Direct Instruction: How I learned to swim.

 I  paddled around in the water but you wouldn't call it swimming.  I sat along the side of the pool  with green-eyed envy watching the graceful strokes of those who mastered the art of getting their face wet.  And at 42 years old I was definitely behind the curve and didn't have a moment to lose, considering that 5-year-olds could swim better than I could. So, I took private lessons - FROM AN 18 YEAR-OLD. (I put that in caps emphasizing the indignation of someone who at that time had been a teacher for many, many years.) Well, this little gal was a really good teacher. First, she got in the water with me. She didn't stand in high heels along the edge and bark out orders or lecture me on the theory of swimming. She didn't let me flail about, figuring it out for myself. She was chest deep in the water demonstrating how to breath from side to side. She modeled it, and then I did exactly what she did. At least I tried to. It took a few times to get it right. When I did it wrong, she stopped me immediately and modeled again. Next, she showed me the basic crawl stroke. Standing still in the water, I moved my head from side to side while stretching forward with my arms, one at a time. She took the skill apart, presented each piece to me, let me practice with feedback, then combined the components together. And that's how I learned how to swim. Within a couple of lessons, I was swimming like that proverbial fish. I was no longer banked along the sidelines whispering - I wish. I was swimming. And that my friends is direct instruction.