Joe Went Swimming

Joe arrived back in the hotel room saying he'd had a good swim. He hopped in the shower and came out dressed in his housecoat. There was a story that he wanted to tell me. I turned to listen and I saw his face and knew immediately that the story he had to share was important to him. I waited.

He said that when he got down to the pool the first thing he noticed was a bright red wheelchair. It was designed to be pushed and the seating had been specially fit. It was parked, waiting, off to the side of the pool down where the top of the ramp into the pool was located. In the pool was a young man of about 40 and with him was his daughter a woman with Down Sydrome, a physical disability, and a pretty significant intellectual disability. He was holding her up, helping her float, and walking around the pool. She was making happy noises and slapping the top of the water with one hand.

Joe isn't someone who jumps into a pool. He likes the ramp because it allows him to slowly adjust to the pools temperature, he finds most hotel pools cool. His trip took him by father and daughter. Joe said hello to both, the father, a little surprised that both had been addressed, introduced himself and his daughter and Joe did the same. Then, Joe began swimming. He's a lane swimmer and he found a lane, marked it with invisible lines and began to swim.

At the deep end, he stopped to catch his breath. The door opened and a small group entered, 5 adults and 3 children. The kids headed towards the pool, ready to jump in when one of the parents spotted father and daughter. A sharp cry, "Stop, get back here." The dad, with his kid, stopped and saw them all gather together and there was such pain on his face when he knew that he and his daughter were the subject of discussion. Do they want to get in the water with someone like her, someone so different. He turned and said something to his daughter and continued walking around the pool, holding her up.

After a few minutes they decided to use the pool anyways. The kids were excited and leapt in. It took a few minutes but soon everyone was in and everyone was having a good time. The child who was different was no longer noticed, no longer a subject of concern.

That a father loves his child, that a father provides amazing and exceptional support to his child, is not noteworthy to me. Parents love their kids. Parents of kids with disabilities do the same and I refuse to believe that it's 'inspirational' to love a child. What struck me, from Joe's story, was that the father, seeing the discomfort of others to his child being in the pool, didn't cede space, didn't pack up and leave, he understood that his daughter wasn't done. She was still slapping at the water and making happy noises. He stayed because she wasn't done.

Perhaps it was that the noise in the pool exploded at the entrance of the parents and children, but about 5 minutes later, she began to squirm in his arms and he leaned down, kissed her on the forehead and carried her out of the pool and wrapped her in a towel before setting her in the chair.

In the midst of prejudice he had held her up.

In the midst of discomfort he had held her up.

In the midst of prejudice he had held her up.

That dad's willingness to let his daughter's desires, not the reaction of others, determine what happens next, makes him a powerful advocate for social change. Being where you belong before people understand that the belonging belongs to you, that's an act of rebellion.

She is safe in his hands.

May she be safe for the rest of her life in the hands of others.