Getting everybody in the water

Shaun Anderson stood on the deck of Norfolk State University's pool, allowing Wanda Butts to captivate the audience as he knew she would. If there's anyone more passionate than Anderson about this growing goal of his, it's Butts.

She had flown from Ohio the night before to this drizzly Saturday morning event to talk about Josh, her 16-year-old son who drowned more than a year ago.

"He could not swim," she said to the more than 100 parents and swimsuit-clad kids wiggling in the bleachers. "He was taught about stranger danger, how not to play with matches - why not water safety?"

As she finished, many of the kids looked beyond her, planning their cannonballs into the pool; others eyed it with trepidation. Anderson, the 29-year-old director of pool operations and swimming instructor, was pleased just to see them, mostly minority children, on this cool day. That is the first step to getting everybody in the water.

For Anderson, trying to get more minorities, blacks in particular, to take swimming seriously is a matter of life and death. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, blacks are more likely to drown - three times more so for children between the ages of 5 and 14 - than whites.

"Nine people a day die from drowning," Anderson said one day in his office, between classes. "If that was a disease, that would be an epidemic.

"What hurts the most is that I can teach people. I could teach nine people today."

Two years ago, USA Swimming, the sport's governing body, hired John Cruzat, its first national diversity specialist, to do something about its own numbers: Of its 300,000 members, less than 4 percent are minorities.

But getting more blacks to swim is more than being politically correct. And it isn't as easy as flinging open the pool doors.

Anderson is combating stereotypes that blacks don't swim - at least, not beyond splashing in shallow water. Over the years, some often-discredited studies said blacks couldn't swim because of a "lack of buoyancy."

Wanda Butts had grown up afraid of the water, a fear she learned from her father. Her son didn't like the water, either. She didn't know he and his friends decided that August day in 2006 to get on a raft in a lake. He was helpless once he fell in.

"I think it's not a priority for us," Butts said, referring to blacks. "Baseball, basketball - Josh played all of that. But swimming, we just didn't think of it."

There are other reasons, like the half-hearted joke among black women about the drying effect of chlorine on the hair. Cruzat said many communities of color lack maintained pools with good coaches and programs that go beyond "happy, splashy" time.

Competitive swimming can cost thousands a year in swim team memberships, coaching and traveling, and that climbs as swimmers move through the elite ranks. Anderson coaches with the Tidewater Aquatic Club, a local USA Swimming group that offers scholarships to defray costs.

Many families, he said, aren't going to pump money into a sport unless there's a payoff at the end, such as a college scholarship. And the Olympics aren't flooded with black swimmers who can serve as ambassadors.

Cruzat said USA Swimming's mission is layered. Minority recruitment, he said, is "the right thing to do." His group recognizes that for the sport to thrive, it needs a diversity of athletes to better represent the U.S. in international competition.

The health and wellness aspects of the sport are perfect for minority groups that are disproportionately plagued by heart disease, high blood pressure and obesity, he said.

Cruzat travels around the country, trying to partner his nonprofit group with urban centers to offer lessons and introduce swimming to children.

Anderson learned at a neighborhood pool in New Jersey when he was a preschooler and was competing by age 5. But all the way through school, up to Penn State University, "I was always one of the few.

"At junior nationals, out of thousands of swimmers, maybe 10 were black."

Anderson loves the sport. He earned a spot on the Penn State squad and has traveled around the world coaching and competing.

Anderson accepted his teaching job at Norfolk State four years ago and soon after thought about resurrecting a team; the school had one years ago. He requested making it a recognized sport again, but it joins a growing wish list, along with lacrosse and golf, that the athletic department gets each year. Approving teams is a lengthy process, and establishing them costs money.

He put up fliers for a university swim club, which is listed as a student activity, not athletics. But, at least he'd get students swimming. About 30 signed up and practiced. They swam in a couple of meets against North Carolina A&T State University and Howard University, two of the few historically black colleges with teams.

Some of his swimmers had good qualifying times but, because they weren't a team, their times didn't count. Frustrated, some members stopped practicing.

Anderson said there isn't a local pipeline sending kids his way, either. Serious competitors need to start young and eventually commit to it every day, year round. Local high school seasons last only a few months, and many of the predominantly black schools aren't fielding strong teams.

He sends his most promising Tidewater Aquatic swimmers, minority and not, to other colleges when he'd love to funnel them to Norfolk State and build the school's profile.

"I can train you for events, but I can't give you a scholarship to come here."

So each year Anderson posts a sign-up sheet for the swim club. A few die-hard members swim and coach at the high schools. One recently had two of Booker T. Washington's swimmers, which was half the team, at Norfolk State's pool.

The swim club also helps with the annual April Pools Day, a water safety event run in conjunction with the American Red Cross. Anderson helped pull the event to Norfolk State the past four years, which he sees as a way to present the school to the public as a swimming facility.

While he still wants that team, Anderson became equally concerned about emphasizing swimming as a life skill. He talked to other TAC coaches who have helped him offer free swim lessons in Norfolk recreation centers.

This past fall, Anderson came up with his biggest, and dearest, project yet. He got the idea after attending a diversity summit in Colorado. It was there that he heard Butts talk about the "Josh Project," a program of free, "drown-proofing" lessons for all children, but it targets minorities.

Anderson asked her if he could establish the first branch at Norfolk State. She was honored.

It offers lessons on Monday evenings; students work at their own pace. The goal isn't mastering strokes; it's learning enough to keep children alive if they fall into water - how not to panic, how to swim to the side of a pool and get out and how to float on their backs.

Betsy Hnath, who coaches with Anderson at TAC, was looking for a way to parlay her coaching into community service when Anderson approached her.

"He really has a passion to give back, this general sense of community and altruism."

When she coached at Norfolk Academy and the Mallory Country Club in Nofolk's West Ghent neighborhood, Hnath taught children who were typically much younger and more used to the water. She said teaching on Monday nights is the highlight of her week now.

"It's where you can change people's lives by making them safer."

Ashley Hill, 9, couldn't swim before starting her Josh lessons. Now, not only can she swim, she does a mean backstroke and is fearless when jumping off the diving board.

"Oh, I can freestyle, backstroke," Ashley said after a recent lesson. "I can blow out of my nose under the water!"

Her mother says Ashley is interested in swimming competitively.

Which brings Anderson's hopes full circle under the umbrella he recently named The Norfolk State University Diversity in Aquatics Program. He wants to get kids swimming early, on their high school and community teams, then maybe have them on that squad at Norfolk State one day. Then the students can become coaches and pull more kids into the pool.

Anderson circled the deck at the closing of this month's April Pools Day. The kids had rotated between stations, learning about boating safety while sitting in canoes at one corner of the pool and how to hold their breath under water in the opposite end.

"You have a good time today, buddy?" he asked one boy, who, dripping wet, nodded enthusiastically.

Good. Kids who enjoy the water will return.

Anderson thanked the volunteers, then dipped into the hallways where other children were lining up for snacks. He passed by a table with a sign-up sheet for Josh lessons. Ten names were scribbled on the waiting list. A mother walked up to write her son's name to keep it growing.

Denise Watson Batts, (757) 446-2504, denise.batts@pilotonline.com