Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Swimming

I went swimming with a friend today. It was a very educational experience. This individual was quite willing to talk me through the various actions, techniques, and principles involved with performing the freestyle crawl. (Apparently this is one of the most basic strokes in existence...)

In the end, you know what really helped? Listening, sure, but watching and then doing. As I attempted what was being described and demonstrated, not only was my instructor able to iteratively suggest improvements, but also I was able to learn by trial and error what I was doing wrong (and right). Tip your body further down when you kick off. Kick, stroke, and breathe--don't just pick two. Line your head up with your shoulders like so when breathing.

This, to me, is a splendid example of a simple folk knowledge (hereafter "folklore") transmission. While I can go to a class and 'learn' swimming or read one of the many textbooks written on the subject, the process of learning is inherently human-to-human and actually has quite a history.


Swimming goes back a LONG time. Ancient Egyptians were renowned for it, Greeks and Romans competed Olympically and militarily in it, and the Japanese held competitions as far back as 1 B.C. (as far as we know :). Up until the dark ages it was a well-respected practice that garnered much attention and study. (Drawn from Wikipedia, "History of Swimming.")

I started this post with an interest in this era. I had heard that during the middle ages floating was regarded as a sign of being a witch...from one of my high school literature teachers. This blog (a hodge-podge of summary and photos) states it so matter-of-factly that it doesn't even merit a reference--presumably the book did some fact checking, right? Wikipedia merely points out the combination of increasing anti-nudity mores and an association between contact with water and plague led to a decline in swimming's popularity. Where, my dear reader, does this floating witch story originate for you? (For the already enlightened or the curious.)

Also, who taught whom how to swim throughout the ages? Wikipedia is woefully bereft of anything in this line of thinking. It notes that, as an Olympic sport, it started out as all-male. Later mention is made of Nancy Edberg, who made swimming instruction openly available to both males and (gasp!) females. The origin of the modern front crawl is assigned to Native Americans, where it certainly was handed down by tradition. Only one direct communication is mentioned, and that in passing:
At [the 1912 Olympic games] Duke Kahanamoku from Hawaii won the 100 m freestyle, having learned the six kicks per cycle front crawl from older natives of his island.
Complex, high-efficiency strokes coming from mere "older natives?" Sounds like a drastic oversimplification.

Alas, time does not permit a deeper exploration of these topics.

4 comments:

  1. so, this post seems to hit on one of the things i'm noticing about all these "folk knowledges" we've been talking about. there seems to be a chicken or egg issue when it comes to folk knowledge. sure, the guy from hawii learned from old people, but who did they learn from? who was the first guy to flop around in the water for a while till he figured out that by doing such-and such, and moving his arms this way and not that, he moved forward? is the knowledge of the "doggy paddle" something that dates back through evolution to before homo sapiens existed? it seems to me that all folk knowledge has a common root. somebody a long time ago tried new things till something useful came out of it. to what degree does the ORIGIN of the knowledge fit into our analysis of the acquisition thereof? i feel like all the knowledges we have, no matter the type, are improvements and offshoots of ways our primeval ancestors satisfied their most basic animal desires.

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  2. I like how you mentioned that in order to learn how to swim, you of course needed to listen and to watch, but actually doing it made the learning experience complete. It seems to me that watching, listening, and doing create three sides to an overall learning experience. Whether it's folk knowledge or just academic knowledge, it all requires those three things. The father tongue and mother tongue are both learned from listening, watching, and doing. LeGuin talks about how in college, and throughout life, she has moments when she "learn[s], unlearn[s], and relearn[s]". That would also imply that she has had moments of relistening, rewatching, redoing, etc. How often do we do this? How often are we, also, relearning? Do some things change as we get older? Swimming, for example, is a different experience for me now than when I was a child. When I was a child I pretended to be a merman. . .now I find that childish and slightly embarrassing. I seek now for a strictly fitness result from my swimming. I have relearned how to swim.

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  3. @Jared

    It seems to me that imitation of nature could be added to your list. I learned how to balance on a bike simply by coasting into and out of a dip in the road outside my house. All the demonstrations and helps in the world terrified me rather than helping me; it was when I went off on my own and just tried to imitate what I'd seen--in man or in nature (hey look, another dichotomy)--that I learned.

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  4. In reading this post and comments it is apparent that three main parts to learning, listening, watching, and doing are a very important factor in folk knowledge. As I saw this though, I thought about those who are blind, deaf, or have another disability. How is it that they learn? Are their disabilities a hinderance? Maybe an enhancement to their learning experience. This train of thought lead me ultimately to the "how" of learning. It seems we all take on a different form of learning and in the end, obtain the same knowledge. Is there a way to learn things the best possible way or is it simply having the knowledge in the end? Do we learn how to learn from folk knowledge?

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