Miriam Small has taught thousands how to swim
Published 12:00 am Friday, September 12, 2008
By Katie Scarvey
kscarvey@salisburypost.com
Watching Miriam Small step down into the water clutching the hand of a trusting 2-year-old, you get the feeling she’s done this many times before.
She keeps up a patter of light conversation.
“Ella, you gonna help Miss Miriam get in the water?
“Is that cold on the belly?”
Ella shrieks and giggles as she eases her chubby little body down the pool steps.
“Ooh! We have to get used to that water!” Miriam says.
The lesson starts by getting Ella fully submerged.
“Which ring do you want to pick up?” Miriam asks.
After deciding on the pink one, which is dropped to the bottom of the pool, Ella plunges her face into the water and wriggles like a tadpole to retrieve the ring.
She emerges, dripping and sleek as a seal.
After fetching a handful of the plastic rings, Ella is breathing hard. Her tongue is shooting in and out ó which seems to mean that she’s focused, excited and having fun.
Miriam has been giving Ella Jones swimming lessons since the spring of 2007, when she was 1.
Before Ella’s sessions with Miriam, her parents, Kevin and Cybil Jones, worked with her at home in the tub, doing movements with her that Miriam had suggested.
Now, Miriam works with Ella once a week, although twice is better, she says.
Later in the session, Miriam has Ella swim to Kevin.
“Kick hard and go to Daddy!”
Once she gets there, Miriam commands Ella to roll over and float on her back. Her voice is forceful, not cajoling.
“That’s super important,” says Ella’s grandmother Carol Walter, who’s observing the lesson that is taking place at her pool. “Floating is one of the first things they learn.”
Cybil and Kevin knew that Ella would be a frequent visitor at her grandmother’s house ó which was a big factor in their decision to teach her how to swim at such a young age. And while Cybil doesn’t anticipate that Ella would ever be unsupervised by the pool, she is aware that accidents happen, and that sometimes, children drown.
Every once in a while, Ella sputters and coughs.
“Did you get a bite of water?” Miriam asks, concerned, but not too concerned.
She’s seen this plenty of times before.
“Spit it out!”
nnn
Miriam is 80 years old and proud of it. She has been a swimming instructor for 53 years, in North Carolina and in Florida where she lived for many years, working with all ages, from babies to senior citizens.
She has taught thousands of people to swim ó and many remember her. She still gets birth and wedding announcements from the “babies” she’s taught, reminders of how many lives she’s touched.
“I’m still able to contribute,” she says. “That’s what life’s about.”
She has a history with this family; in fact, she taught Ella’s grandmother, Carol, how to swim many years ago.
Carol explains her family’s connection with Miriam.
Miriam, she says, is the best friend of her mother, Barbara Thomason. When Miriam got married, Barbara was her maid of honor. When Miriam moved to England because her husband was in the service, she sent a letter to Barbara with news of her pregnancy. At the same time, Barbara’s own letter was crossing the Atlantic ó telling Miriam that she, too, was pregnant.
Miriam is thrilled to be teaching her friend’s great-granddaughter.
“I’m so happy with what she’s accomplished,” Miriam says. This winter, she plans to teach Ella how to turn her head while she breathes.
Ella’s parents are pleased with how their daughter has progressed. “It’s amazing how well she swims,” Cybil says.
Soon ó possibly by the time you read this ó Ella will have a brand-new sibling, and Miriam will begin working with the baby at around 5 months.
Miriam still enjoys swimming for exercise. “It makes you feel so good,” she says. When she can’t swim, she walks on her treadmill at home, which is “not fun” she says, but “necessary.”
“I am truly blessed,” she says. “I’m in pretty good health for an 80-year-old.”
Although she feels some aches and pains in the morning when she wakes up, within an hour, she says, “I feel fine and can tackle the world.”
nnn
Born and raised in Salisbury, Miriam began to teach swimming in Charlotte in 1956 when her daughter was 2 years old. She was offered a season pass at a private pool if she taught for two weeks.
She started teaching beginners and found she loved it. She realized that she wanted to teach more than just beginners, so she got some training at Queen’s College.
She taught both her daughters, Linda and Angela, to swim at age 2. Both went on to teach swimming lessons for a time.
These days, Miriam isn’t seeking new students. When she does take one on, she does it “for love,” not money, she says.
Miriam advocates getting children comfortable with water when they’re in the bath. They need to get used to having water in their face and in their ears, she says.
It’s important, Miriam says, to put drops in the ears ó a mixture of half white vinegar and half grain alcohol ó after each session in order to prevent swimmer’s ear, which can be quite painful.
To teach swimming, she says, you need to be slow and deliberate.
Miriam urges parents not to give up on lessons just because a child may initially be uncomfortable or frightened.
“Children don’t want lessons,” she says matter-of-factly. “You gotta teach ’em anyway.”
Miriam is brutally honest with parents who want to yank their children out of lessons because of a few tears.
“I’d rather see your child cry and you teach your child to swim than to hear you cry afterward if your child drowns.
“That cry will never go away.”
“Miriam’s pretty direct,” Carol says. “But anything she says, she says it for a reason.”
Safety is paramount for Miriam.
“You never swim alone, and you never allow your child to swim alone,” she says. “You don’t swim alone, ever.”
Miriam applies that rule to herself as well ó and you get the feeling she’d say the same thing to Michael Phelps if she got the chance.
“Never, never never take your eyes off your children,” she says. “You can’t socialize when your children are in the water.”
The children she works with, Miriam says, soon get over their initial fear of the water ó and of her.
Before long, she says, “I don’t like you” turns into “I wuv you.”