Latest news with #Makos'
Yahoo
12-04-2025
- Sport
- Yahoo
More than 1 in 3 Black adults say they can't swim. This team is trying to teach them and their kids
At a swim meet just outside St. Louis, heads turned when a team of young swimmers walked through the rec center with their parents in tow. A supportive mom kept her eye on the clock while the Makos Swim Team athletes tucked their natural curls, braids and locs into yellow swimming caps. In the bleachers, spectators whispered about the team's presence at the pool in Centralia, Illinois — as they do at almost every competition. 'They don't know that we're listening,' Randella Randell, a swimmer's mom, said later. 'But we're here to stay. We're here to represent. We're going to show you that Black kids know how to swim. We swim, too.' Randell's son, Elijah Gilliam, 14, is a member of the Makos' competitive YMCA and USA Swimming program based in north St. Louis. Almost 40 athletes, ages 4 to 19, swim on the squad, which encourages Black and multiracial kids to participate in the sport. Coached by Terea Goodwin and Torrie Preciado, the team also spreads the word about water safety in their community. 'If we can get everybody to learn how to swim, just that little bit, it would save so many lives,' said Goodwin, a kitchen and bathroom designer by day who is known as Coach T at the pool. 'Swimming is life.' But just like mako sharks, such teams of Black swimmers are rare. Detroit has the Razor Aquatics, Howard University in Washington, DC, has a team that's made headlines for winning championships, and some alums from North Carolina A&T's former swim team created a group to offer water safety classes. In the past, Black Americans were barred from many public swimming pools. When racial segregation was officially banned, White Americans established private swim clubs that required members to pay a fee that wasn't always affordable. As a result, swimming remained effectively segregated, and many Black Americans stayed away from pools. The impact is still felt. More than a third of Black adults report they do not know how to swim, according to US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention statistics, more than twice the rate for adults overall. Seeing a need in their community, the parents of the Makos swimmers formed the Black Swimmers Alliance at the end of 2023 with a goal of 'bridging the gap in aquatic skills,' according to its website. But the group, which offers swim lessons to families of color, is concerned about the flow of grant money dwindling because of the recent federal backlash against diversity, equity and inclusion programs. Even so, it is fundraising directly on its own, because lives are being lost. In late January, a 6-year-old died at a hotel pool in St. Louis. A boy the same age drowned while taking swim lessons at a St. Louis County pool in 2022. And across the river in Hamel, Illinois, a 3-year-old boy drowned in a backyard pool last fall. Drowning is the leading cause of death for children ages 1 through 4, according to the CDC. Black children and Black adults drown far more often than their White peers. Members of the Black Swimmers Alliance discussed those statistics before their advocacy work began. They also had to address another issue — many of the adult volunteers and parents with children on the Makos team didn't know how to swim. Even though their children were swimming competitively, the fear of drowning and the repercussions of history had kept the parents out of the pool. The Makos athletes also noticed that their parents were timid around water. That's when their roles reversed. The children started to look out for the grown-ups. Joseph Johnson, now 14, called out his mom, Connie Johnson, when she tried to give him a few tips about how to improve his performance. 'He was like, 'Mom, you have no idea,'' the now-55-year-old recalled. 'At first, I was offended, but he was absolutely right. I didn't know how to swim.' She signed up for lessons with Coach T. Najma Nasiruddin-Crump and her husband, Joshua Crump, signed up, too. His daughter Kaia Collins-Crump, now 14, had told them she wanted to join the Makos team the first time she saw it. But among the three of them, no one knew how to swim. Joshua Crump, 38, said he initially felt silly at the lessons, then started to get the hang of it. 'I don't swim well enough to beat any of the children in a race,' Crump said with a chuckle. Nasiruddin-Crump said she was terrified the first time she jumped into the deep end. 'It is the only moment in my life outside of birthing my children that I've been afraid of something,' the 33-year-old said. 'But once you do it, it's freedom. It's pure freedom.' Mahoganny Richardson, whose daughter Ava is on the team, volunteered to teach more Makos parents how to swim. She said the work starts outside the pool with a conversation about a person's experiences with water. She has heard stories about adults who were pushed into pools, then told to sink or swim. Black women were often told to stay out of the water to maintain hairstyles that would swell if their hair got wet. Bradlin Jacob-Simms, 47, decided to learn how to swim almost 20 years after her family survived Hurricane Katrina. She evacuated the day before the storm hit but said one of her friends survived only because that woman's brother was able to swim to find help. 'If it wasn't for him, they would have died,' Jacob-Simms said, noting that hundreds did drown. 'That's the reason why swimming is important to me. A lot of times, us as African Americans, we shy away from it. It's not really in our schools. It's not really pushed.' Makos swimmer Rocket McDonald, 13, encouraged his mom, Jamie McDonald, to get back into the water and stick with it. When she was a child, her parents had signed her up for swim lessons, but she never got the hang of it. Her dad was always leery of the water. McDonald didn't understand why until she read about a race riot at a pool not far from where her dad grew up that happened after St. Louis desegregated public pools in 1949. 'It was a full-circle moment,' McDonald said. 'It all makes sense now.' Now, at 42, McDonald is learning to swim again. Safety is always a priority for the Makos team. Coach T makes the athletes practice swimming in full clothing as a survival skill. Years ago, as a lifeguard in Kansas City, Missouri, Coach T pulled dozens of children out of recreational swimming pools who were drowning. Most of them, she said, were Black children who came to cool off but didn't know how to swim. 'I was literally jumping in daily, probably hourly, getting kids out of every section,' Goodwin said. After repeated rescues, too many to count, she decided to offer lessons. Swim lessons can be costly. The Black Swimmers Alliance aimed to fund 1,000 free swim lessons by the end of 2025. It had already funded 150 lessons in St. Louis. But when the group looked for grants, the alliance scaled back its goal to 500 lessons, out of caution about what funding would be available. It's still committed to helping Black athletes swim competitively throughout their school years and in college. Most of the time, the Makos swimmers practice in a YMCA pool that doesn't have starting blocks. Backstroke flags are held in place with fishing wire, and the assistant coach's husband, José Preciado, used his 3D printer to make red, regulation 15-meter markers for the team. Once a week, parents drive the team to a different YMCA pool that has starting blocks. That pool is about 5 degrees warmer for its senior patrons' comfort. Sometimes the young swimmers fuss about the heat, but practicing there helps them prepare for meets. Parents said White officials have frequently disqualified Makos swimmers. So some of the team parents studied the rules of the sport, and eventually four became officials to diversify the ranks and ensure all swimmers are treated fairly. Still, parents said, that hasn't stopped occasional racist comments from bystanders and other swimmers at meets. 'Some didn't think we'd make it this far, not because of who we are, but where we're from,' Goodwin has taught the Makos swimmers to recite. 'So we have to show them.' And this spring, Richardson is offering lessons for Makos parents while their children practice. 'It's not just about swimming,' Richardson said. 'It's about overcoming something that once felt impossible.' KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF — the independent source for health policy research, polling, and journalism.


CNN
12-04-2025
- Sport
- CNN
How one swim team is reversing the tide on the racial gap in water deaths
At a swim meet just outside St. Louis, heads turned when a team of young swimmers walked through the rec center with their parents in tow. A supportive mom kept her eye on the clock while the Makos Swim Team athletes tucked their natural curls, braids and locs into yellow swimming caps. In the bleachers, spectators whispered about the team's presence at the pool in Centralia, Illinois — as they do at almost every competition. 'They don't know that we're listening,' Randella Randell, a swimmer's mom, said later. 'But we're here to stay. We're here to represent. We're going to show you that Black kids know how to swim. We swim, too.' Randell's son, Elijah Gilliam, 14, is a member of the Makos' competitive YMCA and USA Swimming program based in north St. Louis. Almost 40 athletes, ages 4 to 19, swim on the squad, which encourages Black and multiracial kids to participate in the sport. Coached by Terea Goodwin and Torrie Preciado, the team also spreads the word about water safety in their community. 'If we can get everybody to learn how to swim, just that little bit, it would save so many lives,' said Goodwin, a kitchen and bathroom designer by day who is known as Coach T at the pool. 'Swimming is life.' But just like mako sharks, such teams of Black swimmers are rare. Detroit has the Razor Aquatics, Howard University in Washington, DC, has a team that's made headlines for winning championships, and some alums from North Carolina A&T's former swim team created a group to offer water safety classes. In the past, Black Americans were barred from many public swimming pools. When racial segregation was officially banned, White Americans established private swim clubs that required members to pay a fee that wasn't always affordable. As a result, swimming remained effectively segregated, and many Black Americans stayed away from pools. The impact is still felt. More than a third of Black adults report they do not know how to swim, according to US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention statistics, more than twice the rate for adults overall. Seeing a need in their community, the parents of the Makos swimmers formed the Black Swimmers Alliance at the end of 2023 with a goal of 'bridging the gap in aquatic skills,' according to its website. But the group, which offers swim lessons to families of color, is concerned about the flow of grant money dwindling because of the recent federal backlash against diversity, equity and inclusion programs. Even so, it is fundraising directly on its own, because lives are being lost. In late January, a 6-year-old died at a hotel pool in St. Louis. A boy the same age drowned while taking swim lessons at a St. Louis County pool in 2022. And across the river in Hamel, Illinois, a 3-year-old boy drowned in a backyard pool last fall. Drowning is the leading cause of death for children ages 1 through 4, according to the CDC. Black children and Black adults drown far more often than their White peers. Members of the Black Swimmers Alliance discussed those statistics before their advocacy work began. They also had to address another issue — many of the adult volunteers and parents with children on the Makos team didn't know how to swim. Even though their children were swimming competitively, the fear of drowning and the repercussions of history had kept the parents out of the pool. The Makos athletes also noticed that their parents were timid around water. That's when their roles reversed. The children started to look out for the grown-ups. Joseph Johnson, now 14, called out his mom, Connie Johnson, when she tried to give him a few tips about how to improve his performance. 'He was like, 'Mom, you have no idea,'' the now-55-year-old recalled. 'At first, I was offended, but he was absolutely right. I didn't know how to swim.' She signed up for lessons with Coach T. Najma Nasiruddin-Crump and her husband, Joshua Crump, signed up, too. His daughter Kaia Collins-Crump, now 14, had told them she wanted to join the Makos team the first time she saw it. But among the three of them, no one knew how to swim. Joshua Crump, 38, said he initially felt silly at the lessons, then started to get the hang of it. 'I don't swim well enough to beat any of the children in a race,' Crump said with a chuckle. Nasiruddin-Crump said she was terrified the first time she jumped into the deep end. 'It is the only moment in my life outside of birthing my children that I've been afraid of something,' the 33-year-old said. 'But once you do it, it's freedom. It's pure freedom.' Mahoganny Richardson, whose daughter Ava is on the team, volunteered to teach more Makos parents how to swim. She said the work starts outside the pool with a conversation about a person's experiences with water. She has heard stories about adults who were pushed into pools, then told to sink or swim. Black women were often told to stay out of the water to maintain hairstyles that would swell if their hair got wet. Bradlin Jacob-Simms, 47, decided to learn how to swim almost 20 years after her family survived Hurricane Katrina. She evacuated the day before the storm hit but said one of her friends survived only because that woman's brother was able to swim to find help. 'If it wasn't for him, they would have died,' Jacob-Simms said, noting that hundreds did drown. 'That's the reason why swimming is important to me. A lot of times, us as African Americans, we shy away from it. It's not really in our schools. It's not really pushed.' Makos swimmer Rocket McDonald, 13, encouraged his mom, Jamie McDonald, to get back into the water and stick with it. When she was a child, her parents had signed her up for swim lessons, but she never got the hang of it. Her dad was always leery of the water. McDonald didn't understand why until she read about a race riot at a pool not far from where her dad grew up that happened after St. Louis desegregated public pools in 1949. 'It was a full-circle moment,' McDonald said. 'It all makes sense now.' Now, at 42, McDonald is learning to swim again. Safety is always a priority for the Makos team. Coach T makes the athletes practice swimming in full clothing as a survival skill. Years ago, as a lifeguard in Kansas City, Missouri, Coach T pulled dozens of children out of recreational swimming pools who were drowning. Most of them, she said, were Black children who came to cool off but didn't know how to swim. 'I was literally jumping in daily, probably hourly, getting kids out of every section,' Goodwin said. After repeated rescues, too many to count, she decided to offer lessons. Swim lessons can be costly. The Black Swimmers Alliance aimed to fund 1,000 free swim lessons by the end of 2025. It had already funded 150 lessons in St. Louis. But when the group looked for grants, the alliance scaled back its goal to 500 lessons, out of caution about what funding would be available. It's still committed to helping Black athletes swim competitively throughout their school years and in college. Most of the time, the Makos swimmers practice in a YMCA pool that doesn't have starting blocks. Backstroke flags are held in place with fishing wire, and the assistant coach's husband, José Preciado, used his 3D printer to make red, regulation 15-meter markers for the team. Once a week, parents drive the team to a different YMCA pool that has starting blocks. That pool is about 5 degrees warmer for its senior patrons' comfort. Sometimes the young swimmers fuss about the heat, but practicing there helps them prepare for meets. Parents said White officials have frequently disqualified Makos swimmers. So some of the team parents studied the rules of the sport, and eventually four became officials to diversify the ranks and ensure all swimmers are treated fairly. Still, parents said, that hasn't stopped occasional racist comments from bystanders and other swimmers at meets. 'Some didn't think we'd make it this far, not because of who we are, but where we're from,' Goodwin has taught the Makos swimmers to recite. 'So we have to show them.' And this spring, Richardson is offering lessons for Makos parents while their children practice. 'It's not just about swimming,' Richardson said. 'It's about overcoming something that once felt impossible.' KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF — the independent source for health policy research, polling, and journalism.


CNN
12-04-2025
- Sport
- CNN
How one swim team is reversing the tide on the racial gap in water deaths
At a swim meet just outside St. Louis, heads turned when a team of young swimmers walked through the rec center with their parents in tow. A supportive mom kept her eye on the clock while the Makos Swim Team athletes tucked their natural curls, braids and locs into yellow swimming caps. In the bleachers, spectators whispered about the team's presence at the pool in Centralia, Illinois — as they do at almost every competition. 'They don't know that we're listening,' Randella Randell, a swimmer's mom, said later. 'But we're here to stay. We're here to represent. We're going to show you that Black kids know how to swim. We swim, too.' Randell's son, Elijah Gilliam, 14, is a member of the Makos' competitive YMCA and USA Swimming program based in north St. Louis. Almost 40 athletes, ages 4 to 19, swim on the squad, which encourages Black and multiracial kids to participate in the sport. Coached by Terea Goodwin and Torrie Preciado, the team also spreads the word about water safety in their community. 'If we can get everybody to learn how to swim, just that little bit, it would save so many lives,' said Goodwin, a kitchen and bathroom designer by day who is known as Coach T at the pool. 'Swimming is life.' But just like mako sharks, such teams of Black swimmers are rare. Detroit has the Razor Aquatics, Howard University in Washington, DC, has a team that's made headlines for winning championships, and some alums from North Carolina A&T's former swim team created a group to offer water safety classes. In the past, Black Americans were barred from many public swimming pools. When racial segregation was officially banned, White Americans established private swim clubs that required members to pay a fee that wasn't always affordable. As a result, swimming remained effectively segregated, and many Black Americans stayed away from pools. The impact is still felt. More than a third of Black adults report they do not know how to swim, according to US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention statistics, more than twice the rate for adults overall. Seeing a need in their community, the parents of the Makos swimmers formed the Black Swimmers Alliance at the end of 2023 with a goal of 'bridging the gap in aquatic skills,' according to its website. But the group, which offers swim lessons to families of color, is concerned about the flow of grant money dwindling because of the recent federal backlash against diversity, equity and inclusion programs. Even so, it is fundraising directly on its own, because lives are being lost. In late January, a 6-year-old died at a hotel pool in St. Louis. A boy the same age drowned while taking swim lessons at a St. Louis County pool in 2022. And across the river in Hamel, Illinois, a 3-year-old boy drowned in a backyard pool last fall. Drowning is the leading cause of death for children ages 1 through 4, according to the CDC. Black children and Black adults drown far more often than their White peers. Members of the Black Swimmers Alliance discussed those statistics before their advocacy work began. They also had to address another issue — many of the adult volunteers and parents with children on the Makos team didn't know how to swim. Even though their children were swimming competitively, the fear of drowning and the repercussions of history had kept the parents out of the pool. The Makos athletes also noticed that their parents were timid around water. That's when their roles reversed. The children started to look out for the grown-ups. Joseph Johnson, now 14, called out his mom, Connie Johnson, when she tried to give him a few tips about how to improve his performance. 'He was like, 'Mom, you have no idea,'' the now-55-year-old recalled. 'At first, I was offended, but he was absolutely right. I didn't know how to swim.' She signed up for lessons with Coach T. Najma Nasiruddin-Crump and her husband, Joshua Crump, signed up, too. His daughter Kaia Collins-Crump, now 14, had told them she wanted to join the Makos team the first time she saw it. But among the three of them, no one knew how to swim. Joshua Crump, 38, said he initially felt silly at the lessons, then started to get the hang of it. 'I don't swim well enough to beat any of the children in a race,' Crump said with a chuckle. Nasiruddin-Crump said she was terrified the first time she jumped into the deep end. 'It is the only moment in my life outside of birthing my children that I've been afraid of something,' the 33-year-old said. 'But once you do it, it's freedom. It's pure freedom.' Mahoganny Richardson, whose daughter Ava is on the team, volunteered to teach more Makos parents how to swim. She said the work starts outside the pool with a conversation about a person's experiences with water. She has heard stories about adults who were pushed into pools, then told to sink or swim. Black women were often told to stay out of the water to maintain hairstyles that would swell if their hair got wet. Bradlin Jacob-Simms, 47, decided to learn how to swim almost 20 years after her family survived Hurricane Katrina. She evacuated the day before the storm hit but said one of her friends survived only because that woman's brother was able to swim to find help. 'If it wasn't for him, they would have died,' Jacob-Simms said, noting that hundreds did drown. 'That's the reason why swimming is important to me. A lot of times, us as African Americans, we shy away from it. It's not really in our schools. It's not really pushed.' Makos swimmer Rocket McDonald, 13, encouraged his mom, Jamie McDonald, to get back into the water and stick with it. When she was a child, her parents had signed her up for swim lessons, but she never got the hang of it. Her dad was always leery of the water. McDonald didn't understand why until she read about a race riot at a pool not far from where her dad grew up that happened after St. Louis desegregated public pools in 1949. 'It was a full-circle moment,' McDonald said. 'It all makes sense now.' Now, at 42, McDonald is learning to swim again. Safety is always a priority for the Makos team. Coach T makes the athletes practice swimming in full clothing as a survival skill. Years ago, as a lifeguard in Kansas City, Missouri, Coach T pulled dozens of children out of recreational swimming pools who were drowning. Most of them, she said, were Black children who came to cool off but didn't know how to swim. 'I was literally jumping in daily, probably hourly, getting kids out of every section,' Goodwin said. After repeated rescues, too many to count, she decided to offer lessons. Swim lessons can be costly. The Black Swimmers Alliance aimed to fund 1,000 free swim lessons by the end of 2025. It had already funded 150 lessons in St. Louis. But when the group looked for grants, the alliance scaled back its goal to 500 lessons, out of caution about what funding would be available. It's still committed to helping Black athletes swim competitively throughout their school years and in college. Most of the time, the Makos swimmers practice in a YMCA pool that doesn't have starting blocks. Backstroke flags are held in place with fishing wire, and the assistant coach's husband, José Preciado, used his 3D printer to make red, regulation 15-meter markers for the team. Once a week, parents drive the team to a different YMCA pool that has starting blocks. That pool is about 5 degrees warmer for its senior patrons' comfort. Sometimes the young swimmers fuss about the heat, but practicing there helps them prepare for meets. Parents said White officials have frequently disqualified Makos swimmers. So some of the team parents studied the rules of the sport, and eventually four became officials to diversify the ranks and ensure all swimmers are treated fairly. Still, parents said, that hasn't stopped occasional racist comments from bystanders and other swimmers at meets. 'Some didn't think we'd make it this far, not because of who we are, but where we're from,' Goodwin has taught the Makos swimmers to recite. 'So we have to show them.' And this spring, Richardson is offering lessons for Makos parents while their children practice. 'It's not just about swimming,' Richardson said. 'It's about overcoming something that once felt impossible.' KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF — the independent source for health policy research, polling, and journalism.


CNN
12-04-2025
- Sport
- CNN
How one swim team is reversing the tide on the racial gap in water deaths
At a swim meet just outside St. Louis, heads turned when a team of young swimmers walked through the rec center with their parents in tow. A supportive mom kept her eye on the clock while the Makos Swim Team athletes tucked their natural curls, braids and locs into yellow swimming caps. In the bleachers, spectators whispered about the team's presence at the pool in Centralia, Illinois — as they do at almost every competition. 'They don't know that we're listening,' Randella Randell, a swimmer's mom, said later. 'But we're here to stay. We're here to represent. We're going to show you that Black kids know how to swim. We swim, too.' Randell's son, Elijah Gilliam, 14, is a member of the Makos' competitive YMCA and USA Swimming program based in north St. Louis. Almost 40 athletes, ages 4 to 19, swim on the squad, which encourages Black and multiracial kids to participate in the sport. Coached by Terea Goodwin and Torrie Preciado, the team also spreads the word about water safety in their community. 'If we can get everybody to learn how to swim, just that little bit, it would save so many lives,' said Goodwin, a kitchen and bathroom designer by day who is known as Coach T at the pool. 'Swimming is life.' But just like mako sharks, such teams of Black swimmers are rare. Detroit has the Razor Aquatics, Howard University in Washington, DC, has a team that's made headlines for winning championships, and some alums from North Carolina A&T's former swim team created a group to offer water safety classes. In the past, Black Americans were barred from many public swimming pools. When racial segregation was officially banned, White Americans established private swim clubs that required members to pay a fee that wasn't always affordable. As a result, swimming remained effectively segregated, and many Black Americans stayed away from pools. The impact is still felt. More than a third of Black adults report they do not know how to swim, according to US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention statistics, more than twice the rate for adults overall. Seeing a need in their community, the parents of the Makos swimmers formed the Black Swimmers Alliance at the end of 2023 with a goal of 'bridging the gap in aquatic skills,' according to its website. But the group, which offers swim lessons to families of color, is concerned about the flow of grant money dwindling because of the recent federal backlash against diversity, equity and inclusion programs. Even so, it is fundraising directly on its own, because lives are being lost. In late January, a 6-year-old died at a hotel pool in St. Louis. A boy the same age drowned while taking swim lessons at a St. Louis County pool in 2022. And across the river in Hamel, Illinois, a 3-year-old boy drowned in a backyard pool last fall. Drowning is the leading cause of death for children ages 1 through 4, according to the CDC. Black children and Black adults drown far more often than their White peers. Members of the Black Swimmers Alliance discussed those statistics before their advocacy work began. They also had to address another issue — many of the adult volunteers and parents with children on the Makos team didn't know how to swim. Even though their children were swimming competitively, the fear of drowning and the repercussions of history had kept the parents out of the pool. The Makos athletes also noticed that their parents were timid around water. That's when their roles reversed. The children started to look out for the grown-ups. Joseph Johnson, now 14, called out his mom, Connie Johnson, when she tried to give him a few tips about how to improve his performance. 'He was like, 'Mom, you have no idea,'' the now-55-year-old recalled. 'At first, I was offended, but he was absolutely right. I didn't know how to swim.' She signed up for lessons with Coach T. Najma Nasiruddin-Crump and her husband, Joshua Crump, signed up, too. His daughter Kaia Collins-Crump, now 14, had told them she wanted to join the Makos team the first time she saw it. But among the three of them, no one knew how to swim. Joshua Crump, 38, said he initially felt silly at the lessons, then started to get the hang of it. 'I don't swim well enough to beat any of the children in a race,' Crump said with a chuckle. Nasiruddin-Crump said she was terrified the first time she jumped into the deep end. 'It is the only moment in my life outside of birthing my children that I've been afraid of something,' the 33-year-old said. 'But once you do it, it's freedom. It's pure freedom.' Mahoganny Richardson, whose daughter Ava is on the team, volunteered to teach more Makos parents how to swim. She said the work starts outside the pool with a conversation about a person's experiences with water. She has heard stories about adults who were pushed into pools, then told to sink or swim. Black women were often told to stay out of the water to maintain hairstyles that would swell if their hair got wet. Bradlin Jacob-Simms, 47, decided to learn how to swim almost 20 years after her family survived Hurricane Katrina. She evacuated the day before the storm hit but said one of her friends survived only because that woman's brother was able to swim to find help. 'If it wasn't for him, they would have died,' Jacob-Simms said, noting that hundreds did drown. 'That's the reason why swimming is important to me. A lot of times, us as African Americans, we shy away from it. It's not really in our schools. It's not really pushed.' Makos swimmer Rocket McDonald, 13, encouraged his mom, Jamie McDonald, to get back into the water and stick with it. When she was a child, her parents had signed her up for swim lessons, but she never got the hang of it. Her dad was always leery of the water. McDonald didn't understand why until she read about a race riot at a pool not far from where her dad grew up that happened after St. Louis desegregated public pools in 1949. 'It was a full-circle moment,' McDonald said. 'It all makes sense now.' Now, at 42, McDonald is learning to swim again. Safety is always a priority for the Makos team. Coach T makes the athletes practice swimming in full clothing as a survival skill. Years ago, as a lifeguard in Kansas City, Missouri, Coach T pulled dozens of children out of recreational swimming pools who were drowning. Most of them, she said, were Black children who came to cool off but didn't know how to swim. 'I was literally jumping in daily, probably hourly, getting kids out of every section,' Goodwin said. After repeated rescues, too many to count, she decided to offer lessons. Swim lessons can be costly. The Black Swimmers Alliance aimed to fund 1,000 free swim lessons by the end of 2025. It had already funded 150 lessons in St. Louis. But when the group looked for grants, the alliance scaled back its goal to 500 lessons, out of caution about what funding would be available. It's still committed to helping Black athletes swim competitively throughout their school years and in college. Most of the time, the Makos swimmers practice in a YMCA pool that doesn't have starting blocks. Backstroke flags are held in place with fishing wire, and the assistant coach's husband, José Preciado, used his 3D printer to make red, regulation 15-meter markers for the team. Once a week, parents drive the team to a different YMCA pool that has starting blocks. That pool is about 5 degrees warmer for its senior patrons' comfort. Sometimes the young swimmers fuss about the heat, but practicing there helps them prepare for meets. Parents said White officials have frequently disqualified Makos swimmers. So some of the team parents studied the rules of the sport, and eventually four became officials to diversify the ranks and ensure all swimmers are treated fairly. Still, parents said, that hasn't stopped occasional racist comments from bystanders and other swimmers at meets. 'Some didn't think we'd make it this far, not because of who we are, but where we're from,' Goodwin has taught the Makos swimmers to recite. 'So we have to show them.' And this spring, Richardson is offering lessons for Makos parents while their children practice. 'It's not just about swimming,' Richardson said. 'It's about overcoming something that once felt impossible.' KFF Health News is a national newsroom that produces in-depth journalism about health issues and is one of the core operating programs at KFF — the independent source for health policy research, polling, and journalism.

Miami Herald
12-02-2025
- Sport
- Miami Herald
Gulliver girls' soccer rounding back into form after first playoff win in three seasons
Gulliver's girls' soccer program had long been one of the most successful in Miami-Dade County. But in recent years, the Raiders had lost their way and fallen from their lofty status. Seniors like Samantha Ehrenreich have been part of Gulliver's journey back to prominence. And on Tuesday afternoon, Ehrenreich sparked another big step on that road when she kickstarted a 3-2 comeback win over MAST Academy in a Region 4-3A quarterfinal at the Makos' home field. 'It's a younger team this year, and the younger girls have brought a new vision for the team,' said Ehrenreich, who has played for the Raiders for three seasons and is one of three seniors along with goalkeeper Ana Levy-Armesto and defender Vicky Sanz. 'Since the beginning, we've been about winning every game and that hasn't always been the case.' This is Gulliver's first winning season in girls' soccer since the 2019-2020 campaign. The Raiders (12-6-2) did not even make the regional playoffs the past two seasons, going a combined 9-22-9 over that span. They advanced to the regional semifinals for the first time since 2022 and will next travel to Davie to face NSU University School on Friday at 7 p.m. The Sharks, who advanced via a forfeit by Pine Crest, have advanced to at least the state semifinals each of the past two seasons. But it almost didn't happen had the Raiders not overcome the odds. MAST (14-4-2), which was eliminated in the regional quarterfinal round for the fourth consecutive season, notched the first two goals of the game within the first 20 minutes of play with the second coming on a defensive miscue by Levy-Armesto when a clearing kick ricocheted off Makos' Violeta Tuneus and into the Raiders' goal. Eight minutes later, Ehrenreich answered with a spectacular jump kick goal in which she kicked the ball back over her head and into the goal to cut the deficit to 2-1. With Levy-Armesto making multiple stops to keep Gulliver in it, the Raiders found their offense and scored twice in a roughly 10-minute span with goals from junior Miranda De Armas and sophomore Nora Henein to put Gulliver ahead for good. Levy-Armesto made two more big stops to preserve the lead over the final 10-plus minutes. 'The first goal always sets the mood. It's based on the reaction of the person that scored. I wanted to make sure everyone around me was in it,' Ehrenreich said. 'And I encouraged everyone to keep going and make them believe we could do it. I just threw my leg back and hoped I could make contact with the ball.' Ehrenreich said she has seen signs the Raiders could put together such resilient performances all season - something that was missing in recent years. On Tuesday, she and her teammates backed up that belief. 'It was really just about motivation,' Ehrenreich said. 'We hadn't come this far in a while and so just being everyone's motivators is such a big thing and we've instilled that into everyone on the team. Every time there was a break we told each other to keep going.' MORE SCORES ▪ Region 4-3A quarterfinal - Cardinal Gibbons 8, Monsignor Pace 0: Mia Conard scored four goals and added two assists to lead the top-seeded Chiefs (11-5-2) to the mercy rule victory in a game that ended after halftime. Caroline Findley scored three goals and Brooke Catronio had three assists. Abby Gillette had a goal and an assist. Gibbons will host Coral Springs Charter on Friday at 6 p.m. ▪ Region 4-3A quarterfinal: Coral Springs Charter 4, La Salle 1 ▪ Region 3-3A quarterfinal - North Broward Prep 7, Cape Coral Oasis 0: Jayda Palumbo scored three goals and had one assist to lead the Eagles (12-3-2), who will travel to Fort Myers next on Friday night to face Bishop Verot. Kaiden O'Neill had one goal and three assists while Isabella Cancelier had one goal and one assist. Ella Munoz and Kaylee Forcione each had one goal and Lila Brown had two assists. Zoie Brown posted her 10th shutout and had two saves. ▪ Region 4-2A quarterfinal - Palmer Trinity 2, True North 1: Brooklyn Schiffrin scored both goals for the Falcons (11-4-3) to help oust the Titans (8-6), who had advanced to state in consecutive seasons. Palmer will next travel to Boca Raton on Friday to face St. John Paul II. ▪ Region 4-2A quarterfinal - Ransom Everglades 1, Carrollton 1 (Ransom wins 5-3 PK): The Raiders (12-4-3) will host Boca Raton St. Andrews on Friday night in the regional semis. ▪ Region 4-2A quarterfinals: Boca Raton St. John Paul II 2, Miami Country Day 0; Boca Raton St. Andrews 1, Westminster Christian 0. ▪ Region 4-1A quarterfinal - Sheridan Hills Christian 5, Greater Miami Academy 2: Junior Eva Hendriks scored all five goals for the Sharks (11-4). Junior Gina Cepeda had two assists and senior Valentina Escobar had one assist. Sheridan Hills Christian will face South Florida HEAT on Friday afternoon at Tequesta Trace Park. ▪ Region 4-1A quarterfinal: South Florida HEAT 8, Highlands Christian 0. ▪ Region 4-1A quarterfinal - Westwood Christian 3, Archimedean 2: The Warriors (11-1-2) will host West Palm Beach Berean Christian on Friday afternoon in the regional semifinals.