In the weeks ahead of Allyson's 15th birthday, she started filling out job applications online, mainly for minimum-wage restaurant jobs that she might not have enjoyed much. She did want to work at Braum's Ice Cream and Dairy, most likely for the employee discount, but they never even acknowledged her application even though their sign said they were hiring. Despite the labor shortage that's been all over the news, she didn't get a single interview call during weeks of searching. I figured the problem might be her limited availability due to a very full soccer schedule. Or maybe it was her young age, but many of her friends had been working for months by then.
Although I didn't say it out loud, I was skeptical that she could find a job that would work with her erratic schedule. Due to the aforementioned soccer, she'd have to be out for up to a week at a time for tournaments and would be available only mornings some days and only evenings on others due to games and practices. Still, I felt sure she would nail the interview if she could just land one; Allyson is mature for her age and very articulate, as well as responsible and teachable.
The start of summer vacation came, and she was still jobless, but she made good use of her idle time by volunteering at the Botanic Garden. A few weeks earlier, she had searched for volunteer opportunities that fit with her prospective field of environmental science. She found the site, filled out the paperwork, and signed up for a virtual orientation all on her own.
Although Allyson had never done any planting except for helping with a few family gardens when she was a very small girl, she was a natural. On her first day, she was planting bulbs in little pots. On other shifts, she transplanted plants, pruned trees, and trimmed topiary sculptures (bushes shaped like giraffes, elephants, etc.). When she came home from her shifts, it was much different than coming home from school, where most of her days are simply "fine." She told me all about not only the plants she'd cared for, but also about the interesting characters she met, such as a botanist from Russia. The majority of the volunteers are retirees, but Allyson felt comfortable conversing with them from the start. At the annual appreciation luncheon, she and the friend she brought along were the only people under 60, but she still had a great time.
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| First Day on the Job |
Despite the fun of learning a new hobby and meeting lots of people, Allyson still wanted gainful employment, yet she was almost too busy to apply for jobs, let alone work them. She continued to keep her eyes open for opportunities, but it was her father who found the right one. At their neighborhood pool one Friday, he struck up a conversation with the teenage lifeguard and learned two things: (1) the job was fun and easy; and (2) like everyone else around the country, they desperately needed new employees.
The timing was perfect, if a bit tight; a lifeguard training class was starting that Monday. All Allyson had to do was take about 15 hours of online training over the weekend and show up for the training. She had the option to have the training fee deducted from her future paychecks or to pay in advance. Either way, she would owe the money regardless of whether she could pass the rigorous physical requirements and the written exam.
Of course, I knew that Allyson could swim because she'd learned at the age of three, when we got our pool at the old house. But I'd never thought of her as a particularly strong swimmer capable of rescuing a drowning person. "What do you have to do to pass?" I asked dubiously.
"I have to swim 300 yards, doing the breaststroke and freestyle. I have to tread water for three minutes without using my arms."
"Wow! That's really hard," I said, frowning.
"And I have to dive down 12 feet and bring up a 10-pound brick," she concluded.
"Do you think you can do all that?"
"Well, I think so. Can I go to the pool tomorrow to practice?"
"Yes, but don't wear yourself out. Save some energy for Monday," I advised.
Allyson spent most of the weekend doing her online training and watching a few YouTube videos for pointers, but she found time for a couple of hours at the pool on Sunday. When she came out, she reported that treading water without her hands was no big deal, but she admitted that she'd been unable to swim the 300 yards.
"What did you say would happen to the training fee if you don't pass?" I asked. She and her dad had opted to pay the money upfront, and I'd offered to pay half.
"Mama! Don't speak that. I'm going to pass."
"Yes, I'm sure you can do it," I agreed, but my tone lacked conviction, even to my own ears. "You've always been able to accomplish whatever you set your mind to," I added truthfully.
I needn't have worried about the training fee. Allyson came home that first afternoon flushed with triumph. She'd managed to do all three of the required tasks and was quickly picking up the life-saving skills.
"How did you do it?" I asked. "Yesterday it was too hard."
"I told myself I had to do it," she said. "When I dove down to the bottom, I felt afraid, but I just told myself, 'You're not going to drown.' "
"I'm so proud of you!" I exclaimed over and over.
"I still have to learn all the saves and pass the written test," she said.
"You'll be able to do it," I said, confidently this time.
The next day she had even more stories. She described in detail how to do shallow-water active saves (with a conscious, possibly thrashing victim) and underwater passive saves (with an unconscious victim). Interestingly, she found it almost as difficult--and much more scary--to play the part of the victim. She had to hold her breath and fight her fear of drowning as she waited for her rescuer, who was equally inexperienced, to reach her and figure out the correct way to carry her to the surface. She said that looking up to the surface of the water helped calm her fears.
Another task that Allyson needed to learn was CPR. I watched in amusement as she role-played the full scenario using an oversized stuffed frog that she'd charmed me into buying on a late-night Walmart trip a few months back.
She laid the frog on the living room floor and took several steps back. Then she rushed to the motionless frog and fell to her knees. "Sir! Sir!" she said loudly, her tone both urgent and calm as she lightly tapped the frog's shoulder. "Are you okay?"
The frog remained still and silent. "Sorry, cats," Allyson muttered as she lifted her whistle to her lips. Both cats started violently at the clipped, shrill sound of the whistle, and I winced reflexively even though Allyson had actually blown it quite softly.
She extended an arm and pointed at me. "You! Call 9-1-1," she ordered. Moving quickly but deliberately, she unzipped the red lifeguard fanny pack on her waist and pulled out a pair of gloves.
"Are you actually going to put those on?" I asked, interrupting the scene.
She lowered her brows and frowned at me for making her break character. "I need to practice that part. It's tricky." Indeed, it took her perhaps 20 agonizing seconds to tug the gloves onto her fingers.
Meanwhile, I pressed my luck by asking another question. "But won't you have to throw those gloves away now?"
"No, the gloves are only for my protection," she explained. "I can use them more than once."
Next, she pulled a rescue breathing mask from her fanny pack and carefully positioned it over the frog's mouth and nose. She exhaled audibly into the mask.
"Don't you have to check the airway?" I asked.
"No, only if the air won't go in. If that happens, you feel resistance when you try to breathe into the mask. Then you have to tilt the head back and sweep out their mouth, like this..." She tilted the frog's head back as far as his miniscule neck would permit and put the tips of her fingers into his tiny cloth mouth. Then she repositioned the mask.
After two breaths, she paused and watched the frog's chest to see if it rose. Nothing.
Next, she measured the correct position on the frog's sternum with her fingers and then counted out 30 chest compressions. After that, she delivered two more breaths before resuming compressions.
"I would have to keep doing that until the victim recovered consciousness, or until the paramedics took over," she explained. "But they almost never start breathing before the ambulance gets there. That usually only happens in the movies."
"Still, you can save a life," I said. "Without CPR, they wouldn't have much of a chance."
"Definitely," she agreed. "So now I need to take off my gloves the right way so the germs won't contaminate me." Slowly, she turned one glove inside out and peeled it off her fingers with her other gloved hand.
"Won't you have to clean your mask now?" I asked.
"No. It's only for my protection," she repeated.
"That was very impressive, Allyson," I said. "I'm glad you're taking this so seriously. I'm sure if you ever have to do this on the job, you'll be able to keep calm and remember the steps."
"Yeah, I hope so."
"But let's pray you never have to use those skills," I said. "If you do, I know God will help you."
After that, I had to go back to my room to work for another hour or two, but I heard Allyson going through the whole role-play again over the phone with Bill.
From what I could hear, his reaction mirrored mine: amusement mixed with pride. "If anything ever happens to me, you'll be able to help me," he said with a little laugh.
"Yeah. If you or Mama drop over, I can save you."
"I guess we're in good hands," he replied.
All of Allyson's practice paid off. She mastered all the skills, even the dreaded passive deep-water save with a spinal injury, which made the regular passive deep-water save seem easy in comparison. With some studying and a bit of prayer, she handily passed the challenging written exam as well.
And just like that, my girl was a certified, professional lifeguard!
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| Just Like the Lifeguards I Was in Awe of at Her Age |
The job has been perfect for her schedule. She works for an agency that staffs several local pools, and she simply marks her availability in the scheduling app. Any day or time that she wants to work, she can pick up a shift. The work is very easy. She either alternates between working at the top and bottom of a waterslide, or she sits in a lifeguard stand and watches the pool.
When she's on waterslide duty and there are no riders, she and her coworker sit at a table in the shade. They entertain themselves by conversing and weaving bracelets. Allyson had to persevere in learning to make the bracelets, but she had hours of practice, and within a week or so she could create a bracelet within minutes.
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| She Gave Me One of Her Early Attempts |
She's only made one official save, and it wasn't at all dramatic. She simply pulled a kid out of the water at the base of a waterslide.
That's not to say there has been no drama. Allyson has encountered many kids who refuse to follow the rules, and parents who think they shouldn't have to. The other day, a woman told her she wasn't going to take orders from a f__ing 16-year-old and reminded her that, as a member of the homeowner's association that runs the pool, she pays Allyson's salary. Allyson didn't inform her that she is actually only 15, nor did she get drawn into an argument. She calmly called over her manager, who reinforced the rule that the toddler could not go down the slide head-first on his stomach. To this, the woman repeated that she wasn't going to listen to a 16-year-old. The manager, who is actually in her early twenties, made her leave.
Allyson's ability to stay professional with rude customers has gotten her managers' attention. I'm sure they have noticed her dependability as well. She always insists on leaving a good ten minutes early, and she is almost always the first one to arrive. Next summer, she will probably be a manager herself.
As you've likely surmised, I'm very proud of my girl. She works hard, she's intelligent, and she can learn anything that she sets her mind to, just like her father. It's not that she doesn't struggle. She just doesn't give up. I'm excited to see what she will accomplish as she discovers the path God has chosen for her.
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