Skip to main content

Treading Water

There is always a phase of starting over with swimming after a long winter off. My son has camp in a week and I want to make sure he can pass his swim test.
So we hit to pool.
We were in the deeper end and Owen was getting ansy. I remembered swim tests where we had tread water for a few minutes. So I tried to teach him. Thinking this was a skill that maybe he would need. You know, in case he is ever shipwrecked or takes up water polo. So I told him to move his arms and legs back and forth underwater.

And like a good teacehr, I attempted to demonstrate. But it I has been a while since I have tried to tread water, meaning I didn’t do it so gracefully.  I’m not sure there is actually a way to do it gracefully. The water wasn’t quite deep enough so I mostly just looked like was drowning. Thrashing about in shoulder deep water.

The life guard kept his eye on me, and Owen just looked at me like I was crazy. And asked,  “So which way do you go?”
“You don’t go anywhere Owen.”
Very puzzled,“ Then, what are you trying to do?”
“Keep my head above water”
“Why don’t you just stand up?”

Swim lesson over, and he went right back to going up and down the slide.

Clearly he was missing the point.
But his almost seven year old wisdom has stayed with me all week.
I have been barely keeping my head above water for a while now.
I’ve been trashing. And kicking.
Not going anywhere.
And I haven’t drowned. But I sure am worn out.
And it never dawned on me just to stand up.


Comments

Kate said…
My daughter has been in swim classes this spring, and I'm amazed to see they are taught to float on their backs when tired or needing to breath.

Treading water is exhausting. Float a little.

Popular posts from this blog

multiple choice

As I write I am procturing a test ( yes on a Saturday, and no I am not getting paid for it.) The room is silent. The only noises I hear are pencils scratching on papers and pages turning. If I listen closely enough I swear I can hear their brains turning. I have always been a good test-taker. I would still regularly brag about my SAT scores if it wre socially appropriate to do so(or an actual indicator of anything meaningful). There is something comforting about multiple choice. (well as long as you don't have the crappy all of the above or none of the above choices...just the classic A, B, C, D variety). There are parameters. Multiple choice means you have options. The right answer is right in front of you, and all you have to do is find it. Even if you don't actually know which one the right answer is there are usually clues, it can be narrowed down or worked backwards. Even a blind guess is likely to be right 25% of the time. These aren't bad odds. All you have t...

Turning the question

My school has been sending me to some inquiry training. The “i” word has been thrown around since my education classes in college. It is one of those things that is really good as a concept but kind of hard to pull off in the classroom well. For lots of reasons. But the big one number is because teachers are reluctant to let go of the control. To let the kids loose with a concept and see where they end up. Let them discover, own it and share out all on their own. Without intervening. Then push them a little bit further and clear up any misconceptions that they are holding onto before they slip out your door. This is supposed to be the most meaningful way for a kid to learn. For them to discover rather than memorize. One of the other problems with inquiry and science is that kids have stopped learning how to ask questions. My son bombards me with whys all day long. Why are owls nocturnal? (which comes out a lot more like “not-turtles”) Why do I have to take a shower? Why ...

Meet the teacher

People keep asking me how I am or if I am going to cry. And few weeks ago, I kept saying no. I mean, I am used to dropping Owen off everyday at school. Or I’m at least used to Shaun dropping him off. I am used to school. I do it everyday. But. The first day is Monday. His and mine. And I am not ready. And I don’t just mean that my syllabus isn’t copied and that there are boxes all over my room. That would be true. But I am having doubts about my kid entering this world. The kind with lockers and buliten boards and hall passes. And tests. A world where from now on, he will be receiving a grade. Where he will be compared, judged, scolded, and ranked. We met his teacher the other night. Turns out I taught her son not too many years ago. Owen was off playing within seconds with a friend from his soccer team. Tearing the room apart. Ecstatic when he saw a big tub of legos. He will be just fine. But I wasn't so sure about me. I was suddenly filled with questions. The basic ones. Like how...