In 30 years of teaching across six high schools on two continents, I’ve been fortunate to work in places that value physical education – schools that prioritize it, protect time for it, and employ certified teachers to lead it. I’ve even worked alongside former professional and Olympic athletes. In those moments, it’s clear: many schools will go to great lengths to find the best people for students.

Which is why one word continues to bother me.

“Specials.”

This post revisits something that I wrote back in 2019 following a conversation with my friend Justin Schleider. We discussed the casual, almost throwaway way some schools group physical education, art, and music teachers under that label of “Specials”. And if I’m honest, it doesn’t sit right with me.

Not because I think physical education is more important than other subjects.

But because I don’t think it’s less.

Don’t call me a PE instructor.
I’m not a games teacher.
I’m not your coach during curriculum time.
And “gym teacher”? Who’s Jim?

I’m a teacher of physical education.

At my current school, we call it Kinetic Wellness. The name isn’t what matters most, but the parity does. I’m seen as a colleague, on equal footing with every other teacher in the building. That shouldn’t be notable. It should be normal, because the truth is simple: no subject is more “special” than another.

We teach differently, yes.
But we care about the same students.

We plan, assess, adapt, reflect, and build relationships. We create environments where students can grow – not just physically, but socially and emotionally. At a time when student well-being is finally front and center, that work matters more than ever.

Language shapes how that work is valued. When we group teachers as “Specials,” we subtly separate them. And once that separation exists, it becomes easier to justify other differences.

Different spaces.
Different expectations.
Different levels of respect.

I’ve seen PE teachers working out of storage closets. I’ve seen office spaces that double as equipment rooms and lost-and-found stations. These aren’t just logistical oversights, they’re reflections of perceived value.

And it doesn’t stop with teachers. When a subject is seen as “extra,” it becomes easier to treat it that way for students too.

It becomes easier to allow waivers.
Easier to excuse absences.
Easier to substitute something else “in its place.”
Easier to reduce time in the schedule to make room for what are deemed more “important” subjects.

And when we diminish the subject, we diminish the experience students have within it.

We limit their opportunities to develop confidence, connection, resilience, and a positive relationship with movement. These are all things that last far beyond the school day, and far beyond graduation.

This isn’t about physical education wanting more. It’s about education being better.

At a time when schools are striving to be more inclusive, more connected, and more unified, the words we use matter. At a time when society feels increasingly divided, and education continues to face attacks, teachers need to come together. We must prioritize connection, not just with our students, but with each other.

So call me a colleague.
Call me a teacher.

Just don’t call me “Special.”

This microblog post was a featured post in #slowchathealth’s #microblogmonth event. You can search for all of the featured posts here. Please do follow each of the outstanding contributors on social media (including Andy Milne, the author of this post) and consider writing a microblog post of your own to be shared with the global audience of slowchathealth.com

*Bonus points if you ‘get’ the cover art reference.

Pair this blog post with the following:

“That is when a pregnancy is possible.” by Emily Zien

Mind Your Language by Andy Milne