SNAP Mondays | Special Needs Aquatics Program

Today was my first day with SNAP, or Special Needs Aquatic Program, which is held at Berkeley Warm Pool. I got trained for it yesterday, both in therapeutic technical information and actually simulating in the water. During the whole orientation, I wanted to cry. There was just something about the way the director spoke of the children who attend this program that moved me to tears. The whole program's mission is centered around the equalizing nature of water. I've never thought much about the therapeutic nature of swimming, because swimming on a team in high school meant winning championships, becoming fit, making friends, building discipline, becoming a faster swimmer. Everyone was doing it to achieve some sort of mainstream goal.

Humor me for a minute. Think about your posture, right now. You are probably sitting in a chair, with your arms stretched in front of you at your laptop. Your back and abdominal muscles are engaged, your spine is holding your head up. If your roommate calls, you can turn your head and answer. If you drop something, you can bend over and pick it up. We have so much mobility that we take for granted.

Not so with the SNAP kids. Most of the children have mild to severe motor and cognitive disabilities. But when they are in the water, they are released into the world of possibility and mobility.

My child, E, is seven years old and the most active bundle of energy I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Before he even got into the water, he eagerly tore off his clothes (with the help of his mother) and waded towards the steps to the pool. He dipped his toes in, splashed around, and squealed loudly. His mother had told me that he doesn't talk much, but can understand if I speak slowly and repetitively to him. He can put his face in the water, and he knows how to float. I didn't ask much else other than the usual safety precautions and limitations; we aren't told his disability, so as to not pigeonhole his abilities. I think it's a great policy, and it will be great to discover the child's own personality and needs.

For some unknown reason, I was the only unpaired helper, and E was the only strong-swimming SNAP kid.

We started off with a pendulum, which basically means holding him under his armpits and rocking him side by side (I almost said laterally, darned IB131L) to get him used to the feeling of water. He quickly tired of that, squirmed away from my grasp, and dove underwater to grab my legs. E also loves to splash and scream. The other helpers had a look of sympathy on their faces as they gently floated around their quiet four-year old girls with more severe muscle weakness, but I had so much fun!

I don't think I've ever intentionally sucked in 91-degree pool water to spit it out as a game, had my face sneezed on, played peekaboo underwater, or been kissed by a little boy standing on my legs.

Okay that all sounds incredibly unsanitary, but whatever. It's a pool. It's a program. I'm hoping my immune system will support me in this. I think I already love this.

God is so good in pouring into me so I can pour into others.