Meet Ethan. Ethan is a ten-year-old boy with mental and physical capacities significantly below that of other children his age. Ethan will never be able to get his driver’s license or purchase his first car. His parents will never have to limit his cell phone minutes because he doesn’t understand how to use a cell phone. He will never be able to take Calculus in high school, or experience certain aspects of life that fully capacitated children take advantage of every day. There are many things that Ethan cannot do, but Ethan can swim.
Ethan was one of the first swimmers I worked with at MarTar Swim School and he easily became one of my favorites; the brightness of his neon green bathing suit parallels his vivacious and eager personality. He affectionately rotates between calling me “Elmo” and “Cookie Monster,” a tribute to his love for Sesame Street. He always waves at me and splashes excitedly in the pool, sporting a 100-watt smile bright enough to make anyone’s day. Swimming, however, does not come as easily to Ethan as smiling does. Ethan’s cerebral palsy causes constant muscle stiffening and a lack of coordination between his upper and lower body muscles. In other words, he is bottom-heavy in the water: his pelvis and legs sink significantly more than they should. This causes severe tension in his neck as he attempts to keep his head tilted back and above water to breathe as his lower body sinks. In our lessons, I strove to reverse his body’s natural inclination to stiffen his muscles, especially those in his neck, while training his pelvic and leg muscles to support themselves in the water so he would be able to breathe and swim synonymously and comfortably. I strapped flotation devices to his stomach and upper thighs to create this muscle memory, hopeful that he would eventually remember proper alignment and kicking technique on his own. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest the day he wriggled out of the flotation aids and swam away from me! Since then, Ethan has learned to alternate breaths while swimming and he is now busy perfecting his backstroke.
When I dove into the pool for the first time last March, I had no idea that I would grow as much as my athletes would. Ethan taught me to quickly look past physical appearances and disabilities and to instead embrace the personality and soul behind the mask of one’s disability. He gave me patience, and showed me the importance of innovatory thinking in making each athlete’s experience worthwhile. He proved that no effort produces regress, that even the smallest bit of progress leads to success, and that success may be best measured on an individual basis. Every time Ethan jumps fearlessly into the pool towards me, I am truly gratified to observe and experience one of the greatest human capacities: to love and trust without reservation. The experience I have had with teaching mentally and physically disabled children has brought me joy and refined my perspective on everyday life; I will always appreciate the ability to function in the world independently, and I will always smile at the thought of Sesame Street.