I knew all summer that the only way I could get my kids into swim lessons at our old swim club would be to go down to the pool and talk to the head coach. Even though they have a website, a facebook page, and a twitter account, they are really more face to face people. I kept putting it off, getting busy with first 1 thing, then another.

I finally went down there after I heard about that drowning tragedy.

I thought I’d have to reintroduce myself. After all, it’s been 4 years since my kids swam with the club. But the head coach not only recognized me, he knew my name, and told me he likes my blog posts. That was a nice icebreaker. I told him I wanted to put the kids in lessons, and he smiled and told me that the session was almost over, but not quite. He told me to bring the kids on down and talk to the Learn to Swim coach, my older kids’ old coach. It was Friday. The kids would have to wait for Monday to get start their swim lessons.

When we got to the pool, the baby wanted to put on her suit too, even though she was too young for lessons. The little girls took their swim test. They were originally put in the most advanced group, but they couldn’t swim all those 25s. They were moved to the group where they were swimming 12 1/2s. What surprised me was that they were put together, considering that the 8 year old left off at the streamline kick to the flags at her last lesson. She’d never been taught to breathe in the freestyle before, but was able to swim a little freestyle here, and she learned quickly. She is very athletic and has great heart.

Her 10 year old sister has more skills; had been taught freestyle, backstroke, and breast stroke. She had advanced to the point of swimming 25′s, practicing and perfecting her strokes. She has much less stamina and heart than her younger sister. They ended up in class together. The 8 year old, who usually ends up under the water when she tries to float on her back was finally able to float and swim on her back during her lesson. She had a big smile on her face the whole time. The 10 year old wasn’t smiling, but both said they had a good time.

Meanwhile, the 6 year old learned floating in his learn to swim class. He cheerfully did bobs, and learned to float. His class had a lot more sitting around waiting in line than the more advanced class.

Unfortunately, I finally took the kids to the pool on the last day of the summer session. They are to start up again in the fall.

It’s been almost a month since a severe drowning tragedy in Louisiana. On August 3rd, 7 teens playing in the water at a Shreveport, LA park fell into a sinkhole. Each non-swimming teen tried to save another, all drowned but 1. Even more horrific: the children who drowned were siblings from 2 different families. And the most horrific? Their parents watched helpless, as the children screamed, “help me!”–because none of the adults could swim, either.

I don’t know what else it will take to get people in the water to learn how to save themselves; others! This makes me think of Wanda Butts. That poor woman lost her son, and then had the strength to start a foundation in his name, The Josh Project, so nobody else would have to lose their child to drowning. But children are drowning daily. What will it take to eradicate this plague? There is no small pox in America any more. This is doable. But we have to make it a priority. We have to act.

My daughter, a lifeguard, is competing in the Miss Michigan USA pageant next weekend. Her charity is the Make a Splash Foundation. She too was heartbroken when she heard this story. If she could learn to swim, with her issues about getting her face wet, extreme fear of the water, and lack of buoyancy, anyone can!

While I’m talking, I still have 2 non-swimming children. I took them down to the pool for lessons as soon as I could after hearing this story. Will you join me?

Here’s another story from our Lake Michigan trip. Of 5 little girls, 1 is a non-swimmer. The 7 year old had her first swim lesson this summer, but was afraid to get her face wet. Her mother had her do a few bobs in the lake, then she watched my 8 year old doing streamlines and kicking. She told her daughter to do that, and she got the hang of it! She started streamlining, and trying everything else the little fish girls were doing. She wanted to stay in the water, splashing and playing like she was born again. It is so exciting when swimming clicks for someone!

How long does it take to become a swimmer? Our trip to a friend’s backyard lake: My 10 year old daughter has a friend who lives on a lake. The friend has come to pick her up and taken her to her house to play a few times. My daughter usually gets home late, full of smiles, with wet hair. In early August, the whole family was invited to come play in the lake. We took our suits, and drove the 30 minutes to their house. It was picturesque. You had to go out in the yard to take in the whole view. The lake extended in all directions along the back and side of the house. My daughter’s friend has a couple boats, their own dock, and a small sandy beach for building castles.

The girls had so much fun jumping off the dock and getting pushed off the deck. The baby swam around a little in her cube and water wings, while I silently wondered how long it takes for swimming to happen. The 6 year old still doesn’t swim, and shows little interest when we go to the lake. That’s ironic, considering how he liked the lake when he was a baby. Anyway, I’m getting impatient for all my children to swim. Mind you, I haven’t yet signed them up for lessons this summer–and summer’s almost gone–so I don’t know what I expect, but I am tired of the youngest two not knowing how to swim. I am weary of holding the baby for dear life every time we go swimming. I am even more weary of hearing of non-swimming black people, and of mothers helplessly watching their children drown. So I’ll hold the baby. And sign the kids up for lessons so I don’t have to count my family members among the non-swimmers.

It doesn’t hurt that I have a lifeguard in the family now. I can’t wait to get my son certified.

This was our first Lake Michigan trip in 4 years. It was a triumphant return in many ways–the sand was comfortable, and the water was warm, which is a never in Lake Michigan. But the beach that we visited had very big rocks on the lake floor, making it too painful for the little children to venture in.

The baby would go in if I carried her. Then she’d try to get bold and have me let go of her. The waves were ever present, but mild. There was sand deeper in the water, but it was hard to get to, especially holding a baby. She just kicked and kicked and squirmed the whole time in the water.

We had a large group of black folk at the lake. Three women and 14 children descended on the beach. (Swim count: 2/3 adults could swim, 4/6 children, and 4/5 teens can swim). Four of the five teenagers looked like superheroes as they strolled into the water. The fifth teen was there under duress, not happy to be there at all. He kept his t-shirt on when forced into the lake to take care of his little brother. Later, a seagull came and pooped on him. His mother said that the poop mirrored his poopy attitude. It was ironic humor or something–sarcastic humor? Satire? You can’t make these things up.

Although I suspect I’m laboring in obscurity here, I have figured out the mystery of the non-swimming black culture. There are three reasons, and they feed each other.

1. Non-swimming adults
If you don’t swim, you don’t get what the big deal is with swimming. You don’t make it a priority. If you hear about the disproportionate drowning rate among your people, and you’re a non-swimmer, you figure you’ll fix that by staying away from the water. Which brings me to. . .

2. Fear
If you don’t swim, and therefore stay away from the water, then you’re going to want to keep your kids away from the water too, to keep them safe. No matter that you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting a swim instructor, some of them giving away the lessons for free. No, you want to keep your kids away from the water to keep them safe.

3. Lack of role models
Here’s where Cullen is working his butt off. I thought, well, he’s alone, and we need so many more swimmers. But Tiger Woods didn’t need a legion of black golfers to interest black folks in golf; neither did Venus and Serena need a bus-load of dark tennis players. So Cullen would be sufficient. . . if he swam the number of events Michael Phelps swims. It’s a little harder when he’s duking it out with Nathan Adrian, Matt Grevers, et. al. for fastest sprinter. Maybe his son will be the superstar swimmer we need to put all black eyes on swimming.

What do you think? Is this list long enough? Any suggestions?