A Hard MIT Class
mitadmissions.org
mitadmissions.org
Just bang your head against it until you break through isn't really a great learning method when there's something other than the material which is blocking the way.
Personally this is pretty damning read on MIT Introductory Swim... And I have the sneaking suspicion they approach struggling students in academic classes similarly. Don't figure out the underlying cause of the block, just try harder, perhaps nearly drown, it'll all work out.
If MIT does treat its students this way -- let them approach failure with a safety net waiting -- then they're certainly doing better than many other universities.
As I read the piece, it sounded like the swim coach was fantastic. Here's what stood out to me:
> The instructor treated me like I was an Olympic swimmer. He smiled and nodded and gave me a thumbs up and said, “You’re getting it! You’re getting it! You just need a little practice in the water, and you’ll be more comfortable.”
> Since I was nowhere near comfortable enough to do that, I had my own set of confidence-building exercises in a lone, separate corner of the pool. One of the lifeguards noticed what was going on and offered to help out. She offered me items like floaters—which the class normally did not use—and kept at me with different small exercises I could try.
(Granted, this isn't entirely the coach. But it's the best situation this guy could have landed in.)
> I realized I was in the middle of nowhere, and panicked. My legs suddenly seemed thrice heavier. I flopped into the water, kept trying to stand because I was tall enough to, but the fins kept slipping beneath me, and I kept striking the water, and trying to stand, and falling and trying to stand, and falling and trying to stand, again and again, drinking water, inhaling it, panicking. After a tortured fifteen seconds—I think, it felt longer—I was able to stand, and I made it, by walking not swimming, shivering and utterly terrified, to the end of the pool from which I had kicked off. “I almost drowned!” I screamed at the instructor, breathing heavily. He laughed and shook his head. “Not even close. No one drowns in my pool. Good job.” Good job…did he really mean that? He seemed to.
> And at the end of it all, I got the swim credit.
> The swim requirement became a thing far behind me, hazy in memory. But sometimes, I go to the Z-Center, and I step into the pool, and swim around.
I've taught a few people to juggle (the standard three-ball pattern), another physical skill, and this struck me as quite similar. Nobody worries that if they mess up while learning to juggle they'll suddenly die. But almost everyone comes into it with their own idea of what failure means, and it has to be stamped out. To a novice, you've failed if you drop the balls. As coach, I can demonstrate the proper throwing technique, describe exactly what's going on, model it in front of them in slow motion as they hold their hands in the correct position, and (almost) everyone still makes the same mistake when they try to throw two balls: they'll throw the first ball, and then quickly hand off the second ball from one hand to the other while the first ball is in the air. That feels right to them, because they don't drop the balls, but it's wrong. You have to throw the second ball upward just like the first one. And so I learned that the right teaching technique is to jump in with effusive praise as soon as they do anything other than quickly hand off the ball to the other hand. Handing off the ball is bad, even if you can keep it going indefinitely. Did you panic and drop the second ball? Excellent. Did you throw the second ball behind yourself? Great work. Did you throw the second ball into the first ball? That's exactly what I was hoping for. All of those things can be fixed, and with practice, they will be.
Sometimes the best thing a coach can say is "great work, that's better than you've done before, keep trying".
When you learn to juggle, you try your hardest not to drop the balls, when actually the most important thing is good fundamental form. Convergence on success looks rather sudden because you eventually stop dropping the balls as a result of your form improving, not because you were trying your hardest to keep the balls in the air.
In that case, it's getting the throws right. But that means practicing the right throw in the first place. Perfecting the throw, then perfecting the part where you catch it, that'll come with practice, but first you need to stop handing the ball to your other hand. I'm trying to learn to juggle five balls, and the same thing applies. I can get to 10 catches/throws, but to get to 100 I don't just keep trying to juggle five balls, I try to juggle three in a five ball pattern (juggle two invisible balls) and perfect each throw, or juggle four balls in a five ball pattern and focus on consistency, because you aren't consciously improving if all you're trying to do is keep the mess of throws in the air just a little longer.
That applies to singing, playing instruments, golfing, competitive gaming... everything. Sometimes you're not optimizing the right thing in order to get big picture results.
Put them in the dark, feed them shit and watch them grow.
Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing?
I've taken lessons as an adult, either at the YMCA or as part of a college Continuing Education program, but they never seem to click.
I feel like I've conquered anything else life has thrown at me, but I'll be damned if I've learned to do something as simple as swim.
I realize (trust me!) that it sounds much simpler than it is, but being tense actually makes it harder to stay afloat, so relaxing accomplishes much more than keeping you calm.
Pools are harder in some ways: chlorine, walls both as crutches past where you need them and as a hazard, and a more artificial environment. They are also easier in some ways, and some people learn better in a pool, but it makes sense to try both if you've stuck with only one so far.
The most important part is to get yourself to the point where you feel mostly at ease in the water. You can train yourself by spending a lot of time in the pool. Start in the shallow end, sit on the stairs or just squat down, stick your face in the water, and blow some bubbles. Pull your head out, take a breath, and go back in. Do that for a while, then pull your head out when you start to need air but stick your face back in the water immediately without taking a breath. You can stand up anytime you like, so take a moment to notice that your need for air wasn't as urgent as it seemed. You can stay under a few more seconds before lifting your head out again, and when you come out, take a relaxed deep breath instead of gasping as if you were dying. Show yourself that you are in control and doing just fine.
Keep playing games like these. Get a little deeper, go farther under water, do little flips under water, and so on. When your face is pointing up, the air sometimes comes out of your nose and cold water rushes in and hits your sinuses--nobody likes the feeling, but after a few times, it won't be anything more than an annoyance, so just spend a lot of time getting used to all of these feelings. That's what kids do. Kids get their heads pushed under water by bigger kids, and before long they realize that it never kills them.
Take as long as you need to play around in the water (weeks?, months?, no rush) and get used to all the new feelings. And then take another swimming class and learn the skills without all the anxiety. (And assume you'll have to keep going back for your own underwater therapy refresher courses occasionally for the rest of your life to maintain your comfort level.) Hope this helps.
In US, it seems like everyone knows how to swim. I am relieved that there are others like me who struggle with this as adults.
Kudos to the OP for sticking through it!
"Give me six hours to chop down a tree and I will spend the first four sharpening the axe."
[3, 6, 9, 21, 22, 47, 78, 89, 134, 225, 368][1] https://oeis.org/search?q=3%2C+6%2C+9%2C+21%2C+22%2C+47%2C+7...
Thanks for the pointer!
the first parameter is the cumulative sum of the sequence,
>>> log(1002, 10)
3.0008677215312267
>>> log(634, 9)
2.936454025222717
>>> log(409, 8)
2.89198567764725
>>> log(275, 7)
2.8864493565611764
>>> log(186, 6)
2.9165447502641713
>>> log(108, 5)
2.9091716996047423
>>> log(61, 4)
2.9653686687814433
>>> log(39, 3)
3.3347175194727923
>>> log(18, 2)
4.169925001442312
yes, I saw that "read more" at first...I did not want to spoil the puzzle so I tried to solve it on my own for a while but then realized I might have to spend more than 1 hour on this thing -- and at this point I totally forgot there is a spoiler there...
The MIT students I have had the pleasure of working with all exhibit this attitude of not giving up and solving tough problems with a calm, perseverent attitude.
A calm attitude of perseverance can be obtained many ways, without forcing people to take swimming classes.
And they actually did some historical research on it, http://asklib.hcl.harvard.edu/a.php?qid=31265