Swimming Lessons – Managing the Drift and Squirm

My first job during high school was as a lifeguard at the swimming pool in Fort Bragg, North Carolina.  I had always liked to swim and had taken the Red Cross Lifesaving Course, as required.  The test went well, and I became part of a team of about 10 guards.

One of our duties was to teach swim lessons to young learners during the lesson hours before the pool opened for public swim.  With great confidence as a good swimmer, I started on that venture, figuring that surely, I could teach small children to swim.

My class was a beginner’s class was a group of about 8 children of 6 – 8 years of age.  The shallow end of the pool was a good place to start because even the smallest could stand with their head above the water.  I invited them to get into the water and encountered my first challenge.  Darn, some of the kids were afraid of the water, and didn’t want to get in.  At best it was very awkward to coax them into the water, and it was obviously this wasn’t a good start for them.  It wasn’t great for the others, either, as they had to wait for me to get everyone into the pool.  Meanwhile, they started to drift about, not floating, of course, but in small bobbing steps just seem to flit away.  I needed to get them all lined along the wall, but the class was in disarray.   There was more time spent getting the kids lined up.

I started with some first step on learning, according to the Red Cross approach.  It never seemed very intuitive to me, and it didn’t to the kids, either.  We made some progress during the hour.  Yet I was spending a lot of time trying to get the wee drifters back into a line along the wall.  I didn’t want anyone drifting behind me where I couldn’t easily see them.  At the end of the lesson, about all I was sure of was that they got wet, and we made a little progress on getting used to the water.

Now my mother had played some tennis that morning at the adjacent courts and had stopped by the pool to watch.  She had taken a seat well back from the edge of the pool.  That night at dinner, she asked me how the class went.  I don’t remember the exact reply, but at best it was “sorta OK”.  She asked a couple of questions about keeping the kids lined up, and how were they doing with their confidence in getting wet and into the water.  I admitted to some difficulty.

Then she began to share some thoughts from her own experience, both from playing and from teaching sports.  And what a difference it made!

She had a nice way of posing her suggestions as “here’s something you might try.”  The first was how to start with beginners.  Most are anxious about getting wet.  But wow, they love the idea of splashing someone else.  So, sit them on the edge of the pool.  Everyone’s still dry.  Then you tell them to turn and look at the person on the right.  “Now reach down into the water and splash them.  Ready, go!”  And that sounds exciting, and they do it with vigor.  Of course, the person behind them is doing the same thing to them.  Though you will see a grimace and a flinch, each is so pre-occupied with splashing someone else, it just doesn’t matter.  Then you stop, have them turn left, and repeat.  Now they know just what is going to happen, and they are mostly loving it.  Everyone is wet, and it was fun.  Fear hasn’t completely disappeared, but it is reduced, and now much easier to manage.

Her next suggestion was how to line up the kids, and it’s sitting on the edge, not just standing along the wall in the pool.  Why?  In the water, it is very easy to drift.  Sitting on the edge, it takes a very large and obvious motion to go somewhere.  Generally, they just don’t do it.  Class discipline becomes much simpler.  The companion suggestion was how to handle the few cases where a child persisted in bad behavior.  It was very simple.  I would now just tell them to go sit at the back of the pool deck, about 10 feet from the edge of the pool.  That would only be for a minute or so before inviting them back to join their mates.  They would prefer to be with their companions rather than be apart.  It was always a straightforward “Joey, go sit back there.”  No anger or stern voice needed.  It was a rare need.  The individual quickly realized it was better to stay included.  The other students note that they don’t want to be in the penalty box.

The next set of suggestions proved amazing for almost instantly learning some of the critical comfort reflexes of swimming.  Put your head underwater without holding your nose, after all you need both hands to swim.  Open your eyes underwater.  Exhale underwater.

Here’s how it works.  For this exercise, the entire class is in the water and paired up as partners.  The partners face each other and grab hands, palm to palm.  You show them how to interlock their fingers and tell them to hold tight.  That’s good because that tight grip brings comfort and security.  As they stand there, heads and hands just above the water, the diabolical purpose is not yet evident.  “Stay very close to your partner.”  That keeps them from just leaning forward to only wet their face.  You tell them to take a deep breath, and on the count of three, drop down and put your whole head under the water.  And they do it.  At some point when they immerse their heads, at least some may want to grab their nose.  Not a chance.  Their hands are locked with their partner.  And they survive the experience.  Many will come up quickly disentangling their fingers, so they can wipe their face, yet the good work is done.  After a couple of repeats, it’s almost all proud smiles and grins when they come to the surface.

The next two skills also become fun.  It’s the same partner approach, holding hands. Now we want each of them to get very close face to face, and when you go underwater, check and see if your partners eyes are open.  Telling on your partner sounds good, and most check; a few don’t.  On this exercise, I would have to go under and do a scan to make sure everyone is telling the truth and really checked.  Again a few repeats, and the class now has vision underwater.

The final key piece of the sequence is to exhale underwater.  Again, they get close to their partners, and “When I count to three, go under and blow bubbles in your partners face.”  They do and come up giggling.

That’s what I learned that evening from my mother.  There were a few additional techniques such as how to have them try to pick up things from the bottom and in the process, discover that they float.

I came to enjoy teaching swimming, a lot.  I was learning as much for me, I think, as I was teaching.  How does a learner accumulate skills when each new skill compounds on the previous, until all the pieces assemble to a complete skill?  How do you diagnose an inhibition or glitch in a stroke, and find an exercise to remedy it?  How do you keep the whole process enjoyable enough so that the personal gain for the learner makes it worthwhile to persist, even when something is hard or confusing?  And how do you keep the whole class moving together, so no one is left behind?

There is something magical when a new learner, who may have been afraid of the water, sets off to swim all the way across the pool for the first time, and makes it!  The look of joyous pride from the other side is priceless.  The same happens from the terrifying height of the high diving board, taking that first accompanied jump.  They bob back to the surface, still alive, with exhilaration.

I’ve felt fortunate over my life to have worked for and with many talented people.  Yet the 20 minutes my mother took to suggest some teaching techniques has been one the greatest lessons of my life.  The same spirit I learned to apply from her guidance continue to re-emerge as central to so much of what I’ve experienced, including the business world.

An Epilogue

My wife Cheryl had always wanted to swim.  It was only a few years ago that she and I found the right circumstances to commit to the regular time, at a good facility, to take on that task.  She had tried a few times before in group classes, long ago.

We set off on the quest.  Now learning as an adult is much more of a challenge than learning as a young child.  Everything I had needed to teach beginners proved critical, with patience and her persistence, to reach the milestones that mark progress.  She was a determined learner.  Today, she is accomplished and confident swimmer.