Mr. Ayers, the gym teacher? In here, if you please

The BBQ Pit
1

Mr. Ayers, the gym teacher? In here, if you please.

Mr. Ayers,

Do you still take pleasure from watching pre-pubescent males in the shower?

I was one of your students. And I still remember your dictum: shower or fail. Now, sir, I’d like to ask, why? Why was it so important that we all take a shower after gym class. We, who were 12 years old, self-conscious–why did we have to strip in front of our classmates? And more importantly–in front of you?

What thrilll did you get from making 12 and 13 year olds strip in front if you, Mr. Ayres? Did you like young boys? Did you honestly think we would be silent? No, sir. I’m recalling the embarrassment you put me though, and that of my classmates, and I must say, sir, that you are a pig. You embarrassed me, sir, in front of my classmates, my peers. You helped make my senior public (US terms: junior high) years intolerable. My dick wasn’t long enough? Now, sir, tell me how that matters. No, seriously. Tell me. I’m all ears.

Okay, Mr. Ayres. Time for you to defend yourself. Can you? It’s too much to expect that your’re a member of the SDMB. Gee, that’s too damn bad if you can’t. But I would be very surprised if you could not gather some sort of definition from the students of Glenview Public School in Toronto in the years 1971-74 in your defense, and at the same time the kind of defense that I could shoot down with one hand tied behind my back.

Fucker. Deviant. Screw you, asshole.

And try to fail me on this one. Asshole. I passed all your courses without having to lower myself to a level only you know. Fuck you, pervert.

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… :confused:

Why were you thinking about your 7th grade gym teacher 30 years later on a Saturday night?

Why did you post this here rather than a blog/livejournal/etc.?

And finally: WHAT.
Not trying to be a dick. Just genuinely confused/bemused/amused and another words ending -used.

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Well, not wanting to knock your no doubt well-deserved 35-year-old Pitting (better late than never), but… :smiley: …us girls in Illinois in the early 1970s were told, “Shower or fail”, too, and we too had a gym teacher who stood there with a clipboard and watched with eagle eye to make sure everybody got wet. It’s possible that “shower or fail” was just a health issue, not a sex or perversion issue. Maybe Mr. Ayers just took his duty to Society seriously, in that he had his instructions from the School Board and by golly he was a-gonna see that all these boys got clean.

Did he, like, stare? Or, you know, drool? Or seem to take an unhealthily intense interest in all those naked bodies? Did he pay special attention to the better-looking naked bodies, and totally ignore the Fat Kid and the Skinny Geek and the Pimply Weirdo?

Or did he just stand there with the clipboard? Miss M just stood there with the clipboard, too, looking incredibly bored, and eagerly awaiting her opportunity to bust someone for trying to sneak out behind the line of towel-wrapped girls.

And maybe it was just a Power Trip thing. Many teachers just plain take a sadistic pleasure in forcing children to do things they hate, like stand in line, eat cafeteria food, and take showers.

Just sayin’. You may proceed with your Pitting. :smiley:

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So you had to stip naked and shower after gym class and the other boys laughed at you? Boo Hoo. It’s called basic hygiene, not child molestation.

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Hey there muscley arm. I’ve got a popsicle for you.

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We had the “shower or fail” thing, too. In general, everyone was pretty cool about it because they had to do it, too.

I recall that there was also a female gym teacher at our school. When I was in junior high, I’d say that she was at least late 50’s, more likely early 60’s. One time, we were all in the post-gym class shower run and this lady comes traipsing through the locker room to get to the male gym teacher’s office. Now keep in mind that she was just walking right in with about thirty 12 and 13 year old boys running around naked. If I’m not mistaken, I heard her say “Oh come on, it’s not like it’s anything I’ve never seen before.” :eek:

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“Shower or fail” is why I almost didn’t pass middle school. It was a state requirement IIRC.

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No problem, I’m bemused too. I honestly don’t know what brought Mr. Ayers and his…whatever…to my attention on this Saturday night.

Maybe it has to do with trying to participate with some friends in some sports. “We’ll all change in the locker room.” Well, sure, except I remember Mr. Ayers, and I’m always looking around corners to see who’s watching. To this day, I do not feel comfortable in a locker room. In fact, I really hate men’s locker rooms, thanks to Mr. Ayers.

Maybe that’s it. Yes, it’s dumb. Yes, it’s over 30 years later. But I cannot help feeling that had I raised these concerns 30 years ago that somebody would have taken notice–imagine today, what might happen if somebody said, “Mr. Ayers likes to look at naked pre-pubescent boys in the shower.” Because he did. And yes, he damn near drooled.

But that was, as I’ve intimated, over 30 years ago. He’s likely retired, and no longer interested in us. And there’s nothing that can be done any more about him. But I’m stuck trying to explain to friends why I don’t want to change in the locker room, in order to play some pickup football. It’s easy enough to say, “Get over it.” But it’s another matter entirely to do it.

I’m pitting Mr. Ayers, nobody else. He’s not stopping me from playing pickup football. But damn! I really wish I didn’t have such a fear of locker rooms. But apparently, I do.

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No, they didn’t laugh at me. They laughed at the kid whose dick had been amputated for some reason. He transferred out of school shortly after.

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Thank god I didn’t have “shower or fail”. (Alberta, Canada, grad '97)

I took phys ed all through junior high and in grade 10, and did various intramurals and a couple sports in school. I only remember a (literal) handful of times that any girls ever used the showers. I think I only did once, after a particularly muddy rugby practice.
Did schools have this policy because of hygiene issues? It’s not like I couldn’t/didn’t shower when I got home after school.

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Waitaminut…I remember that story, but I thought you said that no one laughed, because everyone was just too horrified.

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I grew up in the “shower or fail” era, too. I don’t know if it was a state requirement, but it was amazing how all the girls started having periods about every week and a half so they could use the few private showers available for those who were extra unclean. :smiley:

Seriously, though, if all Mr. Ayers did was look, oh well. I had a reluctance to strip in front of others for a long time as a result of my 7th grade gym locker room experiences, too, but living in Japan and going to the bathhouse there cured me rapidly. Everyone too polite to openly stare at the gaijin, so they could pretend they weren’t staring and I could pretend I didn’ t know they were staring, and somehow my modesty issues finally disappeared.

It’s possible to get over it, you know. It just takes a little courage.

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It’s because Americans fear dirt and sweat.

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As a 40-year-old mother of three, I was uncomfortable stripping off in the YWCA’s locker room when I had to take my kids to Family Swim. Nobody around but other moms and their little kids, similarly homely and naked, but nevertheless, I was extremely uncomfortable.

But I can’t blame it on Mr. Ayers.

It’s normal to feel uncomfortable when naked in front of strangers.

You’re a normal person, Spoons. You don’t have any particularly extraordinary hangups about getting naked in a locker room. Everybody feels that way. Mr. Ayers didn’t traumatize you; you simply absorbed “naked in front of strangers = bad” from the general culture around you, starting from the time you were 2 and you happily removed your diapers in the middle of the grocery store. Your mom’s reaction taught you your first lesson in socialization. So now 35 years later, you still comprehend at an instinctive level that taking off your diapers in public is a Bad Thing. :smiley:

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Wow…somebody remembers. That was what? Five years ago that I first told this story? Never mind, these events are in my memory, no matter how long ago I reported them. (And honestly, it’s kind of nice to see that somebody remembers a post of mine, seeing as how I don’t post a lot.)

Okay, we didn’t laugh at the time, when we were forced, in the locker room, to see Jeff’s disfigurement…we were, honestly, quite horrified. Let’s face it, boys have penises…but Jeff didn’t. And later, after we had some time to think about it, we were typical 12-year-olds: “Jeff has no dick! Ewwww!” Yep, let’s face it, 12-year-olds are not know for subtlety and tact.

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Well, it’s not the sort of anecdote that one readily forgets!

And I wouldn’t call you and your classmates especially tactless. If you’d laughed when this happened, or if Jeff had continued at school, and you’d made fun of him to his face, that would have been horrible. But nervous laughter about what is, after all, every man’s fear, is only to be expected. In a way, Mr. Ayers traumatized all of you that day, not just Jeff.

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I must say, thank you, DDG. This is the kind of thing I’ve been needing to hear for some time. No, it’s not a Bad Thing to change into football gear in the locker room, and I don’t believe deep down that Mr. Ayers had much to do with it. But when I wanted to play football today, I just had this…feeling, and somehow, Mr. Ayers factored into it. And as a result, I didn’t play football today. Perhaps that’s where the post comes from.

But you’re right. I’m not strange; I’m normal (well, pretty much :)). And I have no positive role models in this regard, to tell you the truth–I pretty much skipped gym class in high school. And I haven’t been a big fan of gyms ever since.

Anyway, thanks again. If I hadn’t been invited to play football today, I probably wouldn’t even have been thinking about Mr. Ayers, and thus, my hatred of locker rooms. And yes, it is something I have to get over. Hell, I’ve got over a lot of things in my life; I should be able to get over this.

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Another voice saying it’s normal to hate changing in locker rooms.

I’ve been overweight pretty much my whole life. Particularly through intermediate and high school. Half the problem is how self conscious I feel exercising. I know I look akward and pathetic and unpracticed. Doesn’t help that I now live in a college town, so the gym is filled with nubile 20 somethings, girls who look at me and think, “at least I don’t look like that.”

But I’m sick of missing out on life because I’m fat. And I’m sick of being fat because I’m so embarassed. So fuck being embarassed.

You missed out on fun with your friends because of some somewhat creepy guy 30 years ago who strengthened your natural nervous tendencies. That sucks. Stop it.

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“Joey, have you ever been in a Turkish prison?”

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So maybe I’m stupid, but where were you going to play football today that meant you would have to be in a locker room? At the Y or someplace like that? Were you going to have to wear an actual uniform? I’ve only seen men in their 30’s or 40’s who were not professional players play in shorts and t-shirts from home. So just show up in your gear, no biggie. No need to shower after- just say something about how gross those shower floors are and covered in athlete’s foot and that you’re a home showerer. Big deal.

FWIW, we had a pervy gym teacher, so I can sympathize with your plight back then. He was our track coach and LOVED LOVED LOVED to rub menthol muscle rub on the girls that strained a muscle. I’d heard stories but didn’t believe it until he tried it with me when I strained something in my groin area. Um, NO THANKS, pervy. He also picked our uniforms- tiny, tiny black shorts and yellow tank tops so sheer you had to wear a bra AND another shirt under it. The nice part was about 5 years after I graduated when he got busted for doing something pervy to a student and I ended up working at the same grocery store that he was stocking shelves at. Fucking weirdo sicko.