Elevator Advice

For my teenage lifeguard self

By Bill Plessinger
Photos: Lake Metroparks at Fairport Harbor Lakefront Park

As I write this, summer is looming. Planning is underway. Is there water in the pool? Check. Chlorine? Check. Cash registers installed? Check. Lifeguards hired? Oops! Couldn’t check off that box? Couldn’t get enough staff members? If it makes you feel any better, you are not alone. The issue is nationwide. Having a wonderful facility without enough staff to manage is a reality these days.

As I think about how to recruit new staff members, I imagine being stuck in an elevator with my teenage lifeguard self, on the way to my first lifeguard job. It is 1991 when I first sat in a chair with a whistle. The elevator is stuck between floors, and no one knows for how long. Settling in, I try to tell my teenage self about how it all works, but even more than that—why this job matters.

I remember the anticipation of my first job, the prospect of making money, spending the summer at the pool, and drinking in sunshine, friends, ice cream, hot dogs, and girls in swimsuits. I was young and invincible, hedging my bets that “Nothing will happen here.” And nothing did. Even today, a lot of the job is anticipation, with few incidents. The guard job takes place in what is defined as a “high-stakes environment,” which is any environment or situation where decisions may result in injury or loss of life. That is a lot of responsibility for anyone, let alone a teenager. That thought was not on my brain at the time, though it was much more of a reality than my other young-adult jobs, waiting tables, delivering pizzas, or driving the hand truck in a meat locker. My older self now realizes that guards physically are only able to watch one swimmer at a time, and that I could get the “it happened” call at any time.

But, stuck in the elevator, I told my teenage self what I would learn from the job:

You will learn to predict the future. The job of a lifeguard, simply, is to notice things. Technically, you have to watch everyone, but you learn who is more high-risk. You can predict who will need a rescue based on behavior. Those who jump in usually are experienced and know what they are doing. Those who ease into the water and clutch the wall may be an issue. How do swimmers go off the diving board? Do they jump straight out, or hesitate and jump off the side of the board toward the ladder in order to get out of the water quickly? Watch who people are looking at; are their parents nearby? One child I had talked to staff about as a concern needed rescued not 15 minutes later. The parent was out of the water, on the phone. Call me Nostradamus? No. Call me experienced.

You will learn how to deal with people. A lot of what is learned as a guard is not in any manual. The job of a guard is to prevent accidents. This is done by enforcing rules. How this is done can be the difference between a patron’s good and bad experience. Yelling across the pool may get the job done, but getting off the chair and talking to someone at water level will leave a much better impression. It shows a level of respect.

You will grow as a person. There will be situations that you will not win. Once I was confronted by an upset patron waiting to do laps in a busy pool. The conversation went like this:

“There are no lanes open. I was here before that swimmer, and he got in that lane when it opened.”

“I’m sorry. ma’am. Were you waiting by that lane?”

“No.”

“Did you want me to talk to him?”

“No.”

“This is a busy period. Do you want me to see if someone will share a lane with you?

“No. I want my own lane. Maybe you should have tickets like in a deli.”

What? Not going to win that one. I apologized again, and that was the end.

You will learn to step out of your comfort zone. You will have to talk to upset patrons who are carrying the woes of the outside world into your pool. It is not your fault. Everyone has bad days. Everyone is fighting a battle you may know nothing about. It takes effort not to make it worse for them.

You will learn responsibility. Being a guard shows you can handle a job with some responsibility. You will have to deal with unhappy people, and address crowds. The expectations are higher, as the results of doing a bad job are more serious. On some busy days, the best you can hope for is that everyone goes home.

You will be part of a team. As a guard, you are the panic button. You are the red phone. The guard job can be a tough one when it is busy. There can be dozens of swimmers in front of you, and hundreds of people and distractions around you. There are swimmers of all ages, sizes, and abilities. But it can also be a tough job when it is not busy and you are watching only one or two swimmers, while your mind wanders aimlessly. Day-to-day routine can be monotonous and dull. Look at the guards around you. They will have your back.

You will have stories. Every year, there are stories to share because of behaviors you wouldn’t expect to see, but have to address. Most swimmers don’t see what we see:

• A man shaving in the hot tub.

• A kid who did a flip and cut his chin on the diving board, exposing the subcutaneous fat layers underneath.

• The grandma who lost her kids twice, forcing two pool evacuations. In less than 30 minutes.

• The gentleman who bragged about being a retired doctor for whom we had to call 911 three times due to his passing out in the hot tub.

• The comment card that read, “The guards are more relaxed about the rules at (the next city over).” I consider this one a compliment.

You will make a difference. This job is about more than money. I was complimented once by a parent who told me, “Yesterday, you were my hero.” It wasn’t for a rescue or even first aid. It was for being a decent human being, for stepping in and resolving a conflict professionally and with respect.

You will have opportunities to celebrate the people you work with, and their victories. One of the highlights of my career was an incident that occurred last year involving one of the guards who pulled someone back from the clutches of death. It didn’t happen while she was at a pool. She was in a restaurant. When another diner collapsed, she sprang into action, giving the unconscious patron chest compressions until EMS arrived. The guard was credited with saving the woman’s life. The guard did all this while on vacation, in another state, in front of her family. For her actions, she earned an American Red Cross National Lifesaving Award, signed by the President of the United States.

The elevator restarts with a shudder and comes back to life. The time with my teenage self ends as the elevator reaches the ground floor. I leave, older and more experienced, wiser and more worldly.

Before I leave, I ask my teenage self why I keep coming back. My younger self answers, “Because I make a tremendous difference in the lives of others. Whether performing a rescue or bandaging a scraped knee, I touch a heart, and this is where I need to be.” I am overcome with pride on behalf of both my younger self and the current version. I wonder what advice my older version will impart 20 years from now. I can’t wait to find out.

Bill Plessinger is the aquatic manager for the city of Westerville, Ohio. Reach him at william.plessinger@westerville.org.