Swimming has changed my life in so many positive ways. However, it didn't start out so great.
My mom wanted me to be water-safe, so she took me to swimming lessons at the local YMCA. I was only three, and if I think hard enough, I can just glimpse faint foggy images from that first day. If I dwell on it, details bubble up, and a string of events takes shape...
Walking on frozen brown grass. It crunches underfoot. The trees are naked. It's wintertime in Gastonia, North Carolina. I don't come up to mom's hip. I see her face from a low hard angle, see her jaw set, so determined. Mom's mind is fixed on my learning how to swim, but I'm not so sure if I care about swimming.
The Y, as daddy called it, seems wide and very flat, with circular brick. "Modern" was the word he used when he went there to play basketball. Daddy was supposed to get me into swimming lessons, but he didn't sign me up. Mom's got to do it, and in our house, Mom does whatever she decides to.
Inside, I hide under the edge of a counter, staring at mom's shoes. She wears Tretorns, I think. She says she likes them because they feel like pillows on her feet.
I feel cold blasts of air from doors opening from different sides, walking down a huge hallway. I drag my hand on exposed brick, which turns into concrete. I'm in the belly of the YMCA beast.
I want to go to the gym and play on the cushy mats, something I do when I come with daddy when he plays ball. I don't. Mom pulls me toward a door with a foggy glass window. She pushes it open. Inside there's a pool.
It's hot. The air's heavy and thick, sucking it into my lungs. It feels like something Tarzan might know, a word I've heard: tropical.
I don't remember changing into swim-trunks, but they were trunks; big and baggy and bunching up around my crouch in a way that feels very uncomfortable. The water's ice-cold. Goose-flesh rises on my arms. The tiny bumps sting coming up so fast. I cling to the shiny ladder in the water. I don't care that the ladder too feels cold.
A woman moves down a line of strange kids, pulling them of the wall one by one. Some go willing. Others fight her. I don't know which one I'll be.
Mom hangs her head over the side of the pool and sticks it in my face: "Be mindful of Mrs. Whiteside, son. You'll be fine. Trust me, you're very safe."
The last image I remember: being pulled from that ladder. It was silvery, drifting away. Fear was all I felt. Fear was all through me. I was just so scared of the water that day...
In my mind, somehow time has evaporated between that silvery ladder and when I started to really feel the water. I remember racing my first backstroke race. I remember my first 50 yard butterfly. I remember, fleetingly, diving into the pool and my paisley Speedo dragging down to my knees.
Then, I'm running with kids through the YMCA. I'm a little older, and happy. I know some time in the future I'll be traveling to swim meets. I know I'll have fun and be with friends. Swimming is my life. Pools are my home. Somehow it all happened so quickly.
It worries me to know that million of kids can't and won't have the opportunities I've had. Millions come from families that can't afford swimming lessons. I never thought about it until I met Christopher LaBianco, my friend who heads up the USA Swimming Foundation. I'm glad we met. I'm glad he understands swimming from my perspective. He patiently told me the stats I should have known, but didn't: that drowning is the leading cause of injury-related death for kids under fourteen. Being a swimmer, you would think you'd know your sport top to bottom. I never thought about it. And why should I? I was given my opportunities.
"Don't all kids learn to swim?"
The answer is clear and true and sad.
"They absolutely do not."
We can change that, and we have to a tiny degree. On Facebook we're coming together day by day, as a very interactive and caring community. I'm so thankful for Facebook. I've met so many old friends there, and made many more along the way. Many have joined "Suppport the USA Swimming Foundation" cause page. We've grown rapidly. We crossed 2000 members today!
I know we're going to continue to grow. The Foundation is the most positive part of USA Swimming. We save lives, one swimming lesson at a time. You can feel good about supporting kids who can't afford lessons. You can spread the word and recruit new members to join, and of course, any financial support is greatly appreciated.
For the next four weeks we're offering Foundation towels, big, beautiful, fluffy white, 100% cotton towels. I like them. They're very high quality. They have the USA Swimming Foundation logo on the corner, and one can be yours as our thanks for a $100 donation.
Drowning is a serious issue which can be solved by water-safety education, but I know being serious all the time isn't how most people like to spend their day. So I'll be doing my best to remind you of our CAUSE in entertaining ways. Swimming to me is a lifestyle. It's fellowship, fun and family. Join us and have fun participating.
A great example of participation is Brandon Franklin. He's a Champions Club Member, master swimmers, and all around swimming expert. But I call Brandon my friend. We've done a video together to get the word out about our towel offer. Brandon also shot some of the best footage our of great Olympic swimmers and USA National Team members lending their support. If you see Brandon, say hello. He's Foundation Family, aside from being a very thoughtful guy. Here's the video:
Gold Medal Mel and Brandon Franklin Foundation Towel Announcement from Mel Stewart on Vimeo.
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