Balancing Fitness and Education
Some gym teachers want their charges to learn how to finesse a soccer ball. Some want them to learn how to sink a basket. Jean Flemion, of A.E. Wright Middle School in Calabasas, advocates a kinder, gentler physical education.
He teaches all his students how to juggle.
“Every year we have 600 kids who will learn,” Flemion said. “That’s the entire sixth grade.”
Flemion, 54, who added juggling to the curriculum in the mid-1980s, estimates that he has taught about 7,000 youngsters and more than 3,000 teachers.
Flemion, who was 1988 California teacher of the year and 1990 national physical education teacher of the year, was searching for more creative ways to teach his discipline. He hit on juggling after he learned with the help of John Cassidy’s book “Juggling for the Complete Klutz,” given to him as a Christmas gift.
Initially, Flemion gave his students tennis balls to juggle. It was a mistake.
“When you drop tennis balls--and you’re going to do a lot of dropping when you’re learning--they go all over,” he said.
He learned a better way from a fellow member of the President’s Council on Youth, Fitness and Sports. Known professionally as Mr. Juggle Bug, Dave Finnegan was once a full-time street juggler in San Francisco.
The trick, Finnegan said, is first to teach beginners how to juggle neon-colored scarves. Tennis balls fall quickly and can smash into your face. Scarves are soft and nonthreatening and float down slowly. The most basic juggling pattern is called a cascade, and even a youngster with two left hands can master it using scarves, Finnegan assured Flemion.
As students throw their scarves into the air, Flemion has them repeat the fundamental steps of juggling out loud. As they toss and catch, they chant, “Toss, catch.” In minutes, they are juggling.
Youngsters respond to juggling differently than their parents reacted to dodge ball. They usually love it. Fourteen-year-old Ruben Duran, an A.E. Wright eighth-grader, remembers how proud he was the first time his scarves rotated through the air just as they were supposed to.
“I had accomplished something new,” Duran recalled. To this day, when bored, he sometimes juggles.
“Juggling has many values,” said Jim Clemmensen, 45, head of the physical education department at Van Nuys Middle School, where sixth-graders also learn to juggle.
It improves hand-eye coordination, sharpens fine motor skills, helps students learn to think sequentially, lessens performance anxiety and boosts self-esteem. Also, Clemmensen said, “it’s a great lesson in learning how to learn.”
Which is not why students beam and whoop with pleasure when they discover they are juggling. Fun is a major factor, and Flemion thinks youngsters also relish juggling because it impresses their friends and families. “We tell them if they find three baseballs or three oranges or three apples, they can always show off,” he said.
Flemion warns his neophyte jugglers to stay away from the good china. Other objects are fair game. “When you go to the store now, the produce department is going to look different to you,” he tells his students. “Cans of corn are going to look different, cans of tuna are going to look different, because these are all things you can juggle.”
Flemion said he has never failed to teach a child to juggle scarves. Beanbags--the usual next step--are another matter. Only 55% to 60% of his students can make the transition from clawing at floating scarves to putting out their hands to await the solid plop of a beanbag.
“It’s a big jump from scarves to beanbags,” he said. “You’re doubling the difficulty.”
Deft students can move on to manipulating more challenging objects, including rings, clubs and the popular favorite--junk. Flemion has organized a circus club at the school in which students master such related skills as riding unicycles, spinning plates and walking on stilts.
The juggler’s triumph over gravity is especially sweet to students who are not part of what Flemion calls physical education’s “skillful elite”--varsity athletes, an older generation called them.
Flemion likes the fact that juggling pits children against no one but themselves. “Competition is OK if you keep it in a healthy box, but it’s like the genie in the bottle,” he said. “If it gets out, sometimes it gets ugly.” He strives for a program “in which every child is a star and has a chance to succeed.”
According to Betty Hennessy, consultant for physical education with the Los Angeles County Office of Education, about 30 of the county’s 240 middle schools teach juggling. Programs tend to spring up after teachers learn how in professional-development workshops, such as those Flemion teaches. As a juggler, Hennessy likes the way it promotes long-term fitness.
“It shows you don’t have to be an athlete to find activities that you can do for the rest of your life,” she said.
As the Johnny Appleseed of school juggling, Flemion has helped plant it from New Jersey to Alaska. He likes to show teachers in his workshops how to make cheap equipment from discarded socks and dried beans. Recently, a teacher proudly told him she had found a nifty substitute for pricey juggling scarves. Who knew you could juggle supermarket produce bags?