HOW SCHOOL SPORTS DAYS ARE NOT EQUIPPED FOR AUTISTIC KIDS.

With half the year almost behind us, now, I am reminded of what was hell for me 36 years ago. Typically, in Queensland, Australia, since 1981, the school year was divided into four terms, with a week’s holiday (now two weeks) at Easter, two weeks in June-July, two weeks in September-October and six weeks in December-January. And after the June-July holidays, we had try-outs for sports day. Many kids loved it, and loved sports day, but for me, to paraphrase Philip Adams, sports day was a sensory hell that I was keen to have over.

My memories of sports day at my second primary school were of having to stand, on cold mornings, on grass still damp with morning dew, barefoot, no jumper, having to wear a red, yellow, blue or green t-shirt and white or black shorts and march around the oval. I also remember my Year Five teacher was in charge of our sporting house, and our colour was red, and she snapped, “You wear red or you get shot. Then you will be red.”

Then, we had compulsory 100 metre sprints and we all had to play any of tunnel ball, captain ball or leader ball. And, I had to endure endless blasts of the starter’s pistol. The teacher who fired the damn thing used to wear noise cancelling headphones and I wished they had allowed kids with sensory processing issues to be allowed to wear them, too, and for us to be able to sit with the hearing impaired kids and be called by sign language when it was our turn. Needless to say, I always came last.

I am all for allowing kids who want to participate to do so, but compulsory involvement of kids who have little interest in or aptitude for sports is pointless and fosters resentment.

I remember my mother saying that you go along and cheer for your team, but there, again, I see that as pointless and for these reasons. One, school sporting houses are typically decided on an arbitrary or class wise basis. So, you might have a good friend who is in a particular event, but they’re in a rival sporting house. Some might say, “Oh, but what’s there to worry about with that?” and yes, a true friend will understand, but that brings me to my next point. People who watch football, for example, might cheer for a particular team, but they cheer for that team because they like it. So, somebody who lives in Manly, could, technically, cheer for the Canberra Raiders. I remember, in 1990, three brothers with the surname of Walters were playing in the grand final, but two of the brothers were playing for the Brisbane Broncos and one for the Canberra Raiders! The parents were interviewed on the news and they said, “Well, whichever team wins.” And some who supports a Sydney team may find, if they watch the State of Origin, that a player from their preferred team plays for Queensland in representative football, and may either decide to support New South Wales in spite of a favoured player being in the Queensland team or support Queensland because their favourite player is in the Queensland team.

I would, if I was a school principal, want to say to kids, “Okay, on sports day, if your best friend is in an event and they are in an opposite house, you may, if you wish, cheer on your friend, as opposed to your house for that event. But you do so on these conditions: 1) when your friend’s event is called, you may go into their house, 2) you stand back from the rest of the house, 3) other members of that house are not to rubbish you and nor are you to rubbish them, 4) if your friend wins their event, you may witness them receiving their ribbon or medal, 5) they walk back, behind the lines, and you may congratulate them, and, 6) when your friend has returned to their house area, you return to your house area.”

I only went to one high school sports day (three I had off with ingrown toenails post-surgery and one with a cold) as, while I was spared a march past standing barefoot on dewy grass, I did not escape the starter’s pistol, sitting on dirt and grass in the sun that became hot despite it being the middle of winter, but I also had some IDIOT throw a whole apple that hit me in the back of the head!

The greatest favour the school did me in my third year was rather than holding the swimming carnival in the daytime, they held it at night, and attendance was not compulsory. I remember, when I was in Year Eight, for both the swimming and athletics zone events, they took any interested students. I opted to stay at school and I know that some who went did so more for a day off school. I also remember two IDIOTS, in Year Nine, who were pushing each other backwards and forwards and one kept falling back onto me! I thought, “That’s enough!” and I remembered, that afternoon, I got back from the swimming carnival early and I went into my room and listened to the radio and then, that night, while my brother went to a swimming club event, I lay in front of the TV watching A Country Practice. I didn’t have any homework, and I just needed a complete break from anything to do with school.

As I said, I believe that, in the case of the hearing impaired kids, if they wish to participate on sports day, they should have as much chance as anyone else, with some modifications, such as a sign language interpreter, but to force kids who have no interest in competing in athletics to do so is false inclusion and unfair. Schools need to be able to accommodate these issues and then, if they expect kids to attend school on the sports day, maybe either grant them an exemption from participating in the athletics events and rather than have them sitting surrounded by loud voices, the starter’s pistol and bullies, maybe allow them to help with a sausage sizzle or making hamburgers on the day, and, if they have to participate in a 100 metre sprint, maybe say, instead, “Okay, you can help out on the sausage sizzle or hamburger cooking, even if it is just buttering bread, and we’ll call you when your event is due, and then, afterwards, you come back to what you were doing.” That is true inclusion.