Made of Steel: a Personal Narrative on Overcoming Challenges to Become a Lifeguard

I stood in the middle of the hallway, staring blankly at the wall. I had never been in the halls in the middle of the period before and it was painfully quiet compared to the usual hustle and bustle in between classes. Between the names being called on the intercom and the conversations between students about the latest gossip and Mrs.Beth's most recent geometry quiz, it was impossible to even hear yourself think. If there was a cricket at the other end of the hall at that time, I probably would have been able to hear it.

I wasn't just staring at a wall. I was actually staring at a bunch of posters. Some of them had bright colors with big bubble lettering, probably written out by the upperclassmen students. Most of them were advertising for class officer elections and nominations for homecoming court but none of those posters were of much interest to me. As a freshman, I was not allowed to vote or participate in things like elections and homecoming. The one poster that did catch my eye was actually rather small compared to the other ones hanging around it on the wall. It had a picture of a girl in a swimsuit with a whistle in her mouth and a very serious look on her face. The poster said, "The American Red Cross: learn to save a life." To me, this sounded like a challenge. I love challenges.

The poster was advertising for the yearly lifeguard course that was offered in the fall by Coach Zee, the swimming and diving coach for my school's team. I used to work for him teaching swimming lessons on Saturday mornings. His sharp jaw line and intense green eyes make him look mean, and he can be a little intimidating at times. He is good at what he does. The course was six weeks long, three hours weeks, on Saturday mornings, just like swim lessons. The course didn't start for a few more weeks, but I grabbed an information sheet out of the pocket next to the poster and took it home with me. A few weeks later I found myself waking up at 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning, putting on a swimsuit and heading out the door to my first official lifeguard class. I had no idea what I was in for.

I sat on the cold bench that morning waiting nervously for Coach to come out of his office and get the class started. I looked around to see if I knew anyone else taking the course. There were 10 kids in the class and I only recognized about half of them. I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable when I heard Coach's voice. "Alright. Get in the pool. You're doing laps for 10 minutes."

I got up and walked over to the edge and looked down into the deep end of the pool thinking, "Dear Lord, what did I get myself into?" The freezing cold water shocked me for a second before I realized that everyone else was already halfway down the pool. I started swimming as fast as I could to catch up with the rest of the class.

The first few classes were a breeze. We always started off with laps because part of the lifeguard certification test is to swim 300 yards without stopping. Before then, I hadn't really swum laps before. I was more of a runner than a swimmer so the laps were a little difficult for me, but I fought through it. In the first three weeks I learned how to do slide-in entries, active and passive drowning rescues from the front and the rear, shallow water spinal rescues, multiple-victim rescues, front and rear head hold escapes and passed the infamous, dreaded brick test.

The brick test is the reason most trainees don't pass the lifeguard test. To pass, the trainees must retrieve a brick from the bottom of the 14-feet deep pool and swim it back to the shallow end in 2 minutes or less. It doesn't sound hard, but if you're not used to plunging down into the water that far, it can be difficult. At this point, the majority of the skills were completed and I passed all of them with flying colors. I was feeling very confident that I was going to pass and become a certified lifeguard. The only thing between me and my certification card was a written test and the last skill: deep-water spinal rescues.

It was the fourth class. After that one, I only had one more left in the pool and the written exam was on the sixth class day. Coach stood on the side and called out names to demonstrate the next skill, "James, Katie, Laura and Claire.. grab a tube and get to the middle. You're going to be my guinea pigs for the deep water spinal." Coach never called on me to demonstrate. I was the youngest in my class and the only one who wasn't already a certified lifeguard, so he had no reason to. I got out of the water, grabbed one of the shiny red tubes, put the fraying chest strap over my shoulder and jumped back in. As I stroked into the middle of the deep end, I started to wonder why he picked me. Coach never picks me.

As Coach gave us instructions on how to do a deep-water spinal rescue, I started to get queasy. I passed the brick test a few weeks before, but carrying a human body up from the bottom of the pool in the thirteen-foot deep end is completely different from carrying a little ten-pound brick up from that depth. I tried not to make myself nervous before I even tried it, but it was hard. I always bit my lip when I was nervous and before I even realized it, my lip was bleeding from biting on it so hard. Once Coach was done instructing, it was my turn to go down and do the rescue. All I had to do was go down next to the person, open my eyes, move the victim's arm, stabilize his head with a chin splint, drag him up at an angle and flip his body over before I get to the surface. In theory, it should be pretty easy.

I submerged myself quickly into the deep, icy water. I counted the steps in my head to make sure I did everything right. I didn't want to make a fool of myself the first time Coach called on me to demonstrate. Next I had to stabilize the head. I clamped my arms down on his chest and back so tightly I could've cracked one of his ribs. Now I just had to drag him up and flip him over, which turned out to be the hardest part. The boy who was playing victim for me was much bigger and heavier than me, so dragging his pretend limp body out of the water was a struggle. I fought so hard to tread through the water with his body in my arms. While I was swimming up to the surface, I got a feeling like I forgot something. I couldn't let this get to me because if I released my grasp on my victim even a little, I would have to start all over.

I got about halfway up before I started to flip him. I clamped my arms a little tighter on his chest and squeezed my right hand on his chin before I went under him. When I got to the other side of him, I felt water burning in my sinuses. Crap. By the time I finally got to the surface, I was exhausted and out of breath. I was only under the water for 30 to 40 seconds, but it felt like I was down there for five minutes. I coughed and gasped for air as Coach's deep, scary voice yelled out everything I did wrong. "Clemons... you didn't move the arm. You need to come up at more of an angle, and don't flip him until you get closer to the surface! It's more stable that way. Nice try. Laura, your turn."

Even though he was only 4' 11", coach was still pretty scary when he wanted to be. He had an angry look on his face all the time, which only added to the intimidation. I felt so stupid. Coach let me be the first to demonstrate and I couldn't do it right.

I felt so embarrassed and mad at the same time. It was almost the end of class so I probably wouldn't get to try again before class ended. I knew I would have to come in during open swim hours before school to practice if I wanted to pass. The anger I felt toward myself gave me the drive I needed to fight through and master the deep water spinal. I got up at 5a.m. everyday for the next week to go to the pool before school and practice dragging my incredibly nice friend, Kayleigh, out of the water. Thank God I have her. I don't know anyone else that would get up that early just to help me out.

By the end of the week, I finally had it down. I did a mental check every time I went down in the water so I didn't ever miss a step, and all the practice had me in good enough shape to be able to drag my friend up to the surface without being out of breath. Tomorrow was Saturday, my last chance to get it right in front of Coach, and I wasn't even the slightest bit nervous because I knew I could do it. I stood in front of the pool that morning, staring down into the deep end thinking, "It's just water, Claire, you can do this."

My thoughts were interrupted by Coach's deep, scary voice calling out, "Get in, kiddos, laps are being timed today for certification. I'm starting my watch in 10, 9, 8,7.." I quickly plunged into the icy cold water and got my ass moving. Today was the day and nothing was going to stop me. I was going to get certified. The whole time I was doing laps, I was just thinking about that deep water spinal. I was feeling so confident that I was actually excited to show Coach that I could do it. My excitement made time pass slower than usual. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours. Each lap seemed to take 20 minutes, but I was actually swimming faster than I ever had before. Once I finished my laps and got my time, I sat on the edge of the pool, just breathing. The air going in and out of my lungs felt so good. It felt so good to be alive. I was in a good mood because I was about to take down this lifeguard test. I was about to become a certified lifeguard. I could picture in myself in my head diving in the pool on a hot, summer day to save somebody. It made me really excited to think about my future as a lifeguard.

After waiting a few minutes for everyone to finish laps, it was finally time to get started. Coach rattled off names of people that still needed to test out skills and I volunteered to go first before anyone else had the chance to get a word in. Coach had a surprised look on his face and was almost speechless for a second before he said, "Alright Clemons, let's see what you're made of."

I thought to myself, "Steel, Coach. I'm made of steel." It was finally time. I jumped in the water and treaded water next to my partner while I waited for Coach to get settled on his chair with his clipboard to watch me. When he finally settled in and told me to go, I was ready.

I plunged down into the water next to my victim. "Okay Claire, now move the arm." I moved her arm and then I thought to myself, "Good, now put her in a head-chin support and start dragging her up. Time is ticking." I cupped my hand around her chin just like I was taught and clamped my arms on either side of her body. So far so good. I made sure to angle myself before I pushed off the bottom of the pool. I was not going to make any mistakes this time. I pressed my feet hard into the rough concrete on the bottom of the pool and pushed off. I kicked my legs so hard through the thick water and I was barely getting anywhere. I might as well have been trying to swim through a pool full of chocolate pudding.

I started to get scared for a second that I wasn't going to make it, but it went away quickly. My determination triumphed over my doubt. When I got to the middle of my journey to the surface of the pool, I went under the victim to flip her. I did it quicker this time so I didn't get any water in my nose, which by the way was a success. I held on so tight through the flip there was no chance of losing stabilization. After that, the last few feet took ages to get through. I kicked and kicked and kicked only to move a little bit. At last, I reached the surface. I took a huge breath in and as I let the air out of my lungs, I smiled. I did it.

Over the next week, I studied the lifeguarding manual that coach gave me at the beginning of the class. I had no doubts about passing the written test. I had lost all my confidence in myself when I messed up in front of the whole class, but now that I had proved to myself that I could do it, I had no doubts. I daydreamed all week about my future as a lifeguard, sitting in the high chairs with my shades on in my red swimsuit. It was exhilarating to think about. I truly believe in myself now and there is nothing that can ever get in the way of me reaching my goals. I will never let anything get me down and inhibit my success again.

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