Before Dr. Jen Gunter became “Twitter’s gynecologist” with her unique brand of anti-pseudoscience and sass, she was a lifeguard “lite” at wading pools around Winnipeg. Here’s how she kept the kids safe and entertained while conquering her own boredom.
The summer I turned 18, I got my first real job as a kind of lifeguard/pool attendant/arts-and-crafts organizer with the City of Winnipeg. Those wading pools that are open during the summer and always full of little kids? It was my job to watch them.
I’d heard about the job earlier in the school year. Someone else had applied and told me how they did it, so I decided to do it, too. This was 1984 or 85, so I had to get a form and fill it out and mail it in. Maybe I even rode over on my bike and delivered it by hand. That sounds like something I’d do.
I did a screening interview to get approved. I’d just graduated, had plans to go to university to become a doctor and already had the top swim level. I was pretty responsible and a big rule follower, which I’m sure they loved. I didn’t know it then, but these seasonal city positions were union jobs and very coveted. Even more coveted if you could get the pool in your own neighbourhood, which I did not. I’d bike to whatever pool they told me to go to.
There were a few days of training, but not much. I remember being excited that I’d be getting paid for training, which was a totally novel concept for me, and at a pretty good rate, too. I’d also be getting real official breaks, because it was someone else’s job to drive around to all the different pools to give you your proper break. I know now it’s the law, but I didn’t know that when I was a teenager, so it felt awesome.
My day started at 9 a.m. with an hour, maybe an hour and a half, spent filling the pool. I did that every morning and drained it every afternoon so nobody would drown overnight. I’d check the chlorine levels, like, four times a day and clean hair and gunk from the traps and drains. The city would come by randomly to do water tests to make sure your pool was clean and you weren’t slacking off.
People didn’t tend to show up until it got hot, around noon, and if it was a cool, overcast day, people might not show up at all. Then you’d be by yourself all day, so there was a whole lot of downtime. I would get really lonely, so at some point I started reading Harlequin romances. I read a ton of them that year.
But if the pool was busy, I could have 30 kids splashing around and I’d be doing absolutely nothing else but keeping my eyes on the pool to make sure nobody went under. On other days, there’d be one kid, and I’d be more of a babysitter. I had a certain amount of arts-and-crafts materials to last for the summer, so we could do finger painting with pudding or something to stay busy. That would be a great day for that kid’s mom, because I took the gig very seriously.
I don’t remember any kind of extraordinary life-saving effort, which I’m sure I would, so nothing serious happened. I guess this means I was doing a good job? At some point the girl at my local pool got a better job, so they called me up and moved me there. That was just the best, because I was so close to home. I knew I was starting school in the fall and would be inside studying a lot, so hanging out outside in my swimsuit was very appealing.
Still, there was a moment every single morning of, like, “Is this going to work?” These pools were older than I was, and none of them had the same operating equipment. I knew how to work the one I’d trained at, sort of, but anything could happen at any time. If I had a problem, I had to solve it on my own, and it’s not like I could look it up on my iPhone. I had to learn to solve my own problems, but I also had to learn that when things were really bad, it was okay to ask for help. Then I’d have to call a maintenance worker and wait for them to show up.
- as told to Rosemary Counter