INDIANAPOLIS — Water seemed to be everywhere, but Kim Thomas could never get in. She grew up around Lake Michigan and heard her friends talk about going to the beach on weekends, but Thomas' grandmother never learned to swim, and neither did Thomas' mother.
“Throughout the civil rights era, oftentimes black communities didn't have access to swimming pools,” Thomas said. “That was my grandmother's childhood, my mother's childhood. My mother kept us out of the water because she knew that she wouldn't be able to help us if something happened. So that fear has been passed down through the generations.”
This was passed on to Thomas, who at age 50 had never learned to swim.
But then the U.S. Olympic Swimming Trials came to Indianapolis, where she works as vice president of diversity, equity and inclusion at OneAmerica Financial, which happens to be the trial's major sponsor.
As part of its Legacy Program, the company is working to ensure the impact of the trials lasts long after they leave the city, partnering to support learn-to-swim programs for underserved communities.
That meant Thomas going out into the community and encouraging people to sign up for “Swim IN Safety,” a statewide initiative with the goal of teaching 50,000 adults and children to swim by the end of 2024.
But one day, while discussing the trials with representatives from USA Swimming, Thomas began to feel guilty: How could he speak to the community about the importance of knowing how to swim if he couldn't even swim? CEO Scott Davison and Vice President Karin Surratt, both swim-loving people, took their nagging to a new level.
“Scott and I have been relentlessly pushing her for years about the importance of being able to swim, and the trial was just another way for us to apply pressure,” Surratt said. “We said, 'Kim, how can you lead our community engagement team? You're talking about how important it is for people to be able to swim, and you can't swim?'”
Thomas finally decided the time had come.
“I didn't want to be a hypocrite and say it was important to learn to swim if I'm scared of the water,” she says. “I always ask myself, why not? And if I don't have a good answer, I'm going to reconsider my decision not to do something.”
He began taking swimming lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays during his lunch breaks, and one-on-one lessons began. Now, as Indy swimmers race toward the Paris Olympics and as Thomas continues to promote diversity in the sport, he can proudly say he can swim, too.
“She said, 'I'm going to face my fears and I'm going to do it,' and that's commendable,” Davison said. “This story needs to be told and it's one of those stories that brings tears to your eyes because she's such an inspirational character.”
“Maybe it's best not to come back.”
Davison, a collegiate swimmer and coach, began talking to Thomas about swimming seven years ago when he started working at OneAmerica.
“And I learned that, like many of my Black colleagues that I know, she couldn't swim,” he said. “Because of a history of exclusion of Black and brown people that goes back to the 1950s, '60s and '70s, my grandmother wasn't allowed in the pool, my mother never learned to swim, everyone is afraid of the water. This is very common.”
A study by USA Swimming and the University of Memphis found that 70% of Black and Brown people don't know how to swim, compared to 31% of white people.
Drowning is the leading cause of injury and death among children ages 1 to 4, but among children ages 5 to 9, black children are 2.6 times more likely to die from drowning. Children ages 10 to 14 are 3.6 times more likely to die from drowning than white children of the same age, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
“The numbers are just staggering,” Davison said. “It's unacceptable. This event is a catalyst for us to take action on this and really put an end to our country's history of exclusion.”
According to the National Institutes of Health, formal swimming lessons reduce a child's chances of drowning by 88%. The study uncovered barriers that prevent minority groups from participating in the sport of swimming: fear (from children and their parents), parental influence, appearance, lack of role models, and access to facilities and lessons.
Thomas had faced all of these obstacles his whole life, but the summer before he started high school he ended up staying in California with his aunt and uncle, who had a swimming pool. Thomas knew swimming would be a required course his freshman year, so he wanted to at least get in the pool and face his fears.
She had never been underwater, never been anywhere where her feet couldn't touch the bottom. Needless to say, she was looking forward to swimming lessons at school and finally not being afraid of swimming. However, in a twist of fate, the school pool was closed for the entire term, and all Thomas was able to get was a grainy film of her swimming lessons.
By the time Thomas enrolled at Purdue University, she was determined to start going to the pool. Her then-boyfriend accompanied her to teach her how to swim. One day, he took her into the deep end without telling Thomas.
“Then his roommate and best friend yelled, 'Hey Kim, you're in deep water!' I panicked, I was so scared I was going to fall in and drown him and everyone around me,” she said. “A lifeguard came and said, 'I don't think you should come back.'”
And for the next 30 years, Thomas continued to drop out of swimming lessons.
“The narrative needs to change.”
Over the years, Thomas has found ways to avoid the social aspects of the pool, only getting in the water up to her neck if necessary, with some of her friends unaware that she can't swim.
“I'm as good at faking it as anybody,” she said.
But Davison wasn't going to let her get away with it any longer. From the moment she stepped foot on One America, he asked Thomas if she could swim. When she said no, he encouraged her to take lessons every month, and the next, and the next, and the next, always to his dismay when her answer was still no.
“And he said, 'Swimming will save your life. Kim, you've got to learn how to swim.' And every year, multiple times a year, he would say to me, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that,” she said. “'Why can't you swim yet? You need to learn how to swim. Why can't you swim yet? Swimming is the only sport that can save your life.'”
Whatever her excuse, Davison had a solution: He knew of a pool she could use and an instructor. Surratt, Thomas' boss, said she could take lessons during her lunch break, adding that she didn't mind taking two hours.
“This has been on your development plan ever since you got here,” Surratt told Thomas, half-jokingly, “but you've failed every year.” This year, Thomas nailed that part of his development plan.
“I love the water now. I feel so different – mind, body and soul,” Thomas said. “I spend my nights watching swimming videos and trying to improve my technique. I'm a bit of a swimming nerd.”
That's why she was so surprised when Davison surprised Thomas with a video of Karen Jones, the first Black swimmer to win four Olympic medals and hold a world record. In the video, Jones congratulated Thomas for passing his adult swimming lesson and being able to swim more than 25 yards at a time.
“It's amazing to see people of color breaking down stereotypes because that's what we need to do. We need to change the narrative,” Jones said in the video. “Swimming is for everybody. Swimming is for everybody. And Kim, swimming has become for you. Congratulations again.”
Thomas' story is just one of thousands of stories across Indiana whose lives have been changed by learning to swim, Davison said.
“My favorite part of the trials is the water safety program because this event is literally going to save lives,” he said. “It's going to save lives for generations to come.”
The athletes may have left the pool in Indy on Sunday night, but the issues the trials raised about water safety lingered.
“These trials will be historic for our community,” Surratt said, “and will live on long after our athletes have traveled to Paris.”
Follow IndyStar sports reporter Dana Benbow on X: Dana BenbowTo contact me via email, contact me at dbenbow@indystar.com
