After I said goodbye to my last class on Thursday and sat in the hot tub to relax for a few minutes, the sunset’s orange glow illuminated the natatorium and the aqua-aerobics class was playing some kind of Enya song or something. I began to meditate on what my last day to teach meant.
No more ritualistically soaking myself in chlorine for 4 hours every Tuesday and Thursday. (You don’t get used to it.) No more stressing about how some of my little swimmers like Angel, Seung-Ha, Yuturo, Savannah or Kathleen just aren’t meant to be in the water.
The smile of a parent who’s just seen their child swim for the first time is probably the only thing I’ll miss but to me, these don’t outweigh how bad it feels when a few students simply don’t have the multi-tasking skills to stay above the surface.
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