Kids of color are drowning at higher rates. We can do something about it.

I grew up in foster care in inner-city Columbus, Ohio, and spent the summer break before first grade at the Boys and Girls Club. Summer days in Columbus — much like in Philadelphia — can be quite hot, so one day we went to an indoor pool to cool off.

Observing the older kids jumping into the water with just a pool noodle between their legs, I assumed that this was the formula to stay afloat. I asked no further questions, grabbed the nearest Styrofoam noodle I could find, and walked to the opposite corner of the pool where it was the deepest. With my next step and breath, I left the solid ground beneath me and replaced it with unforgiving water. Panicking, I managed to intermittently emerge to the surface, snatching dissipating pockets of air until — after what felt like an eternity — I was finally rescued from drowning.

In June 2024, a 9-year-old African American boy drowned in the Tacony Creek in Northeast Philly. He was with friends at the time, who had to frantically trek out of the wooded area to call for help. Unfortunately, by the time help arrived, it was too late.

Similar stories have been told over the years with different faces, in different bodies of water, but with similar outcomes.

Even though drowning is preventable, it is the second leading cause of unintentional death in children. Roughly 4,000 U.S. children die from accidental drowning every year.

Although the rate of death by drowning in people under 30 years old has decreased in the last 20 years, the racial disparities have only worsened. Today, children of color have significantly higher rates of death by drowning than white children.

The roots of this disparity can be traced to institutional racism, which solidified during segregation. Black people were banned from pools because of the racist notion that they were dirty and the pool water was a vehicle for transmission of diseases. Also, there was fear of having Black men within the same space as white women.

The 1964 Civil Rights Act forced public pools to integrate, but in response, the funding of municipal pools was reallocated, and Americans shifted toward private pools. Limited funding led to suboptimal upkeep of the public pools, which resulted in the closure of many.

One cannot learn to swim in a day, because in order to develop the skills to swim, one must practice repeatedly to not only learn techniques but also to unlearn fears about water.

Unfortunately, there are barriers to learning how to swim, such as access to a pool, transportation, and finding an instructor — all of which can be costly. It has become clear that class division has legally taken the place of racial segregation as memberships to private pools are paywalls in disguise — to exclude the working and lower classes.

As a result, membership fees and the cost of swimming lessons resegregated the Black community.

So with limited access to public swimming pools, generations of Black youth did not have the necessary repeated exposure to gain the skills to become confident swimmers. If a person does not know how to swim, they are less likely to frequent pools, let alone get in one. These habits and water-avoidant behaviors are then passively learned by children, as their parents are unlikely to take them to the pool. Today, more than 50% of Black children in the U.S. cannot swim.

Summer is canonically the season of freedom and adventure. However, unsupervised curiosity next to any body of water can lead to danger. To save lives and protect our youth, we must teach them how to swim and avoid water’s potential dangers.

Since my first near-death experience, I have had a handful of similar events in adolescence and adulthood, which prompted me to take adult swim lessons. I met once a week with an instructor at a local gym’s indoor pool where I was not a member (which meant I was charged an additional fee). The lessons themselves were priced at $300 for five 30-minute sessions.

But low-cost opportunities exist. We Can Swim! offers free swimming lessons on the University of Pennsylvania’s campus to children between kindergarten and sixth grade. Year-round, local YMCAs give lessons to people of all ages for a relatively low fee. In addition to educating their children about the importance of water safety, parents and guardians can take the initiative to learn CPR for that critical moment when every second counts.

In Philadelphia, there are over 60 public swimming pools that began opening last month. According to the city’s fiscal year 2025 operating budget, the Department of Parks and Recreation plans to “develop a year-round aquatics program to provide swim lessons, lifeguard training, and aquatic programming.” With the aim of promoting youth development and preventing violence, City Council allocated over $30 million to parks and recreation. Although the city’s pools have long been plagued by lifeguard shortages, parks and recreation has been working to recruit more, including waiving application and certification fees for candidates between the ages of 16 and 24.

Children deserve long summers drowning in memories and laughter — not water. It is our responsibility to provide them with the necessary skills to survive. We must teach our youth — all of them — how to swim.

Terrence Habiyaremye is an emergency medicine physician at Temple University Hospital in Philadelphia.