The Bellarmine Review
Things I Learned in The Chair Ryan Riccio ’23
It’s blinding, really. The glare off the water from the early morning sun. I sit in my chair, staring out to sea. It can become boring, the monotony of it all. Waves roll in, waves roll out. I twirl my whistle; circling right, circling left. Then I see it. Out by the buoy, I spot a fin. I get on the radio to my fellow guards. “Is that a Charlie by the buoy?” Not allowed to say the word shark, leaving our patrons confused or panicked, we are trained to refer to the beady-eyed predators by this harmless nickname. “Sure looks like one,” the lifeguard captain chirps on the radio. The other guards agree, and the order comes to call everyone out of the water. I take my whistle out of the endless cycle of twirling around my fingers. “Everyone out of the water!!” I shout loudly. But let’s pause. ··· How did I become a lifeguard, monitoring the ocean for Charlies? On one of those blustery winter nights, when summer feels like a lifetime away, I saw a lifeguard job posting in Misquamicut, where my family summers. The training was difficult: months of online courses, certifications, more laps than I could count, and a sixfoot-four linebacker for a rescue training partner. I completed my training only to find that (due to COVID) there were no lifeguard tests in all of Connecticut. I researched where these courses were available and traveled three hours to the nearest test. What I learned was a resilience outside of my comfort zone. I am proud to say I am a Red Cross–certified ocean lifeguard. Just like the process I took to become a lifeguard, my first days working as one were packed full of challenges. One Sunday, a nor’easter edging closer to Rhode Island turned the ocean into 20