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?

The temperature didn’t disappoint, and all 6 kids were happy to jump in. I have different levels of swimmers, so it is challenging to watch them all. My lifeguard certified daughter had just gotten her hair done, so she didn’t swim, but got wet, took care of her younger non-swimming siblings, and pined for actual swimming. I got a kick out of this, as she tries to pretend that she doesn’t like to swim. I didn’t say, “I knew you liked swimming!” or anything else snotty. I just made a mental note of it.

My 15 year old son is another one who pretends to hate swimming, but I noticed how he did cannonballs, critiqued his little sisters’ swimming, and challenged them to races. It was a delight to watch him swim again–this time as a big boy. He swam competitively from the age of 8 until 11.

The little girls, who took swimming lessons from the age of 3 until 6 and 4, surprised me, especially the 8 year old. She has had fewer swim lessons, and never really learned any stroke, but she is very competitive and athletic. This is my only child who wants to do a triathlon (like her mother!). But she doesn’t swim well enough to do one this summer. My older son is the only child that could compete in the YMCA child’s triathlon this year, and he is completely uninterested. I digress. When my 8 year old heard that she wasn’t ready for the swim portion of a triathlon, she knew she wanted to practice in a pool. She was so excited to get her chance.

She was jumping off the diving board, racing her 10 year old sister, and beating her, despite the fact that the 8 year old had to hold on to the side of the pool in order to breathe. She doesn’t know rotary breathing or true freestyle yet, but she was pulling like a freestyle and swimming underwater for long periods of time before needing a breath. We may make a swimmer of her yet!

The littlest children, who are non-swimmers, were very enthusiastic as well. They splashed around with various flotation devices, both children wanting desperately to learn how to swim. The 2 year old could paddle around with her butterfly cube and floaties. Her 6 year old brother preferred sitting in floating chairs and using two noodles. I will be glad to count him among the swimmers! I better sign them up for lessons this summer. It’s not fun trying to keep the non-swimmers out of the pool!

If you have more photographic proof, post it on Diversity in Aquatics. They’re busting that blacks don’t swim myth.

Easier said than done. All the other kids were splashing around in the water. My children were soon discontent with just wading. The baby waded in up to her butt almost immediately and got her pants all wet. I stayed firm about her. If I couldn’t take her in the water, she wasn’t going. The other kids borrowed swim suits and joined their friends. My 6 year old son put on a life jacket like all the other small children at the party. My 8 and 10 year old girls, who have had swim lessons, swam without flotation devices. That was the only swimming I saw out there.

I know the bigger boys must have done something to get out to the deep water platform; I just didn’t see them swim there. There were some College student helpers in boats, on platforms, etc. I assumed that the wet one was the lifeguard. I would have taken my daughter if she hadn’t just gotten her hair done.

I spent most of my beach time chasing my 2 year old away from the water. She would have jumped in in a hearbeat if I’d let her.

Everyone obviously loved the water, and they all had a ball. They just didn’t know how to swim. How often have you seen that? It’s like every hot day, black folks go to pools and lakes to splash around, not to swim. It’s so dangerous, even with a life jacket.

And we wonder why the drowning rate is so high. . .

It’s one thing to read about Cullen Jones being hands on with children. It’s another thing to hear of it first hand from a swim parent. It’s another thing altogether to see it for yourself. Keep on, Cullen! You are singlehandedly reversing the non-swimming trend among black people.

I’ve been reading this discussion about a Ghanaian slave ship diving opportunity. It sounds very interesting. Not to mention ironic. To willingly sign up for such an expedition? Talk about freedom.

My husband, like Mr. Duplessis, grew up in the south. Mr. Duplessis tells us that pools in the south were closed to blacks in the 1960s through the early 80s. I asked my husband about it. He remembers trying to go swimming in the 80s and being told that the pool was closed.

I am shocked and appalled. And we wonder why more black folks don’t swim. And, as they say, if you don’t know your history, you’re doomed to repeat it. Hello, Philadelphia, summer of 2009.

Naji Ali goes on to say that one of the reasons captive Africans were tied down in the hulls of the slave ships was to prevent them from jumping in the water and swimming away.

That is a powerful image and legacy, quite different from the picture of the runaway slave captured or killed by an inability to swim.

So, what can we do? We can make concerted efforts to break the cycle of non-swimming. We can sign our children up for swim lessons and swim teams. If black swimming were as widespread as say, rollerskating back in the day, or basketball now, then more of our children would become swim teachers and coaches.

I know first-hand how effective black teachers are in the pool.

In short, this problem is not our fault, but it is our responsibility. We are capable of pulling ourselves out of this hole. We need to roll up our sleeves and get to work. What work do you think we need to do?

“If the Africans knew how to swim when they came to the Americas, slavery would have ended before it got started.” –

“Man, we don’t need to swim we play basketball, football and even golf and tennis now!” and my reply is always the same, ‘Ah yes that’s true. But – to the best of my knowledge – I’ve never heard of anyone dyng because they couldn’t dunk, catch a sideline route pass, shoot three under par, or volley at the net.’

I just didn’t see swimming as that deep until Naji, open water swimmer, put it like that.

Another forum gave a creepy face to the drowning rate. Statistics are one thing; pictures of victims are a whole different thing. AK relates images that probably still haunt her—images of drowning victims in various pools she’s used.

The victims’ stories are eerily the same. The pool was closed or off limits. The kids snuck in to have some fun. They couldn’t swim, and neither could their friends. They drowned and couldn’t be revived.

Suddenly, swimming morphs from an athletic option to a life or death scenario. Naji says it should start there. That swimming is first and foremost a lifesaving proposal. After you get to the point where you can save your life, then you can talk about swimming as sport.

My husband found the piece that connects the puzzle: swim teams train you to be proficient enough to be safe in the water. If you want your child to know how to be safe enough to save themselves in the water, I suggest you sign them up for a swim team. You don’t have to already know how to swim—that’s a myth. The coaches can teach the swimming.

You supply the heart.

I must have just gotten over my water fear the summer or so before I learned how to swim.

I mention that to say that I understand what it is to be afraid of the water. Black people have historical fear of the water. This crippling fear leads to thinking about not knowing how to swim all the time. Or thinking about dying all the time, huh?

This kind of fear takes faith to overcome. I will never forget when I made the decision to go in the deep water for the first time. Deep water was the last barrier to my really learning to swim. I remember thinking, “what’s the worse that could happen? I could drown. But I don’t think that’s going to happen. .. ” That was faith. And I’ve looked at swimming as a gift from God ever since.

If you can’t swim, and all you ever think about when you’re near water is dying, you can overcome that fear. God has not given us a spirit of fear. If you ask Him, He can free you from that fear. Then you can go on, free from that fear, free to live your life. Just ask Him.