How I Learned to Swim Away My Intergenerational Trauma
This fear is an ancestral one, but I wanted to overcome it to know freedom
I have a fluctuating relationship with swimming. As an adult, I gave it little to no thought, and never questioned why until last summer. When invited to a swimming event by hairstylist Felicia Leatherwood, I was forced to address memories I’d compartmentalized for years.
In my childhood, most of my fondest memories took place around water. I would run to the beach shores, jet down slides in water parks, and gladly get drenched during a performance at Sea World. When finding out about family trips, I would burst with excitement when discovering we’d have access to a pool. Around the age of 10, my mom stopped regularly taking me to these activities. Any reference I made was followed with a statement on how I could not swim. The few times that followed, I was never allowed in the water alone, and carried a flotation device to make my mom comfortable.
Her projections seemed that much more valid when she prevented me from swimming with my white classmates. Through taking private lessons, I became insecure about my skill set as I watched them swim freely in a neighboring pool. I was so embarrassed to fit the stereotype about Black people not swimming that I stopped going altogether.
