I was glancing over summer picture books at the Orono Public Library when I found two that sent shivers down my spine. They were both about swimming.
"PLUNGE!
under
under
under
Bubbles...UP
mouth bubbles
nose bubbles
ear bubbles
rear bubbles."
Jacqueline Davis's Bubbles...up! portrays the joy of a child at a communitypool narrated through playful, poetic bursts of words. Everychild surfs like a porpoise, zooms like a car, engages in games with friends, is frustrated when a passing thunderstorm means everyone out of the pool, and is elated when the all clear sounds and she can return to the watery world.
Eloquent readers will find Bubbles...up! to be a much requested read aloud.
Jack Wong's When You Can Swim is a little more sophisticated. Instead of a pool its action takes place in natural bodies of water. Each spread features a child and adult and expounds on something you can enjoy when you can swim: floating and gazing up at the sky, exploring underwater landscapes, getting to the island where the blueberries are the sweetest...
There's also an added dimension to the book. Many adults have fears about swimming. Wong did not swim as a child. His mother, growing up in China, was kept away from waters by parents fearing she would drown and passed her fear on to her son who took the plunge and learned to love swimming as an adult.
"I decided to make a book representing the freedom to discover swimming because representation is power: We can use it to depict the world we are striving for, before that world is a reality for everyone. By using differently colored characters--as well as those representing different genders, ages, sizes, and abilities--all enjoying the pleasures of swimming in nature, I wished to say to anyone who has ever been made to feel that swimming is not for them: Yes, this belongs to you, too."
On a purrrsonal note, I can't remember a time before I could swim. Growing up within walking distance of the Atlantic Ocean it was a survival skill. Beaches, pools, rivers, streams--wherever I could I'd swim. During my undergraduate college's wilderness orientation I spent three idyllic days skinny dipping in a stream in the White Mountains. After the stroke it took me nearly two years to find an accessible body of water--a neighbor's pool. At first I kept sinking like a rock. It felt like a disconnect between my brain and my muscles. But gradually the disconnect lessened and my muscles came to life. By the time I left the pool I was capable of an effective, if unelegant, dog paddle and back stroke. The feel of my body cutting through the water, the sun on my back, and my muscles regaining their ability was absolutely intoxicating.
A great big shout out to the neighbor who gave me the chance to regain the joy of swimming.
Jules Hathaway
