Summer has ended her heated love affair with the Windy City. Sunny soirees are waving goodbye to Chicago residents, as they pack up their all-white party pants for another year. It’s also a time for reflection about: Netflix binges, cringe-worthy ice cream benders and most of all, how much FUN summer was.
I love the summer. Mine was particularly fun this year as it was full of firsts: the written completion of my first full book manuscript; my first trip to South Africa; the launch of my first podcast series, Marketing Insights; the first time I swam across an entire swimming pool.
Yeah, I said it.
I’m proud to say that I learned how to swim this summer. It only took me over four decades from the time that I first placed my pinky toe into a liquid channel outside my bathtub. There are several reasons for this long delay, all of which can be summed up in four words. Black. People. Don’t. Swim. Most don’t know how.
I’m not making this up. A 2010 survey sponsored by USA Swimming revealed stark statistics. Nearly 70 percent of Black children surveyed said they had no or low ability to swim. Low ability meant they were able to splash around in the shallow end of a swimming pool. Only 12 percent said they could swim but had “taught themselves.” Some of this lack of knowledge began during a low point in American history. From the 1920s through the 1960s, Blacks were largely and systemically denied access to public pools and beaches. As a result, swimming never became embedded in the Black recreational culture. That sentiment extends today, with many Black parents not teaching their children to swim.
While not having access to pools is still an issue, albeit, for reasons other than race, that is not the main reason Blacks don’t swim. Fear of drowning is the number one holdout. “Fear of drowning or fear of injury was the major variable,” says Professor Carol Irwin, a sociologist from the University of Memphis, who led a study for USA Swimming. Professor Irwin further elaborated that many Black parents who could not swim revealed sentiments like: “My children are never going to learn to swim because I’m scared they would drown.” Here are some additional theories from the study for reasons for low Black American swimming rates:
- Propagation of incorrect scientific theories such as Black people being much less buoyant
- Denial of access to pools from the 1920s to the 1960s causing a ripple effect to present day
- Lack of municipal pools in predominantly Black neighborhoods in the 1960s onwards
- Perception of swimming as an elitist or White sport
I recently spoke with a Black female colleague who is also an avid swimmer to get her perspective on the glaring disparity between Black and White swimmers in the U.S. Here’s what she said: “Perhaps Black people are hesitant to enter large bodies of water given that oceans were the method of transport that tore many of us from our homelands and brought us to the Americas.”
Interesting point. Her observation further elaborates on the issue of fear as it relates to Blacks’ relationship with waterways. In the hundreds of years preceding the Middle Passage, mother nature has hurled the equivalent of aquatic acid into the face of Blacks on many devastating occasions.
This past summer, a Black woman, Tia Coleman, lost her husband Glenn, their three children, and a total of nine family members after a duck boat capsized during an unexpected rainstorm in Branson, Mo. Ms. Coleman and a nephew were the sole survivors of their family. She was also the only one in her family who was a good swimmer.
Recently news of Hurricane Florence hurling her liquid lash over the Southeastern portion of the country reminded us of others who’ve lost lives due to water. We send our prayers to those mourning the loss of loved ones and we remember the devastating death tolls of Maria, Irma and Katrina. I am also hopeful that the media does a better job covering the victims impacted by this tragedy than they did with Hurricane Katrina sufferers. Numerous reporters labeled the predominantly Black subjects of Hurricane Katrina as looters and savages, versus life-saving heroes and survivors, which appears to be the case this time around.
There are a lot of things Black people cannot control, such as raging storms, senseless gun violence and other people’s ability to make good potato salad. However, teaching oneself to swim IS an attainable goal for Black people. It is also one that is tied to highly favorable outcomes. For that reason, I encourage every Black person to make learning to swim a priority. I encourage my sisters in particular, to shift back and forth between the waves they slay on top of their heads into ones they navigate around in the wave pool. Your beautician and your behind will thank you for it.
Shanita Baraka Akintonde is a tenured professor in the Communications
Department at Columbia College Chicago. She is also a wife, mother, professional speaker, podcaster and published author propelled by love. Her latest book, The Heart of a Leader, was released in September 2018. If you want to be added to her email distribution list, reach out to her today at sakintonde@colum.edu. You can also follow her on Twitter @SHAKINTONDE and connect with her on Linked In: www.linkedin.com/in/shanitaakintonde/.