If you read last week’s blog, you already know I am genetically rhythm-deficient. I think that’s why a phone call with one of my oldest girlfriends last week had me me in tears, laughing, remembering a very specific part of high school gym class.
Throughout middle school and high school (VSS combined grades 6-12, calling it Junior-Senior High School), my BFF was Carin. We did everything together.
We were in all the same classes. We ate lunch together every day. We belonged to the same clubs. We were doubles partners on the tennis team. We both played on the basketball team. And we spent every weekend together, doing something ridiculous.
Forty+ years later and Carin is still one of my besties.
Last week, we were on the phone talking about a bunch of stuff, and at some point, the conversation turned to high school gym class. Specifically, the Lummi sticks and Tinikling sticks unit.
[For those unfamiliar, Lummi sticks are these small-ish handheld wooden sticks that you tap on the floor and together to a beat. Tinikling sticks are long bamboo poles that a dancer steps and hops between as they are clapped together by two people, each holding an end.]
Sometime in the winter, our gym teacher, Mrs. Lash (who, at the time, was probably in her 40s or 50s), would bring us into the musty, smelly wrestling room, pair us up, put on music — specifically this song (“When I hear music” by Debbie Deb) — and teach the class a routine to tap out with a pair of Lummi sticks. There was a lot of choreographed stick flipping and tossing involved, I’m guessing to test our agility as well as our rhythm.
I don’t have a video of me doing this (thank goodness!), but I did find a YouTube video to give all you visual learners an idea of what I’m talking about:
Once the Lummi stick portion of the unit ended, we segued to Tiniking sticks. Pairs turned into threesomes, and each person had to take a turn hopping through the poles to whatever dance routine Mrs. Lash concocted. Again, she used Debbie Deb and, if memory serves, Yaz (“Don’t go”).
As with the Lummi sticks, I thankfully don’t have a video of me doing this, but here’s another YouTube video to give you an idea:
By the way, this gym unit was only for the girls. I’m not sure what the boys were learning during this same time, but I know their teacher wasn’t blasting synth pop and techno beats.
My memories are a little vague on the specifics of the routines we performed. But what I do remember was how much Carin and I laughed as we fumbled our way through the unit.
Remember, lame dance skills are in my genes. And despite Mrs. Lash’s efforts to change that, I think that class was my lowest grade in high school.
Unfortunately, I’m still not a good dancer. Tinikling sticks or not. Luckily for my boys, they inherited their father’s sense of rhythm.
—LJDT
