Personal Narrative: Swimming Pool Pink

“Get up now,” My mom yelled down the hallway. “Hurry or you’ll be late!” My brother and I dreaded waking up early to swim, but we had chosen to commit. Even though I’ve competed every year since first grade, I still struggled. That summer swimming taught me to have stamina, the ability to not quit even though it was hard.

“ LET ME GO, CHRISTOPHER. MOM DAD!!” Those were my exact words when they caught me…

When I was five I joined a swim team, District of Columbia Parks and Recreation (DCPR). At that time every swimmer was Black which was an anomaly even for the chocolate city. Diversity eventually came about three years later when an Asian and a Croasian swimmer joined the team. However, fact that the team was for all intensive purposes made up of Black swimmers is what made this team so special. Swimming is a predominantly white sport. It is a rare to see 95 plus member team of Black children. Of the hundreds of swim teams in our region, only two were made up of Back swimmers. As Black swimmers, we come in all genders, ages, and sizes, but the one thing we collectively hold in common is the color of our skin. We do not look nor could we begin to replicate, like the

“Mom some mean girl ripping my homework, pouring water on me and pulled my hair to make my nose bleed!” I said

When I was five I joined a swim team, District of Columbia Parks and Recreation (DCPR). At the time every swimmer was Black, which was an anomaly even in the chocolate city. For all intensive purposes this made the team special, because swimming is a predominantly white sport. It was and is a rarity to see 95 plus Black children swimming. Of the hundreds of swim teams in our region, only two were made up of Black swimmers. As Black swimmers, we come in all genders, ages, and sizes, but the one thing we collectively hold in common is the color of our skin. We do not look nor could we begin to replicate the stereotypical swimmer, the hipless, silky haired, bird-liked framed white males and females that are iconic in the sport. It is simple to

When I was five I joined a swim team, District of Columbia Parks and Recreation (DCPR). At that time every swimmer was Black which was an anomaly even in the chocolate city. For all intensive purposes this made up of the team so special. Swimming is a predominantly white sport. It is a rarity to see the 95 plus member team of Black children. Of the hundreds of swim teams in our region, only two were made up of Back swimmers. As Black swimmers, we come in all genders, ages, and sizes, but the one thing we collectively hold in common is the color of our skin. We do not look nor could we begin to replicate, like the stereotypical swimmer, the hipless, silky haired, bird-liked framed white maleness and females that are iconic in the sport. With

and brush my long brunette hair. I put some light makeup on and throw a pair of skinny jeans with a blue t-shirt.

There is a quote by Henry Ford, “Coming together is a beginning, keeping together is a process, working together is a success”. As a newcomer athlete on the Aquahawgs Swim Club, I was very cautious and weary of my behavior on the first day. Show up, do the practice, keep quiet, and go home. This mindset got me through the first 3 months and were by far the worst months of my entire athletic career. I was isolated, forced to create my own motivation and be my own critic. I hated the sport. For some reason that I still wonder about, I stayed, but enthusiasm was not present. I truly believed that I was a liability to the team because of my lack of performance in meets. That was truly my dark time. My saving light came in the form of 4, awkward,

Memorial pool smell the chlorine lots of yelling. Life guards lots of steam lots of heat. I smell the chlorine right when I enter the. Memorial pool and feel the heat and see the steam. As I get out of the locker room I can already hear the life guards yell.

When I opened the door, I heard sprinting and caught a glimpse of my mother rushing back to the couch. Her face was twisted into an unusual expression.

When she walks out she gives an annoyed sigh and gestures to her body. The dress is see-through, I can clearly see her Bra. "Okay," I start. "I can see how that would be a problem." I leave and go into my room. I open my closet and look for a jacket for her to wear. Once I find one I return to the living room and hand it to her. "Thanks." She says as she puts it on.

I was left speechless. I have never gotten a yellow card before in my life. This means that my parents will get notified. I was very mad. The shock of her words left me in place.

So, I have been subscribed to several subscription boxes over the last 4 years or so, some that I have really loved and some that I really didn't. I had mostly kept my boxes to makeup, pet stuff and nerdy stuff because I knew that any of those "style" boxes would just be for smaller sizes, whereas I am a bit more pluscious and need a larger size. Just a couple months ago, I saw an ad on Facebook for one called Dia https://www.dia.co/ that was supposed to be the plus-size version of the "most popular" styling box out there (https://www.stitchfix.com/ - whose website looks a lot like the Dia website, but is for sizes S-XL.) It was only $20 for a "styling fee" each month, and they take that amount out of whatever you decide to purchase from your

Disappearing pink walls is always the first thing that comes to mind when I think of my childhood. Why were there holes in the wall, what happened, where did the drywall go? These were some of the many questions visiting family members would ask, but to the variety of questions, there was only one answer. It was a small chubby child with overly tight braids. You see, I had teeth of steel that were able to puncture the wall. These would come in handy when I wanted a quick light snack. That “light” snack, of course, being dry wall. At that time, I, the youngest one, was the odd one but as more siblings arrived, I turned out to be one of the” normal” ones.

I fall to the ground laughing. I laugh so hard that my stomach starts to hurt. People just stare at me, but I don't really care.