Swimming (ly)

Firstly, a confession (and I realize that in my new American dialect I should be saying 'first' rather than 'firstly', but I'm feeling a little bit scared about being too American today). I confess that I'm not a great 'swimming' mom. In part this is because I'm not a great swimmer (too many memories of not being able to see anything in the space between taking off my specs and reaching the side of the pool), I'm a bit squeamish about poolside hygiene (veruccas and stray hairs and all those lost band-aids floating about under the water), and I'm not very good at helping my children swim. In fact, there have been instances where my 'not-a-great-swimming-mom' has endangered my children's lives. For instance, there was a time in Barbados when we encouraged Maya to jump from the side of the pool into our arms and then watched in horror as she missed and slowly sank; there was another time in Whitley Bay when I encouraged Maya to get into the pool before her swimming lesson and then watched in slow motion horror as each time she kicked her legs her head went a little further under the water (eventually I jumped in after her and spent the rest of the lesson with my jeans dripping puddles around my bare feet)... But they have survived so far, and we continue with the swimming lessons.

Secondly, another confession. I really really like the Massachusetts' approach to raising children. It's upbeat, positive, and encourages a 'can-do' attitude (in fact, at the front of Iola's kindergarten class is a big poster saying 'we are can-do kids'). When the children fall over at basketball, for example, they are scooped up, brushed off, given a high-5 and sent off to finish the game. They are expected to realize that life is fun and that attitude is everything. They are expected to believe that they can do anything and I am 99 and three-quarter percent behind this. It's a great way to treat children and Maya and Iola are thriving. Iola's favorite word is awesome and she'll high-5 her basketball coach, kindergarten teacher, swimming instructor and so forth until the cows come home.

I'm just not sure that it's a good way to learn to swim.

In England, there are learner pools. Shallow areas where children splash about with floats and woggles and gain the confidence to put their faces in the water. When I rescued Maya, the water only came up to my knees. It's all about technique - they learn to starfish (float with their faces in the water), and rocket (cruise with their faces in the water). At swimming lessons in Tynemouth, the focus was upon encouraging the children to run really fast across the pool so that they would trip and, you've got it, put their faces in the water. It's a slow process and it's resulted in Maya's beautiful technique which means that she can, very slowly, move across the pool in flawless front crawl or butterfly (with her face in the water).

In Cambridge, there is the YMCA. The YMCA is great - it's upbeat, has fantastic front desk staff, wonderful basketball coaches, and even provides free boxing lessons for children (which Maya politely declined while Iola is counting the 426 days until she is old enough totake part). The YMCA in Cambridge is also the third oldest in the US and it is a little 'tired'. I have no problem with old pools, they have their own charm: little shiny white tiles, mosaics, bits of history. For example, they renovated Portobello Swimming Baths while we were living nearby and it is a joy (see right). They haven't renovated the swimming pool in Cambridge YMCA. It has a delicious authenticity which I am, unfortunately, unable to appreciate.

The Cambridge YMCA pool is also quite deep. There is no 'learner' pool or 'baby' pool or 'children's pool'. There is just the swimming pool. Just one 30 yard long expanse of 5 ft deep water. The children who have learnt to swim here are great - they have a fantastic can-do attitude and bravely leap straight out of their depth. They might not have Maya's technique, but they certainly know not to pause mid-length to put down a sneaky foot.

It's safe. I reassure myself that it's safe. In Iola's non-swimming class, each child has a float tied to their middle and then they're released out into the pool like a swarm of splashing puppies. Rather than encouraging the children to put their faces into the water, they are encouraged to keep their faces above the water. This evening one small girl required a little additional encouragement and a larger red float from the lifeguard - but the discourse was very positive and the child didn't drown. And, in absolute fairness to the wonderful way in which children are raised around here, the child didn't cry. I don't know if she high-5ed the lifeguard because my eyes were fixed on Iola, but she certainly had a great can-do attitude.

On the positive side, I am overcoming my phobias about dirty changing rooms. In fact, I barely noticed the nappy in the corner and the slight smell in the air because I was so utterly relieved that both girls had emerged from the pool unscathed. I have not checked their feet for veruccas.

Another positive is that I can see the results of this approach in the children who learned here and, now in Maya's class, splash past her as they complete their allocated set of lengths.

It's just that I'm not sure what happens to the children who don't learn to swim here.... not the children who haven't attended the lessons, but the ones who did attend the lessons but never quite mastered the 'can-do' elements of this kind of swimming. I suspect that somewhere there are therapists who treat women who are even further down the 'not-a-great-swimming-mom' spectrum than me!