Gimme More Dodgeball
I think we all need a little more dodgeball in our lives. What a game! One of the newest highlights of my week is playing dodgeball and yelling, “Ohhhhh!” as I point (and gloat) that I’ve just gotten someone out. (I’m a little competitive.)
Ok, so I’m playing dodgeball with middle schoolers. It shouldn’t massage my ego when I can get one of them out. The truth is, they get me out more often. But I still wait patiently on the sideline until I can get back in the game. If my team catches someone’s throw, I’m right back in there, baby!
For the record, it’s a whole different experience to play dodgeball in a gym. The yells and “oh’s!” and sneaker-squeaks on the gym floor all echo together perfectly. It’s practically a song.
A few weeks ago, I asked you, the people, to cast your vote on my (part-time job) destiny. 32 of you beautiful people Rocked the Vote, and one of the winning votes was for me to tutor at-risk middle schoolers. I found an opening at a great non-profit after school program, and it’s right down the street from me. And so, now, on most Mondays through Thursday afternoons, you will now find me playing dodgeball and helping these new friends of mine with their homework. It seems to be working out just fine, so far.
I think I need to start a ferocious dodgeball intramural team at Fuller. I’m reliving my elementary school days when I wasn’t coordinated enough to dodge, and was always the first to get out. Redemption is near.
(Kids playing dodgeball in Sri Lanka by Zbili)