Sink or Swim

I was fine with all, especially the last one. I love to swim, and I have incredible lung capacity, which I developed when I was bored in class by testing how long I could hold my breath. As a camper, I would regularly freak out lifeguards who thought I might be drowning as I lounged under the water, cocooned in the muted sounds and pressures. To become a lifeguard, as was expected, was my pleasure, and I did it with pride.

But you know how life goes — it’s full of fun competing priorities, and the desire for both. I had that moment when I acknowledged that I wanted to be a shiur counselor and not just a lifeguard. For reasons I still don’t understand, my wish was granted (were they that desperate?). For one summer, I would be both lifeguard and shiur counselor. They made it clear that lifeguarding duties came first, which meant I never attended shiur prep, as it took place during first activity.

I was happy to miss it — remember, I’m the one who held my breath to keep from not shooting myself in class (among other diversionary tactics). But that meant I was planning my own lessons, which was tricky. I had a ton to share but wasn’t sure how valid my perspective was; I often found that I came at things from a different angle than my peers. Also, although I had finished high school already, I hadn’t earned a Hebrew diploma (sleeping was another thing I did a lot of in class). Imposter syndrome, here we come.

Of the two gazebos near the basketball courts, the one on the right was my shiur territory. Every day I’d welcome my girls as they ambled in, hot cocoas in hand, and squinted their eyes as they adjusted to the low light. We’d talk hashkafah, life; I don’t think I ever knew what parshah it was that week.