The ‘hidden curriculum’ of dodgeball
Like a lot of lesbians, in elementary school I excelled at dodgeball.
In fact, there is no better game in the world in which a tomboy can exact revenge on her bullies: mean girls with minimal athletic ability.
This, of course, is a reversal of the classic masculine dodgeball dynamic, wherein male jocks terrorize male nerds. With girls, it’s the bullies who are pelted, and their victims who do the pelting. Sticks and stones may break your bones, but the words of a catty classmate can’t hurt you when they’re drowned out by the sound of rubber popping off her thighs.
Needless to say, I’m very fond of dodgeball. So, like a lot of you, I was shocked and appalled to have recently read about a team of B.C. researchers who believe school gymnasiums would be better off without it.
A few weeks ago, academics Joy Butler, Claire Robson and David Burns presented research at a Vancouver humanities and social sciences conference, making the case that dodgeball does not align with “anti-oppressive” teaching practices.
“As we consider the potential of physical education to empower students by engaging them in critical and democratic practices,” they argued, “we conclude that the hidden curriculum offered by dodgeball is antithetical to this project.”
What is the hidden curriculum of dodgeball? The researchers suggest it reinforces violent behaviour, bullying and an uncaring learning environment, possibly because it’s the only ball game in which the ball’s target is the human body. Ergo, maybe it should be scrapped.
Judging from public reaction, though, it’ll be scrapped over our dead human bodies. People everywhere appear to be outraged, in a rare display of bi-partisan social media fury. And it isn’t kids who are most furious, but adult dodgeball fans who have turned up in droves to protest what they consider politically correct nonsense.
The anti-dodgeball story has gone viral; news of Butler and company’s research even made it onto Fox News, where Sean Hannity proclaimed, messianically: “I love dodgeball! It’s a red ball! It’s rubbery! It doesn’t hurt!” Meanwhile, a guest on his show claimed the study was evidence of “brainwashing happening to our children in favour of socialism.”
Not really. If you can look past the academic jargon long enough to call up Joy Butler, professor of curriculum and pedagogy at the University of British Columbia and lead researcher on the dodgeball study, you may be surprised to learn she isn’t a radical socialist brainwasher. She’s actually a former gym teacher who makes some pretty good points.
Butler taught PE for 10 years. She played dodgeball herself in college and admits she “quite enjoyed it.” What changed? “The idea of aiming it
(the ball) at somebody and pounding somebody didn’t sit right with me,” she says.
And she thinks she’s not alone. According to Butler, many gym teachers claim that if they give their students a choice, “nine times out of 10 they’ll choose dodgeball.” But, she wonders, “who is really choosing dodgeball? Is it just the people at the front of the group or is it all the students?” It’s impossible to be sure, she says, because some students who stay away from school on PE days identify dodgeball as the main reason.
I knew kids like this. Not only did they loathe dodgeball, they didn’t seem to like any competitive team game that involved balls flying around. The unfortunate thing is that kids who hate such games often don’t realize they actually enjoy physical activity until they leave school and learn that fitness doesn’t have to be competitive. It can be an independent, contemplative experience.
In gym class though, it rarely is. North American PE curriculum is dominated by games, particularly in high school, where 75 to 90 per cent of period activities are games, Butler says.
“We could do a much better job of balancing out the curriculum so that students have an experience with all sorts of activities,” she says, mentioning outdoor ed, swimming, gymnastics and dance.
True, it may be much easier for a lot of teachers to organize a game of dodgeball than it is to choreograph a gymnastics routine. But for the sake of all kids, not just the ones who enjoy pelting each other, maybe they should try.
The irony is that Butler doesn’t actually want to ban dodgeball. “People get rather entrenched when you ban things,” she says. She just wants teachers to think about why they are offering it, and to consider better alternatives.
Because, in addition to it being a miserable experience for a lot of students, the game doesn’t add significantly to their athletic abilities.
In most sports, she says, “you’re not aiming at a person, you’re aiming to make a receivable pass. So if kids learn to ream the ball at somebody, how are they going to know how to make a receivable pass?”
They’re not. But boy is it fun to ream the ball at a bully. Alas, the closeted lesbians of tomorrow may have to use their words.