Swim Camp


My mom signed me up for a swimming camp, which was the first way that I wasn’t bored this summer.

I am okay at swimming.

Not great.

My band teacher coaches the swim team.

I like my band teacher, but not enough to join the swim team.

Jimmy was there.

We were in the same third, fourth, and fifth grade classes.

We were in seminar together too.

But for some reason, he didn’t talk to me at all while we were at swim camp.

He was put in a lower group than me.

He shouldn’t feel bad about that, though.

He was learning, just like I was.

I tried to say “hi!”

But he didn’t “think with his eyes,” which is what my speech teacher taught me to do, when I want to get someone’s attention.

My swim teacher was really nice.

He was a boy.

I talked to him about video games.

Sometimes he had to work with the other students in the middle of my talking to him about video games.

I guess he was busy teaching other kids how to swim.

I passed a Level 3 at the end of the week.

My brother had to repeat Level 1 twice and finally finished Level 2, even though he took swim camp one more time that I did.

I hope he doesn’t feel bad about that.

He was just doing the best he could.

They don’t let you pass a Level 2 until you are ready to put your face in the water.

I learned that last summer.

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