Learning to Swim

When I was a young teenager my father built us a large swimming pool with a deck which made us very popular among kids in the neighborhood. It wasn’t unusual for kids to ask to swim even when we weren’t in the pool ourselves. And if they were responsible or had someone to watch them my parents would let them.
One day a neighborhood girl, about 15, was in the water with a younger girl, maybe 7 or 8. The older one was evidently supposed to teach the younger one to swim but it wasn’t going well. The older one would demonstrate treading water and the younger would complain and just paddle around in the shallow end. I left for about a half hour and when I passed by a second time the little girl was hysterical, screaming that she didn’t want to learn to swim and hated the water. The older girl wasn’t having much fun either but there was a look of grim determination on her face and she ignored the crying and kept demonstrating strokes and holding the child up so she could practice the crawl without submerging.
The little girl cried and screamed that she wanted to go home and I quickly left again to get away from the unpleasant scene.
Maybe an hour later the yelling subsided and I went outside to check on them.
The younger child was swimming on her own, tentatively, but with delight. Occasionally, she would swim to the older girl, hug her around the neck, and say, “Thank you for teaching me to SWIM!” and then push away to demonstrate her new skill.
Learning is a little like climbing a steep mountain: there is a moment when you have to let go of the security of where you are and reach for a higher spot. That moment brings risk and fear and a tinge of resentment that you are being pushed to reject your old beliefs to get a better understanding, a higher view.
Rejecting what you knew — even what you were — the moment before can be daunting and emotional. The thrill of learning is often combined with some flailing about. And teachers are often resented before they are esteemed.
We are all teachers. We are all called upon at some time to help someone reach a higher view. When I’m called upon I try to picture that older girl in the pool, grim determination etched on her face resolutely helping her young friend grow right before my eyes.