Aquafit: Desegregating Summer
It’s 8:46 in the morning as toes begin to dip into the semi-heated water. An uncommon meeting of game changers gather in the lap pool of LA Fitness. Women and men of a distinguished age proudly defying an era when the Ku Klux Klan carried out lynchings for sport, and swimming in an integrated pool were as far fetched an idea as flying cars.
They’re gathering for a water aerobics class, “Aquafit,” comprised of nearly twenty-five swimmers — half of them white, and the other half, Black. The scene is diverse, not uncommon in the year 2023, but almost unheard of 60 years ago during the Civil Rights Movement, when most of these Aquafitters came of age.
On June 12, 1963, Atlanta’s 12 city pools were officially desegregated marking a new beginning for the city and its civil rights movement. Not without controversy, the last five pools designated for whites only admitted their first Black swimmers.
“Oh I remember that. I was about ten or eleven.” Charles, one of the more lively and funny members of the Monday/Wednesday Aquafit class remembers being among the first Black children to integrate Candler Park pool the summer of '63.
“I was so happy to have another pool to go to. One that was closer. It meant there were more kids I could play with.”
Before integration, Atlanta only had three public pools designated for the city’s almost 300,000 black residents.
Angela, who wades in the more shallow section of the LA Fitness pool, recalls the burdens and horrors of segregation. She remembers being forced to wait in a single-file line outside of the general store to get ice cream. Where Black children were permitted inside one-at-a-time, once all of the white children had gotten their treats.
“Oh, there were times our parents wouldn’t let us out of the house,” she shares. “On Labor Day, our parents really kept us inside. The Klan would ride around on horses and intimidate us. And if you got caught outside, they’d burn a cross in your yard, or lynch you. We never knew why.”
Angela grew up in Stone Mountain. Arguably one of the most hostile regions of the Metro Atlanta area if not the United States when it came to race relations and the horrors of the Jim Crow South.
“Oh, we saw a lot. So we didn’t go swimming. We weren’t allowed to. That’s why I stay near the wall for Aquafit. I never learned how to swim.”
But she prefers water aeraobics. A common theme among most of the Acquafitters. They want the exercise, and the water is cathardic.
“Water is my happy place,” says Lesley. A black woman who moved to Altanta after a life growing up, living, and working in Philadelphia.
“Same,” Kay adds. A white woman born and raised in Atlanta. She and Lesley have grown quite close and enjoy the time they have working out together. “The pool is way more fun than walking or getting on a treadmill.”
The water aerobics class doubles as social hour for the swimmers who seem eager to “get the party started” as Mary shouts upon seeing Trina — the Acquafit instructor — emerge from the locker rooms. Everyone shares in Mary’s excitement. They’re all overcome with the impulse to get moving, are now jogging in place to get their heart rates going as others retrieve gym-supplied water weights from two poolside bins.
“Good morning everyone!” Trina announces. Her enthusiasm met with the whoops and cheers as she sets up her large bluetooth speaker. She is dressed for her role, is outfitted in a bright pink Zumba jumpsuit accesorized with a mic’d headset and lime green arm bands.
Trina is a Black woman with infectious energy, and a countenance that seems to light a fire under Mary again (white, and gives off major hippie vibes) who repeats her call to get the party started.
“Alright whose ready to stay alive!” Trina asks this rhetorically. Queues her bluetooth speaker. Beats later, the diverse group of seniors are moving in place to The Bee Gees’, “Stayin’ Alive.”
The pool, in this moment, is a snapshot of joy. Aging bodies moving in unison, a togetherness that could not have come to friution without the desire for America to come to terms with its complicated history of racial bigotry.
This year marks the 60th anniversary of the desegregation of Atlanta public pool — the desegregation of summer. A new reality that Angela says makes her feel proud.
“Y’know, I mostly do Acquafit because of y’all,” Kay admits to Lesley and Angela after class.
“You do?” Angela and Lesley answer in unison.
“I sure do,” Kay continues, “I do it for the togetherness — for the feeling of community. I’m glad we all get to be together like this.”
