By Coco Jane
I taught Carol and Cindy to dog-paddle in the shallow end of the pool while the other freshman girls practiced their backstroke, compared bodies, and—catty as always—ignored their awkward classmates.
Until today.
I lined up teams at the starting blocks for a relay race. Expecting moans and eye rolls, I announced that Carol and Cindy would swim first across the shallow end: “Lanes 1-3-5, start when Carol reaches the other side, lanes 2-4-6 when Cindy gets there.”
I blew the starting whistle. As my dog-paddlers floundered along, I heard, “Go, Cindy! C’mon, Carol! Keep swimmin’!”
Gotta love ninth graders.
As a lifelong doggy-paddler, that was refreshing. Nice one!
Thanks. Something like this actually happened. I was a student in that class.
Nice picture of high schoolers. I could see them rolling their eyes and moaning at other times.
Thanks. I taught high school, so I saw plenty of this.
Thanks for the story Coco Jane, but you don’t have to be a ninth-grader to experience the eye rolls and snickers. I didn’t learn to swim until 20 years ago when I was the recipient of many snickers. Today at 79 I can still hold my own or outswim most of the general population 50 years my junior.