I Took Swimming Lessons

Jumping into a cool pool on a hot day is the summer’s equivalent of smelling fresh, warm cookies baking on a cold winter evening. And I relish in the feeling. I’ve loved being in the water for as long as I can remember. Water is a hug; it is comfort and safety. What a privilege to be free from the fear of drowning as a child. As an adult, however, I know the dangers of open water much better.

With my life vest secured, I leaped into the water. I didn’t know how to swim, so I floated on my back like I was making a snow angel. I used that time to silence the noise of the outside world and focus on the sun, the sky, and my breathing. The glug glug plop of the water was a beautiful, peaceful sound. Unfortunately, as an adult, I simply cannot rely on a gaudy life vest to hold me steady in the water. And despite my comfort in pools, I never learned to swim. In my defense, it never came up! Sure, I had a summer birthday. But who needs a pool when you have a water slide and adventure parks to visit instead?

There are plenty of people with a similar story where learning to swim was not a priority. In 2024, the CDC found that approximately one half of U.S. adults reported never having taken swimming lessons, and over one third of Black Americans reported not knowing how to swim. I am surrounded by countless county-owned public pools (one that is even named after gold medalist Steve Lundquist because he graduated from my county), but I never frequented them. This summer, I found out that my county’s Parks and Recreation department offers steeply discounted swim lessons for adults! So, obviously I should take advantage of those swim lessons.

Earlier this year, I told myself that it would be the summer of learning about myself. And something I learned is that, despite never taking swim lessons before, I’m a natural in the water. I’m not on the level of Steve Lundquist, but I sure know how to kick my legs! I was treated as an intermediate swimmer after my first day of lessons. I would always watch people swim as a kid, then I would imitate those movements. The muscle memory must have stuck with me as an adult. Apparently I’m a great mimic.

Law school is a period of living in your head and thinking through every detail, then thinking through the thought process you used when thinking of the last ten details. See? Swimming is about the mind body connection. Before coming to law school, I was given the advice to consistently visit a gym or participate in some type of movement activity since the legal field is a sedentary profession. I wish I had taken that advice seriously, because the mind-body connection that was sparked by swimming is immensely illuminating. Not only do I need to be aware of my body’s movements to swim, but I also need to get out of my head and prevent overthinking.

During my first-year externship with the Clayton County District Attorney, I ended most of my verbal recommendations with, ‘but I’m not sure.’ My supervisor told me to trust my gut because I was smart and correct. I was used to second-guessing my legal skills because it felt like my less-than-one-year of education was worth less than even a drop in the bucket of legal minds that have ever existed. Yet, I had an attorney who believed my goal was not misguided. Before coming to law school, I always trusted my gut. Anxiety and cold calls shook my faith. Externships affirmed my journey and smarts. And swimming reminded me to silence the noise with a glug glug plop from time to time.

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