Personal Narrative: My Swim Coach

It was one of those moments where the pressure was on me. And this was one of those moments, which I’ve been dreading ever since I started swim team. It was a race between Liann Tran, one of the fastest people I know, and myself. We knew each other ever since we were infants, and Liann’s mom was the one that recommended my mom to sign me up for swim team. From there on, we began swimming with each other throughout the yearlong season with the Cascade Swim Team that ends during the summer. Throughout the summer, we were in the Southern Division Championship for Summer Swim League. At that time, I didn’t really have a choice but to swim with different coaches at the Southwest pool because I didn’t have a ride to the Rainier Beach pool.

A warm morning, sun shining with a slight breeze, and calm waters; the perfect day to learn how to water ski. I had never been water skiing before, I barely knew what it was, I was anxious to say in the least. I stood on the dock as my parents maneuvered the boat into the water, I’ve never been so uncertain. My family reassured me that everything would be okay as I was strapped up my life jacket. I stood on the edge of the boat, apprehensive, but I had to jump in the water, it was now or never.

It was mid season, I had just made section time in the 100 backstroke a week ago. I was on my way to being top four on the Sartell swim team, and making the state team. Then one day during the beginning of practice I came above the surface of the water but something was off. I looked around and everyone was looking at me. I thought I just went fast or made a weird noise, but I was wrong. The coach came over and told me to go to the showers. I was concerned because the workout was not over yet. I went to the showers and rinsed off, I still did not know what was wrong. Then I looked in the mirror. My face was a bumpy, gross tomato.

In my school and community, we have found that there is a large setback with the incoming freshmen and their ability to adapt to the new atmosphere and changes of high school. They either have social problems, home life problems, or high school is just a huge change for them. Six years ago, my school created a program hoping to solve that problem, the mentor/leadership program, which is open to juniors and seniors. I applied, and was accepted into this program my junior year. In the mentor program you meet with a freshmen every week and discuss some of the challenges they are facing while adjusting to high school. You are also able to discuss personal problems during your session as well, like home life or self confidence struggles. When you first enter the program, you go through an eight week training period. The training includes confidentiality, building rapport, how to get a connection, and digging deeper into questions to get to know your freshmen. Throughout the year, your freshmen, or mentee, becomes a lot closer to you, and you build such

I walked slowly towards the water as if trying to deny an inevitable death. Before I know it, I am shaking as I get on my gear, hardly able to hear what anyone was saying over the crashing of rapids. All of this equipment on me makes the impression as if we were going to space. I get my single person boat and start paddling into the river. The smell of plants and the overgrowth of algae are pleasing as I calmly ride the current. I spot rapids coming up in the distance, and I get utterly nervous. My brother, Ben, is to the right of me looking just as anxious as I am. As we approach the whitewater rapids, I am not gaining any bit of confidence.

It happened on June 11, 2015. My lacrosse team won our regional quarter final game the previous day—I scored my personal best of five goals and was named Player of the Game. As a reward for the win, my coach gave us a three hour practice the next day that was strictly conditioning—leaving the seniors 30 minutes to go home, shower, change, and drive to our Senior Dinner at Bowdoin College. I raced home from practice, my sweat sticking to the car leather seats, music blasting, and the wind in my hair. I had the future on my mind: playoffs, graduation, summer, and college. I took an ice cold shower and threw on a dress, making my way to Bowdoin 15 minutes late (and still sweating). I went through the motions of the Senior Dinner that night: I

On Saturday, September 9th, I went to the Enabling Aquatics session at the YMCA in Santa Rosa. I went from 10:15 to 12:40.

Premier Sportsman, Inc., is compiled of generations of hunters. Growing up, I was given many

Athletic training and sports medicine has always been a passion of mine. Second semester, my freshman year in high school was when I first began to work with the varsity softball team and tryout for the high school team. While participating on this team, I was also working with a travel team for the summer. At practice for my summer team, the day before the season started for my high school team, was one of the most traumatic experiences I 've every gone through in my whole life. Half way through the scrimmage at practice, I was running the bases when I felt a “pop” in my leg and immediately collapsed and screamed for help. At that moment was when my life changed and my softball playing career almost ended. Driving to the emergency room 30 mins away, felt like hours because I was scared out of my mind.

Coaching has many different fields that goes along with the job. For instance, there is baseball, softball, tennis, track, cross country, basketball, and football. All these different types of sports require coaches. Some of these fields of coaching require more practice, time, and patience than others. The most time consuming sport would have to be football, this would be a good job for people who have allot of free time.

WSTC formally known as Wayland Swim and Tennis Club isn't just a swim club to its members. It serves as a summer home for them. The light brown curvy pathway leads directly to the old wooden sign in tabel. The table has lost a leg, but it still stands there every year welcoming anyone who reaches it. Names are etched into the table from years prior adding a sense of charm to what some might call junk. Little girls with hair in braids, and tan skin sit there making bracelets that sparkle with joy in the sunlight. A glance to the left shows the white wooden rocking chairs that dance to the beat of the tennis balls on the court below. The courts seem to go on forever however, there are only just three. Laughter lingers in the air as the tennis balls soar in the sky. A step or two to be back on the

The next couple of weeks were not much different, and I struggled to keep up with the challenging practices. I was becoming more familiar with my lane, and I was getting to know some new people. My coach was still a stranger to me, and just a man giving directions to me back then. I was intimidated by him, and I felt like he was watching my every move. Wanting to impress him, I

The woman that I had choose to interview is a Teacher, a mentor to many students, and a dear friend of mine. Her name is Andrea Micallef. She would say that she a Graphic Designer that came from Industry, not “Academia.” She used to freelance by doing Identity/Branding for companies (designed The Guitar Center logo) and taught at Universities. But she left all of that to teach at El Camino College (ECC) and is a volunteer for “Meals on Wheels.” The first time I had met Andrea was in the beginning of the spring semester of 2008 at ECC, when I was enrolled in her Typography class that she was teaching at the time. Frankly, my first impression of her was not positive. I felt that she was very intimidating and load-spoken. I wanted to drop the class after the first day, but I had to stay enrolled due to financial aid. However, after surviving a couple of months in her class, her style of teaching started to make sense. She was trying to teach us “how” to think instead of “what” to think. When I first came to ECC I was undeclared for years. I didn’t know what major to because I was always told that Art was just a hobby—not a career. I used to believe that until met her. I feel that I owe it to her because she

When I was eight years old, I joined the Shaker Sharks swim team. I was put in the lowest group and struggled to swim even a 25. I considered swimming a hobby at best, not even realizing it was a sport. Two years later, my family and I moved to Solon. I switched teams to join the Solon Stars Swim Club.

The sound of the whistle jolted me into action. I dove from the block, and a wave of silence crashed over me as I hit the water. For a moment, there was a sense of serenity as I swam under the surface. The spell broke as I rose for air. I could hear everyone yelling and cheering. Tuning out the noise, I tucked my head under the water, staring at the pool’s tiled floor. Nearing the wall, I lifted my head to gather a breath of air before my flip turn to start my second lap. Looking up, I saw five of my team members at the end of my lane cheering for me. With a renewed energy from their excitement, I turned and continued the race. After the race was over and I was out of the pool, I took my hard-earned ribbon and scurried back to where my swim