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31 March 2010

Short Distance Water Conduct


In lieu of finding blog-worthy things in the suburban limbo in which I currently exist, here is a glimpse into the life of a swim teacher (me). It's almost impossible to describe these kids (or in some cases, adults) as they test out unfamiliar waters, some wild and uninhibited, melting seamlessly with the aquatic world, and some stiff and unnatural, paralyzed by fear.

There's the 4-year-old Indian boy who stands on the deck, his toes clinging to the edge of the pool, willing himself to leap into my waiting arms in the 3 1/2 feet of water below. Instead he just hops in place when I say "Jump!" Trepidation keeps him from stepping forward on his own into the water he'd already been swimming in for half an hour. He can only get himself to hop once or twice and then stumble backward, saying, "I can't do it! I am jumping!" When he does go for it, he clings to me with the pinching, clawing fingers of an animal outside his element.

In another class I teach a boy the same age, who seems to be trying to fuse his very molecules with the shifting water. He is weightless, fearless, and does not listen. He's constantly submerged, opening his eyes and mouth, trying to fill himself with the swirling freedom and fluidity that this unearthly environment provides.

Then there's the little girl who can't grasp the concept of blowing bubbles. She'll begin to lower her face to the water, exhaling, exhaling, her tiny mouth curled to release only the slightest whisper of air, and then as soon as her lips reach the surface she opens wide and with a quick and mighty inhalation, fills her delicate lungs with water.

A 6-year-old, new to swim lessons, carefully tried lowering her mouth, then nose, then eyes into the water, and before long she was gliding off the steps, kicking and emboldened and strong. Half-way through her first day, she suddenly started cheering, "I love swimming lessons! This is the best day of my life!" Success.

The other day I spent a delightful 30 minutes with a teenage girl with Down syndrome. Her favorite thing to do was go under water together, sit on the bottom, then wave at each other before twirling around in circles, coming up for air, and doing it again. Again and again. She stared at me through her enormous snorkel goggles and I marveled at the pure silence surrounding us, the simplicity of the moment. It was the kind of fun most people of a certain age don't allow you to have.

At the end of that day I swam back and forth across the deep end with a bookish 9-year-old boy who loved to chat. We discussed butterfly kick, and after giving it a quick try, he returned to the wall and proclaimed that, after backstroke, butterfly kick was his "favorite short distance water conduct." This is a direct quote. I laughed and commented on his choice of words and, after swimming another lap, he popped his head up and said, "If you're wondering about my vocabulary, it's probably like that because I spend 99% of my time reading books above my grade level. Mostly fiction."

3 comments:

Bunnymommy said...

Again you capture the essence. Miss you Shan. kathy

Joshua said...

I know this is a late comment, but you somehow always manage to take the seemingly ordinary and give it a brand new life of its own. The English language obviously doesn't know that it's met its match.

Claire W. said...

Can I please meet this kid? Seriously. In the mean time you should suggest a word-of-the-day flip calendar for him.