Pool Patrol Paula. Regulator Ralph. ID Adam. It seems like every time I look at social media lately, there is a new video of a white person trying to exclude black folks from a pool somewhere in the United States. And every time, it brings me right back to growing up in Philadelphia, where I experienced the very same thing myself.
Mabari out on the water
People seem to think this is a new phenomenon, or unusual. Nope. As a black man trying to swim in public, I’ve been asked to swipe my card again to prove that it works. I’ve been asked for my address, asked if I knew how to swim, or even if I was in the wrong neighborhood. These were some of my easier experiences, as an adult.
When I was a teenager, it was much worse. Heated arguments between my friends and pool staff were common. We heard racist remarks directed at us by both patrons and pool staff. More than once these incidents ended in punches thrown between my friends and pool staff trying to exclude us, and a few ended with local police officers escorting us off the property -- despite the fact that we had every right to be there. We were usually told that we could only use the pool if we had a chaperone over 18 with us at all times. We would look around the pool at all the white teenagers there without a chaperone and just shake our heads.
When I look back on this, the thing that surprises me most is that we kept trying to swim anyway. Our usual summer pastime was to hit up pools, beaches, and recreation centers in predominantly white neighborhoods all over the Tri-State area. Part of this was a rebellion against the people who didn’t want us there, sure, but it was really more because our local pools were either run-down, understaffed, or five feet deep.  But our determination to swim where we weren’t wanted was the exception and not the rule of how people viewed this issue in my neighborhood.
There’s a stereotype that black folks can’t swim. I hear it all the time in my work as a Sierra Club Outdoors Coordinator. And the stereotype is based in reality: Black children ages 5-14 are three times more likely to drown than white children. But that reality is a reflection of racism and segregation, not some natural phenomenon. Black people have been excluded from public pools as long as there have been public pools. We may not be formally excluded today like our grandparents were in the Jim Crow era, but these recent viral videos have revealed to the world what I already knew from experience: It’s hard to feel welcome at a beach or pool as a black person. After generations of exclusion, it’s no surprise that 70 percent of black people in the U.S. do not know how to swim.
Mabari's daughter enjoying her local pool
This intergenerational cycle of fear must be broken! We need aggressive outreach for swimming programs aimed at black communities. We need to inform people about the public health benefits of swimming and help people to feel welcome at public swimming pools by intervening when we see people being harassed on the basis of their identity. We need programs that include beginner and advanced water safety and swim instruction, and offer the community convenient swim hours. People are dying, and this situation will not be fixed without caring intervention. It is time to dive into the pool.Â
In Philadelphia, there are a few active initiatives that work to address this issue like “Swim Philly,” a program from Philadelphia Parks and Recreation meant to increase attendance and services at municipal pools by offering swim classes and other aquatic programming to Philadelphia residents throughout the summer. I’ve witnessed firsthand Philadelphia’s progressive efforts within the past decade to provide residents with equitable access to quality public pools, while encouraging families to participate in aquatic recreation at their local rec centers. When I worked with PowerCorpsPHL to lead Americorps crews that were repainting and revitalizing public pools, I learned that investing in creating fun, inviting, and aesthetically pleasing spaces around water is crucial toward removing barriers for communities of color to participate and enjoy them in a way that is relevant to their needs and preferences. Often after completing a full restoration project with amenities like beach chairs, fake palm trees, and aquatic toys, we would subsequently see local residents appear out of nowhere, walking toward the rec centers wearing flip-flops, carrying towels and coolers, excited to finally have the opportunity to relax at a pool that is pleasing to look at. I’ve heard from more than one person that features that look more like nature make pool visitors feel like they were somewhere out in nature, rather than right down the block from their homes.
Out on the water with Sierra Club Outdoors
If we desire to truly build inclusive spaces around water, we must acknowledge that there’s a history of black communities being excluded from aquatic recreation. I’ve seen firsthand just how creating welcoming and inclusive spaces for people of color to participate in aquatic recreation makes a world of difference, especially living in a world where you could potentially lose your freedom for literally just trying to get your feet wet. And it’s not just about the built environment of pools -- we must talk about ways that local organizations and community stakeholders can provide fun and inviting experiences that will support black communities with developing confidence and interest to engage their local waterways. How can we expect disenfranchised communities to go kayaking, river rafting, or even fishing, if they cannot swim, live in fear of large bodies of water, or just flat out don’t see the point in exploring our local watersheds? Learning to swim is a fundamental skill that provides many Americans with the confidence to go on and indulge in many other forms of water recreation that have traditionally and exclusively been enjoyed by white people.
Stay tuned here on Lay of the Land for further reflections from Mabari on what Sierra Club and the broader outdoor recreation community can do to promote water safety and enjoyment in black communities.