In my part time role as a PE teacher at the local primary school I’ve noticed some disturbing trends. Things may seem normal lately: the kids still have snack time, the schedule is roughly the same, the lesson plans are laid out and mostly implemented. But if you think things are “normal”, you’re not paying close enough attention.

Right under our noses and with very few people noticing, the game of dodgeball has become extremely corrupt.

First off, nobody wants to listen to the rules anymore. People don’t want to be told what to do. They want to play the game their way and do whatever seems expedient for them at the moment.

Others assume they already know the rules, so there’s no need to belabor them again and again. “We get it, we get it,” they say, but then they couldn’t even tell you what’s going on. You may be averse to reviewing the instructions, but the game of dodgeball has changed so much in the past fifty years that it’s important to refresh oneself on the modern rules.

There’s also an overall lack of resiliency among people these days when they play dodgeball. Some get tossed out in the first five seconds and they’re completely stunned.

“You’re out.”

“I’m out!? Whaddaya mean I’m out!? I’ve never failed at ANYTHING before!”

Many collapse into an inconsolable heap of tears, some choose to disengage and silently brood on the sidelines. Still others begin to advocate for a brand of dodgeball that involves no throwing, no catching, no dodging and no one ever getting out. There’s so many emotions and impassioned speeches, so much crying and complaining, that the game becomes paralyzed and pointless.

At the other end of the spectrum are the students who are hyper-competitive dodgeball enthusiasts. They love to win and will do it by any means necessary. The game, the experience of collective play, the rules that give our beloved dodgeball structure and make everything we do in gym class possible, are completely secondary to winning for these people.

If they are thrown out, they will vehemently lie and tell you they’re still in. They argue, bicker and bully. They’ll blame YOU for them getting tossed out. There is a complete lack of accountability, there is a total refusal to take personal responsibility. They try to overwhelm you with their chaos and misdeeds. They run into spaces they don’t belong in, they fill the atmosphere with noise and distraction. Muddying the waters, there is a lack of clarity and a blurring of the lines between who is “out” and who is “still in”.

No dodgeball game can continue like this indefinitely. It will either dissolve into kiddy street fighting or become one of those dull meditation workshops for children. We need to do some serious soul searching and ask ourselves whether we want to keep playing.

There is a steady erosion of the gym class activities we love. When I was a kid, playing dodgeball meant something. You didn’t always win and you certainly didn’t like the people on the opposing team, but there was a mutual agreement as to what dodgeball was and wasn’t. Everyone shared common values about the game and agreed to follow the rules, even when they weren’t to your advantage.

Because dodgeball without rules isn’t any fun and you may as well not play at all.

Oh well, I guess those were different times.

Dodgeball