Attended Mermaid School at Disney World

[The mermaid's head, framed by long black hair, floated in the water like a halo. That was until she rolled over and immediately bumped her knee into the bottom of the shallow pool. The magic was broken. Yes, I am still a woman in her thirties, not a mystical creature.

As a child, The Little Mermaid was my favorite. From the Jamaican refrain of "Kiss the Girl," which I often played on my Fisher Price tape recorder, to the giant Ashera in my dreams, Ariel became Disney's first modern heroine in 1989, after a 30-year hiatus from princess-themed films. Ariel is Disney's first modern heroine. Strong-willed and unyielding to her overprotective father. Inventive enough to comb her hair with a fork. And she was very fashionable, with her purple bikini top and green tail. No doubt my mother was pleased that I could not figure it out, despite the fact that I saw her every day on my way home from kindergarten.

As an adult, I have stayed away from the ocean because of a mild fear of seaweed and a strong aversion to the feel of sand between my toes. I have also finally given up my ill-advised attempts to dye my hair engine red. However, I am still a huge fan of the escapism of "The Little Mermaid" and would gladly sign a Faustian contract to escape "growing up."

In March, the Disney World Resort began serving people like me who wanted to be sirens. At Disney's Art of Animation Resort, Disney's Caribbean Beach Resort, Disney's Beach Club Resort, and Disney's Yacht Club Resort, six days a week at 8 a.m., for only $50 (plus tax), you can put on a tail and become a local Mermaid Academy, where you can learn to flip fins under the guidance of a local Mermaid Academy.

Eligibility is 4 years old and up, with a fairly inclusive age policy that has recently encouraged four generations of women to wear tails and swim together. (My session included five bright-eyed girls under the age of 7 and a mother who told me she felt safe swimming with the adults. I encouraged her to have a Daryl Hannah inside of her.

The day before, at a princess-themed breakfast (not part of the experience, but never far from the fairy-tale entertainment at Disney World), I asked a giddy college student playing Ariel what she needed to know to be a mermaid. 'Blow a big bubble the size of a whale,' she said. (Where's my flounder, damn it?) . But I am not the most athletic person in the world, perhaps because I type for a living. Joe O'Rourke, founder of the Mermaid Academy, and his assistant, Daniel, were so immersed in mermaid culture that they owned two tails and a key chain before getting this job.

My classmates and I were finally given permission to begin our mermaid journey after being asked several times if we could all swim. It took a bit of negotiating to get ourselves into hot pink tails, like wearing ocean Spanx. As was the case after swimming lessons as a child, wobbling around with my legs pinned by my tail was awkward at first, but it became easier as the instructor led me through a series of circus-like games. Having learned to ignore the natural buoyancy of my hips, I graduated from swimming laps underwater to swimming through and out of hoops sunk at various heights both in and under water. There is no judgment in mermaiding. In hindsight, I probably should have taken the goggles I was offered, especially for scooping "treasures" from the bottom of the pool (a very important mermaid skill). But I was too excited by the idea of maximizing Ariel's potential to be practical, never mind red eyes.

Pulling on the tail promised to make me feel "transformed," but on dry land that word seemed overdone. Yet, despite wearing the world's ugliest swimsuit (already faded and stretched out from a second-hand store), I found myself feeling transformed. Sitting on the pool steps, I unconsciously scooped water with my tail. Posing with my tail, I felt refreshed. After some trial and error, I swam faster with the tail on and felt faster; after an hour, I removed the tail and noticed that my core was stronger. Come to think of it, I didn't even have to shave my legs first.

If it had been up to me, I would have slipped out of the pool and headed straight for the big ocean. However, that area was open to other resort guests, so I had to turn tail at 9:00 AM. Surprisingly tired, I returned to the hotel for a shower, putting my wobbly human legs forward one step at a time.

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