When summer rolls around, most kids can’t wait to jump into the pool.
But James wasn’t most kids.
I met James in the summer of 1983. I was his counselor at camp.
He had no friends. No confidence.If he wasn’t talking to himself, he wasn’t talking at all.
He didn’t join many activities, and he never, ever went near the pool. On the first day of camp, his mom handed me a note.
It read, "James is terrified of the water. We don’t expect him to swim.”
So, I didn’t.
Each day during swim, which happened to be my only period off, James and I would sit outside the pool fence and watch the other kids.
That became our thing.
The following week, we decided we could see better if we sat inside the fence.
Eventually, I asked if he wanted to put on his swimsuit just so we could pretend to swim. I told him I’d pretend to be his swim instructor. He lit up.
We practiced strokes together on the deck. Then we dipped our toes in. Our fingers. We had tiny splash-fights. And little by little, James’ world started to grow.
Then one day, I asked him, “Do you want to go in the pool? I’ll hold you the whole time. Tightly. I promise.”
He looked at me like I was out of my mind.
Then he nodded.
And jumped into my arms.
I was stunned. No one expected that. Not even James.
His little body tensed when he hit the cold water, trembling.
But as we gently moved together, he began to relax… then kick… then splash… then swim.
Later, his mom told me through tears that this had changed his life.
His confidence soared. He made a few friends. And all he could talk about was going in the pool with Steve.
One jump into the water can rewire a child’s brain and reshape how they see themselves.
Sometimes all a kid needs is for someone to meet them right where they are. And be ready, arms wide open, when they take a leap forward.