I wrote this essay for UT. I think it sums up my summer perfectly.
"Coach Cwwwisssstina!"
This summer I was not known simply as "Christina;" I was "Coach Cwwwissssstina," assistant coach of
the Tanglewood Tarpon's Swim Team. Each morning I woke up at 6:30, forfeiting my precious sleep that
I desire so much in the summer to run to the pool a few streets away and unlock the gates. By seven
o'clock a steady trickle of kids had entered the pool and began practice. By ten o'clock all the itty-bitties
(or "Mini-Tarpons," as I adoringly call them) spastically ran onto the pool deck, screeching, "What do we
get to swim NOW?" over and over again. Day in, Day out, six days a week, I sacrificed my mornings to
teach children to swim. The monotony of my summer was not a loss, however.
I realized the influence I had over the small fries halfway through the summer. I had a summer job as a
lifeguard at the same pool, and I was constantly on the stand working. After a few weeks of coaching, I
noticed a trend: each day I worked, any kid on swim team who saw me would run up to me and wrap their
tiny arms around my waist and squeeze me as tight as they possibly could. Their affections did not end
there, however. At swim meets they would sit in my lap, and ask me to cheer them on, which I dutifully
did. Towards the end of the summer as the season ended I realized how much I loved my job. Every
morning I woke up to grinning faces who were eager to learn the tricks of the trade, and always begging
for piggy-back rides. At the end-of-the-season party I could barely pull the kids off me. They gave me
gifts and called me the "number one coach." I felt so appreciated, and honored to have little kids looking
up to me.
A few months after the season ended, I lost one of my small fries to a terminal illness. I sat in his
funeral solemnly, tears welling up in the back of my eyes. I suppressed my sadness for the sake of my
other children, also there paying respect. I hugged my teammates and wiped the tears off their small faces,
assuring them it would be okay. I suppose a coach's job never ends; I am thankful for this. I am grateful
to always have smiling faces to greet me each morning, and small arms latched around my waist.
