By Imani Bashir, The New York Times, June 17, 2021
My son, Nasir, and I took our first “mommy and me” swim class just after he turned 1. He had always loved sticking his feet in the water at the beach or floating on my husband’s back, but this would be his first experience learning to immerse himself in a body of water. And although he was a bit distracted by the floaties, squeaky toys and attempting to drink the water, he had a natural inclination for swimming.
As the instructor gently focused on the mechanics of my son kicking his feet and navigating through the water on his belly, I thought of my first experience “learning to swim” in a pool. I was taught to swim by my father dropping me in the deep end of a hotel pool during a family reunion and telling me to meet him on the other side. I was around 4 years old at the time.
I wasn’t frightened by my dad’s unorthodox technique, but it was no substitute for formal lessons. Although I was comfortable traversing a pool after that trial by fire, I never felt that I knew enough to save my own life or someone else’s in an emergency. So when I was 28, I set out to challenge myself by earning a scuba diving certification. As a Black woman in America and the only one in the class who looked like me, it was a stretch.
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