After years of putting it off, Sela Jane Hopgood finally threw herself in the deep end and enrolled in swimming lessons.
There’s a Sealord commercial on television where the father takes his daughter to the pools to learn how to swim. She’s nervous, and so the father decides to cook battered fish for dinner, telling her that eating this fish will make her swim fast.
As the daughter gains confidence, it’s revealed that her dad can’t swim either.
I am that dad right now.
April 2022
My four-year-old son Viliami tells my husband and I that he wants to learn how to swim so I look up our local swimming school, Swimtastic, for lessons. While browsing through the classes for preschoolers, where there are different names to indicate the child’s swimming capabilities, there’s a thought lingering at the back of my mind that I can’t shake off.
I select tadpoles for Viliami as he’s new to lessons, nervous about the water and isn’t at the stage of independently submerging and propelling.
The mother-checklist mode kicks in and I make a list of things he needs before his first lesson. I realise Viliami has outgrown his toddler swimsuit, so new togs make the top of the list. As the list grows – goggles, swim cap, reusable swim nappy – the elephant in the room continues to stare me down.
Out of curiosity, I go back to the Swimtastic website and browse classes for adults. “Adult Learn-To Swim (LTS), designed for all swimmers over the age of 16” it reads. There are two levels on offer – adult LTS beginner and adult LTS advanced. The beginner level explains that it’s for people who have never experienced swimming before or have limited swimming ability/experience. “Sounds like me,” I think.
I tell myself I won’t have time for it, yet the lesson duration says it’s 30 minutes and the commute to and from the pool is an easy 10 minutes altogether.
“Vili, you’re all booked for your first swimming lesson this Sunday,” I say. “Yayyy” he replies.
Seeing his excitement reminds me that when I gave birth to him, I told myself I would learn to swim for our family’s safety. Yet every year I’ve put it off.
I’m anxious and afraid of the water. I’m embarrassed at the thought of being in a class with teenagers. I convince myself that I don’t need to learn how to swim as I have no intention of swimming in the pools or at the beach; that I am content being a spectator… until my husband asks me what will happen if a child of ours is drowning and I’m the only adult present?
I enrol in the beginner class, with my first lesson the following Wednesday night.
Full disclosure – I’m a tall, voluptuous, brown woman and I’m self-conscious with my body and how others will look at it, especially when wearing a one-piece swimsuit. This is also partly because I grew up in a culturally conservative culture, where we are taught to cover up and not wear shorts around our brothers. The inner thoughts I have to battle through leading up to Wednesday are draining, but I only have to look at my son to remind me of the bigger picture.
April 6, 2022
My class starts at 6.45pm, but my husband and I arrive early to get a good parking spot, allow myself time to get changed and to not be in a rush. I’m feeling nervous as it is, I don’t want time pressure to add to that. My husband knew how anxious I’d be and wanted to come support.
I walk over to the lane my class is going to be in. Three other adults have already hopped into the pool, waiting for our teacher Tess. I also notice that the lane is shallow. I sit on the edge of the pool, ready to jump into what feel like a deep ocean. Being 180cm tall, the water comes up to my thighs when I stand up.
“OK, this isn’t too bad, Sela,” I try to reassure myself.
I walk over to the instructor. “I’m Sela, it’s my first lesson,” I say to Tess as she takes down the attendance of the swimmers on her waterproof clipboard. “Welcome,” she responds. “How confident are you in the water?”
“Zero confidence. I’ve never had swimming lessons before and I don’t know how to float,” I tell her honestly.
Immediately she senses my nervousness, and we start chatting away about how these lessons will help with making me not scared of the water. She gets me to submerge my head underwater and blow bubbles. I immediately freeze like a deer in headlights. Thoughts start racing through my head – will it hurt if I put my head underwater? How do you blow bubbles? Will I drown? I ask Tess, “how exactly do I do that?” realising seconds later that her instructions were straightforward and that my nerves were taking over my thought process.
I close my eyes tightly and slowly put my head down and quickly blow bubbles for two seconds before my head bobbles up to the surface out of fear. “Wait, that wasn’t too bad?” I think. “Let me do that again.” And so I do, each attempt lasting a few seconds longer than the last. I close my eyes again and confidently submerge myself until Tess stops me midway. “Try with your eyes open, Sela.”
“Wait, you can open your eyes underwater?” I ask. “Yeah, definitely” she reassures me, “but maybe next time you can bring goggles to make it easier.”
I bravely trust her suggestion to keep my eyes open and as I submerge and marvel at being underwater, I blow my bubbles in amazement. “I’m actually doing it,” I say to myself in my head. For many years, I didn’t believe it was possible to have your eyes open underwater. When I would see characters in movies do so, I assumed it was some CGI effect that was placed on them to open their eyes underwater.
For the whole 30 minutes I practised ducking underwater, eyes open, blowing bubbles, and walking up and down the shallow swimming lane. I come out of that lesson feeling confident that I can actually do – one swim at a time.
Flashback to March, 2021
After the summer season, the Surf Life Saving New Zealand’s Beach and Coastal Safety Report comes out and on most occasions Pasifika people are over-represented in the drowning figures. At work I’m assigned to write about the report. It’s confronting as I don’t know how to swim, and it’s a good reminder of why I should learn.
I interview Sāmoan lifeguard John Tuia and we exchange stories about why a huge number of our people are enrolling into swimming lessons and the barriers we face day-to-day that hinder the opportunity to learn water safety.
Tuia tells me that for many Pacific families, swimming lessons are not a priority because many parents and grandparents from the islands would swim in shallow water in the Pacific. He says the idea of lessons for water safety isn’t common in the islands.
This rings true for my upbringing. I come from a family of seven, where my dad was the sole income earner and my mum stayed home to look after us all. Trying to afford weekly swimming lessons for seven children was never a consideration because of all the other weekly expenses. Also, my mother would tell us that she learned how to “swim” on her own when she would go with her dad fishing and living close to the water.
Growing up, we lived a 10-minute drive to the nearest aquatic centre and a 30-minute drive to the nearest beach. Going swimming was not something I got to experience as a kid, so in all honesty, I didn’t think I was missing out on much with lessons.
April 13, 2022
I approach my swimming lessons with the mentality that I will make sure I am confident in each step before moving on to the next, so for the first 15 minutes of this lesson I walk back and forth in the lane with my head submerged, blowing bubbles. This time with goggles.
Life-changing.
It has taken me 30 years to experience life underwater, let me have my moment.
Tess sees me having so much fun and gives me a kickboard to help me float while I continue to blow bubbles. I hesitate and slowly take the board from her, while watching the other swimmers in my class. After studying them for a minute, I imitate them, realising immediately how easy it is.
April 27, 2022
Remembering how much fun I had in the last lesson, I excitedly grab a kickboard and spend the whole lesson with my arms stretched out with the board, head beneath the water blowing bubbles and feet kicking away.
Even though I physically am able to complete this step easily, what I really want to do is build my confidence in the water.
This is the first lesson where Viliami has joined my husband in supporting me in swimming. Funnily enough after doing one lap, Viliami walks over to me and when I think he would be amazed to see his mum swimming, he says, “You’re not swimming deep enough, Mum” and walks away unimpressed. I chuckle as I go back to my lesson.
May 4, 2022
When I started my lessons, there was another mother in the same boat as me. I notice tonight that she is freestyling without a kickboard, lasting three strokes before stopping. I’m impressed.
I also know that I’m not ready to part with my kickboard and so I remind myself that it’s not a race to learn the fastest and I carry on repeating the same motions as I did last week. Tess approaches me, noticing the massive shift in confidence I have being in the water. She challenges me to try bringing one hand at a time to my shoulder, imitating the motions of a freestyle.
“That means letting go of the kickboard for a moment,” I say. “Yes, Sela,” Tess says.
For once I’m not suddenly nervous about the new step I’m about to take. “Go Sela, go!” Tess exclaims, as I make my way down the lane, letting go of the board, one hand at a time.
May 18, 2022
I missed out last week’s lesson, so I’m slightly worried, wondering if I’ll struggle getting back into it.
“It’s like you were never away,” Tess reassures me as she watches me confidently pace back and forth, switching hands on the kickboard. I stay on this step throughout the whole lesson. Viliami cheers me on: “Go mummy!”
After the lesson, Viliami shares that I have the same kickboard as he does in his class. I say that I’m learning to swim just like him. “Wow Mum, that’s great because we don’t want the sharks to eat you,” he says.
May 25, 2022
Tess is away tonight so we have two instructors helping us out as the class has doubled in size since last week. I have this game plan mapped out in my head that I’m going to do more kickboard hand switching to build trust in my arms to one day freestyle. Instead, the instructors want to teach us something different – swimming on our back.
I watch the instructor demonstrate it with the kickboard and I give it a try. “Wow, I’ve never appreciated the lighting in this building,” I think as I kick my feet vigorously, push my tummy up and hold onto my board.
June 1, 2022
Tess has returned after being away sick and she checks in with me asking what I’d like to try out tonight.
“Rotating up to the surface to breathe while swimming, please” I say. Tess shows me how it’s done and then breaks it down for me, emphasising that my head should turn and lie across my outstretched arm.
However, the next few minutes I struggle. I swim a few metres and then turn and lose my balance or lift my head rather than rotate. I watch the other swimmers to try and mimic their movements, but I continue to lose momentum.
July 6, 2022
In the past month, I’ve managed to swim and rotate to catch a breath and then continue on. I’m now able to part ways with my beloved kickboard and am given two water toys to hold, to help me shape my hands for when I do each stroke.
After 20 minutes of practising with my new toys, I decide to give freestyling a go without any floating devices to help.
I kick off and start swimming, making it halfway down the lane before stopping. I manage to swim more than 10 metres without any help. I’m ecstatic! I continue on for the next 10 minutes.
August 2022
My family and I have relocated to New Plymouth temporarily for my husband’s work, which means Viliami and I have to pause our swimming lessons in Auckland. I look into local swimming classes in the coastal city and find an academy for children that’s a three-minute drive from the house we’re staying in. I enrol Viliami immediately.
Part of the enrolment process is to book in a 30-minute New Swimmer Assessment with an instructor to work out what level the child would be best suited for, ranging from beginners to the more advanced.
Viliami’s session is on August 18, and I make plans that once Viliami is sorted with his lessons, I’ll look into my own.
September 2022
It’s the end of September and Viliami has had six lessons so far in his new swim academy. His confidence levels have massively improved since April where he would tell me, “I’m not sure about this, mummy.”
Now he walks ahead of me to his lane, waves goodbye and is able to submerge, kick, float without fear.
We have made trips to the local pools during the weekend for Viliami to continue building his friendship with the water and I, too, have joined in swimming in the pool.
October 2022
Two months fly by quickly for us here in New Plymouth and I realise I’ve put off finding swimming lessons for myself far too long.
With everything going on, moving cities, adapting to new work environments and travelling to the other side of the world earlier in the month, I decide to hold off on lessons until we return to Auckland in a couple of months.
On the last weekend of October, we head to Todd Energy Aquatic Centre.
While Viliami is splashing with dad in the shallow part of the indoor wave pool, I grab a kickboard and go kicking around the deeper end. It feels so good to be back in the water, moving peacefully.
Suddenly the wave motions start to get vigorous and by this stage I’m so far in the deep part that I can’t touch the ground. I hesitate for a second before calmly refocusing on my arm strokes and kicking motions to get me back to the shallow end. I know the Sela from six months ago would have panicked immediately.
I submerge my head, blowing bubbles, holding the kickboard in front, arms outstretched and kicking through the waves. Every time the wave pushes me, I feel a bit nervous as to whether I’d need help getting out, but I kick on. The closest safe point for me is the wall of the pool, so I make a beeline for it.
I reach the tiled wall and grab the edge of the pool quickly before a wave catches me. I’m breathing heavily at this point, shocked at what has just happened and then amazed that I was able to get myself out of a situation that I would’ve struggled in not long ago.
November 2022
With summer around the corner, I’m looking forward to heading to the beach and this time not just as a spectator. What I’m more excited about is being able to confidently go down a water slide with my son and splash with him in the pools.
I’m proud of what I’ve achieved so far and already have a goal for 2023: To move out of the shallow lane.
This is Public Interest Journalism funded through NZ On Air.