I’ve been threatening to take the kids to my sister-in-law’s pool for weeks. Turns out, the pool wasn’t ready for us until the 4th, when they invited us for a pool party. It was right on time, as the weather was to be 90 degrees and humid.

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.

So we were invited to a birthday party today. It was an outdoor party, held at a camp. I knew they were going to swim, but with basketball, archery, and other activities, I didn’t expect to find anyone in the water for long. We were running late, I didn’t have my teenage helpers, I had just gotten my hair done, so I’d decided my kids wouldn’t swim.

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.

The discussion on Diversity in Aquatics continues. Erroll Dupplessis brought up something that I immediately scoffed at. I thought access to a pool was an irrelevant, old fashioned issue. Then I asked my husband about it.

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?