When I was in middle school my eighth grade PE teacher gave us written essays but it was only for a handful of students. I don't recall why I was put in that group or why PE even had an exam - there were other students there too and none of us fit into any particular niche. Wish I remembered why we were there.
At the time we were not told it was our final exam. We were just told WRITE THE DAMN ESSAY by the oldie teacher who kept stomping off to smoke weed or whatever in her office. I was in a pissy mood so I wrote a mean spirited essay about the topic and turned it in. I definitely remember mocking the topic and the gym teacher in it but I also managed to write an essay that was relatively on topic, it was just loaded with insults.
On the final week of summer vacation when I was preparing to go into ninth grade my mom tried to make me rewrite the essay. The PE teacher had successfully tricked her into thinking that she could stop me from moving on to the ninth grade if I didn't because I "failed the final exam." It was the stupidest shit I ever heard of especially when my mom tried to get mad at me for not being "respectful" of the teacher.
I never had a good relationship with that gym coach because she tried to make fun of one of my classmates for being a slut when the school found out that her step-father was raping her. She kept trying to move my classmate out of my class because she didn't want other children being encouraged to be "sluts." It never went anywhere because, uh, PE is a required class for graduation. Eventually it became a moot point because the police investigation became involved enough that my classmate was pulled from school for the remainder of the school year. So you can imagine my reaction when I found out my mother was being guilt tripped by a rape apologist cunt into re-writing an essay for a fake final exam.
It was very strange and if I remember right the only thing I emailed to my mother was a blank .doc. A week later we got some official documentation from my high school and I remember being very smug about the fact that the rape apologist couldn't stop me from entering high school lol.
What the fuck is it with middle school gym teachers? I don't remember any of my elementary or high school gym teachers ever being as strict or as bitchy as the ones I got during middle school. Praticularly the dyke mexican I got for 8th grade that makes me MATI when I think about it.
Just for the record, the heaviest I ever was in middle school was 125 pounds so it's not like I was anywhere near obese. I just didn't have any muscle in me. I was not fit at all for the shit we were made to do. As an example, we had to run around the football field in 5 minutes (in 95 degree weather) and we failed if we couldn't do so. I, for some reason, was the very last one to cross the finish line in my class, mainly because I became exausted and my chest would hurt after about halfway and would refuse to run anymore after that. When I got back I was breathless and pouring sweat and about ready to collapse, and that bitch made a huge scene about me not being able to run as fast as everyone else and for as long to the point that I teared up about it and genuinely felt guilty about not being as physically competent as everyone else, even among those that failed. After that, she had the audacity to call my mom and tell her about my failure and that I need to train every day to catch up QUOTE "with the rest of us." Even my mom was appalled at how rude she was. Afterwards I found out that she did this to every kid that had the misfortune of being dead last.
There was also strength exams that for the most part I did just fine. That didn't matter. The portion that she was concerned about most was pushups to the point that it was make or break for the exam. I for the life of me
could not do a single pushup even though I could lift weights alright and could just barely manage to pass the pullup portion, but fuck all that. This fucking part was the most dreaded thing of the hour because I knew I just could not fucking do it, and I was straining everything to do at least 1 full pushup (you had to do 15) so it wasn't for the lack of trying. Luckly, I was not alone in failing strenght exams because of the pushup portion because she was very praticular about what was considered a pushup, but she never showed us the right way to do one because I guess she just assumed that we already knew that. To this day I still can't do pushups and partly because it reminds me of that awful spic bitch.
By the end of the year I was well aware of the fact that I was failing, so I was happy to find out about the chance to make up the grade with a 20 question multiple choice exam with a paragraph question on the back. Apparently, a good sized portion of the class was failing alongside me, and she made sure to tell us that in a pissy voice, so she made the test "very easy." She also made the test mandatory and for a large portion of your grade even if you were doing good in the class. We were each given the "study material," a pencile, piece of paper, and a clipboard to jot down notes that we could use during the test. The thing was about 10 pages. All of it on football. I know nothing about football, so I wrote down pratically every sentence on the first page which contained the overall history of the sport up until around the 80's or so. And then the bell rang. She told us to return both the booklet and our notes. I didn't understand the point of not taking our notes with us to study or to add upon, but I went with it anyway because I thought that we would get more opportunities to study.
HAHAHAHA FUCKING NOPE!
We did the test the
next fucking day. We grabbed our notes and a pencile and she handed out the test. First question was about formations with circles and X's everywhere. What? I looked through the questions for absolutely anything that was related to what was on my notes. I found fucking nothing that was related to my notes. All it was was formations, rules and fouls, and who was currently on which team and their stats. The paragraph question was a scenario describing a player passing the ball to someone else and taking it so many yards before the whisle being blown. Write 4 or 5 sentences on what he did wrong. I just fucking looked at the thing in despair. I fucking failed that class and I failed it hard and I just knew that I just wouldn't make it to high school because fucking stupid faggot ass latinwhore just assumed that everyone knew all the ends and outs of sportsball enough to consider this "easy." I turned in the paper with the first 2 questions guessed and the rest blank because I just fucking gave up at that point.
And so I went up to the 9th grade the next year. How I managed to do that? No fucking clue but I not about to ask questions about that.
