From the editor: guppy to shark.

Then I was younger, like most kids, I looked forward to the end of school. Not because I no longer had to read books or perform arithmetic (I actually was one of those weird kids who liked school), but because it meant that I would soon be heading to summer camp. Through my childhood, I visited a variety of camps in the summer.

At the camp sponsored through my local park and recreation department, I learned to make boondoggle keychains. At my church camp, we visited underprivileged sections of the state and built houses with Habitat for Humanity. At a camp I attended run by the Girl Scouts of America, we took horseback riding lessons and I finally mastered cantering.

But at all the camps I ever attended, there was always one thing I didn't look forward to, and that was swimming. Almost always, I was labeled a "guppy," a "tadpole," or a "fresh fins" swimmer. I could make keychains with the best of them, but put me in a pool, and I didn't perform well at all.

It was embarrassing as a young girl, to watch all your friends in their green swim caps jump in from the deep end, while my white cap signaled to the lifeguard that I wasn't allowed past the rope. I made it my mission every summer to do my best to become one of the "sharks," the "dolphins," or part of the "fastest fins" group.

Through it all, I always had complete admiration for my swim teachers who, although my cap said otherwise, never made me feel that I couldn't do it. Today, I love the water and though I'm no master of the butterfly stroke, can hold my own in any deep end. I even married a veteran pool lifeguard.

This special aquatics issue is for all those professionals who work hard to teach children and adults alike the pleasure, safety and skills of the aquatics world.

Rachel Roberts 

Editor, Parks & Recreation