The Naked Truth

Some things don't seem strange at the time, or because of circumstances you don't think of them as strange. But later, you'll shake your head and wonder. This is one of those things; you decide.

I grew up in suburban Chicago, right off the end of Runway 22 at O'Hare; my parents had moved from their 47th St. apartment in the city when I was three. Lived a pretty uneventful childhood and attended uneventful suburban public schools divided into three tiers: Elementary (K-6), Junior High (7-8) and High School (9-12).

My Jr. High was a 1903-era building near what passed for downtown. We had gym class every day, and as the building had once housed the district's high school until the 1930s we were fortunate enough to have a swimming pool, which we used during gym class a couple times a year, two weeks at a time.

But here's the rub: the boys swam naked. Yep - nude, unclothed, au naturale, in the buff. The gym classes were gender-segregated (hey, this wasn't Marin County), so that degree of weirdness was not reached. But still. Our gym teacher Mr. Locascio wore trunks, but none of us kids were allowed to.

The rationale for this policy has long been forgotten, but I do recall that at the time neither I nor my parents had any adverse reaction to it beyond a momentary surprise. Merely the fact that it was "school policy" seems to have been enough, and I don't recall anyone else's parents ever complaining either.

Yet when I think about it now, or mention it to anyone else, the reaction is always the same: "Are you bleeping KIDDING me?"

Yeah, OK. It's weird. And no, my district was not predominantly Greek.

UPDATE - 10:15 PM: On a whim, I just emailed my former school district, asking if anyone recalls why that policy was adopted. I'll keep you posted.

UPDATE - 2/17/2005: No reply yet. Cowards.