No, we’re not talking about basketball. These young athletes compete in the pool.

(by Angela Lindsay Hilst

photos by Greg Briley

Hassan Zouhbi is only 13 years old, but he has Olympic-sized dreams.

For the past four years, Hassan, a ninth-grader at Charlotte’s David W. Butler High School, has been a member of the Queen City Dolphins, a local minority swim team. He practices two hours a day, five days a week to compete in a sport that few African-Americans boys engage in.

“It’s nice because you stand out,” says Hassan, whose peers typically play football or basketball. “I feel special about it because I’m not doing the same thing everybody else is doing.”

Making a splash

Years before Cullen Jones made history with the U.S. men’s swim team in the 2008 summer Olympics by becoming the second African-American to win the gold, QCD co-founder and coach Rodney Sellars was already making a splash. His purpose was “to give minority swimmers a team to belong to and still feel like themselves because they look like everybody else.”

Sellars and coach Marcus Green founded the Queen City Dolphins in 2005. Then, the team had 12 swimmers. The organization now has 58 participants ages 5 to 18 years old, and about 150 swimmers have been through the program since it began. Sellars has seen many swim teams in his 19 years at the Mecklenburg County Aquatic Center; however, there have been few minority swimmers. He says he wanted to encourage participation in a sport that has attracted few in the black community.

“We wanted to give the kids somewhere to be themselves and enjoy the sport. Even though they were in the same sport as other kids, we just want them to feel at home on their team,” says Sellars, who is the recreation coordinator supervisor at MCAC.

QCD will not turn away any child with a “desire,” but most participants who join can already swim at least a little. Those who cannot are referred to MCAC for instruction before returning to the team to become competitive swimmers. QCD also will not turn away kids because of race, even though the team consists mostly of minorities.

“Our thing is if you’re white and want to swim with us, you’re the minority on our team!” Sellars says.

While Sellars and Green are the head coaches, QCD has two assistant coaches who develop the beginner and intermediate swimmers. Practice is year-round and rotates between the Double Oaks community pool in the summer and MCAC from August through April.

Breaking the cycle

Unlike many African-Americans, Sellars’ exposure to aquatics began at the age 5 when he competed in swimming, synchronized swimming and diving at the Winston-Salem Park and Recreation Department. At 14, he became a lifeguard, and by 16 he was a water safety instructor. He was a swimmer and diver at UNC-Charlotte and has taught swimming at MCAC and local schools.

Swim teams in the area can charge participants nearly $1,000 yearly, but QCD charges $360. Sellars says swimmers can also expect to spend up to $200 on a good swimsuit and pay $20 to $25 for each swim meet.

Sellars says QCD has athletes now who could qualify for swimming scholarships. That’s a goal for Hassan, who placed first in the 100-meter breaststroke at a regional competition at UNC-Chapel Hill last year.

“My goal is to be up there with Michael Phelps, but it would be nice to have a scholarship on the way,” he says.

Many other QCD swimmers have qualified for state and regional competitions, including five who have traveled to the state level. Hassan says it’s “fun” competing at swim meets and that QCD swimmers “get more attention” there.

Drowning rate higher for minority youth (SUBHED)

While Sellars says having his swimmers make it to the Olympic trials one day would be great, the most important benefit of what they are learning is “to save their lives.” According to a national research study commissioned by the USA Swimming Foundation, nine people drown each day in the U.S., and in ethnically diverse communities, the youth drowning rate is more than double the national average. Nearly six out of 10 African-American and Hispanic/Latino children are unable to swim, nearly twice as many as their Caucasian counterparts. “There’s always water to fall in, but if you wait until you fall in to learn how to swim, it’s not going to work to your advantage,” Sellars explains.

‘We call it a family sport’

Sellars feels “personal growth” is one of the most important elements to the swimmers’ success, saying, “We push the kids to learn something they haven’t learned . . . (In) a lot of sports, if you don’t beat another team, you can’t judge your success, but we’re teaching to look at their times, and let their goal be to beat their own times.”

Despite the competition, however, Queen City Dolphins is a tightly knit group.

“Everybody knows everybody on the team,” Zouhbi explains. “We encourage each other.”

Team members enjoy going to movies and barbecues together. For Sellars, parental involvement is also essential.

“We call it a family sport,” he says. “We try to convince our parents to not turn it into a drop-off sport . . . You have to be a part of it.”

Hassan says being a member of QCD has taught him to be disciplined and makes him feel proud.

“People are always surprised when I tell them I’m a swimmer,” he says.

by Constance Holloway

Sink or swim

Once upon a time, I swam four days a week.

For more than a year I’d get up before dawn, drive 20 minutes to the Mecklenburg County Aquatic Center and spend an hour or more in the pool. Considering how unpolished my swimming techniques were, I needed to stay in the pool as long as possible. So I did, and I’m glad. I’d waited way too long to take my first swim lesson. After finally learning how to float, then kick, then breathe, then stroke, I was determined to swim faster, longer and stronger.

Well, I haven’t made it to the faster/longer/stronger stage. But I can swim.

As you read in Angela Lindsay Hilst’s article, the USA Swimming Foundation commissioned a national research study that shows nine people drown each day in the U.S., and in ethnically diverse communities, the youth drowning rate is more than double the national average. Almost six out of 10 African-American and Hispanic/Latino children can’t swim, which is about twice as many as their young white counterparts.  

Just because you can swim doesn’t mean you’ll automatically escape drowning. But the odds of not drowning are certainly better for a swimmer than a nonswimmer. As I write this, the families of six teenagers in Louisiana are in mourning. All six drowned in the Red River – and all were black.

I still swim from time to time, but I’ll never be a standout. If Olympic gold medalist Cullen Jones were to catch a glimpse of me in the pool, he’d probably shake his head. Or laugh. Or both. I don’t have the strongest kick in the world. And bad shoulders (one surgically tightened, the other prone to dislocating) limit me to the most basic stroke, the crawl.

But I can swim.

So, can you swim? And parents, what about your children? Take a minute right now, click on “Contact Us” and tell me.