“It is definitely going to change the narrative,” Ed Accura says when asked how significant the sight of Alice Dearing entering Olympic water on August 4 will be for minority communities.
If that seems hyperbolic it is worth considering that only one in 20 black adults in England swim and some professional instructors still argue, despite no scientific proof, that bone density means they cannot float.
Dearing, a 24-year-old from Birmingham, will become Britain’s first black female Olympic swimmer when she competes in the marathon event.
Forty-one years have passed since the first male, Paul Marshall, represented GB and, understandably, she would rather be defined by what happens at Odaiba Marine Park than being a trailblazer.
But Accura, one of four founders of the Black Swimmers Association along with Dearing, believes her presence on TV screens and the shattering of a glass ceiling in a sport where stereotypes and misconceptions are entrenched can not only inspire the next generation but end up saving lives.
“It will be amazing,” Accura says. “One of the big issues we come across is role models. We don’t see people like us [swimming], so it’s not for us.
"Having Alice, a black woman, swimming at such a level will encourage people like my daughter. When she first met Alice she had finally met someone like her, with hair like her, who swims at an elite level. It’ll make such a difference.”
Sport England’s latest figures are beyond alarming. They say 95% of black adults and 80% of children do not swim, a figure marginally lower among Asian communities, while only 2% of those who participate regularly are from minorities.
According to the World Health Organisation drowning is the third leading cause of unintentional injury death worldwide, with more than 230,000 across the globe per year, and there is an increased risk for members of ethnic minorities with intrinsic links to socioeconomic status and education. Some studies say black children are three times more likely to drown.
If Dearing represents the elite environment, Accura is focused on grassroots and life saving.
There is no overnight fix to a problem spanning several generations. In the past 18 months Swim England have sought to do more but, as Accura says, they admittedly had little idea where to start before welcoming the BSA with open arms early last year.
“We found the reason why they hadn’t been able to engage with the communities was because they didn’t know how to,” he says.
The association came about from chance meetings between like-minded people. Accura had interviewed Dearing for his podcast, In The Deep End, and from there came into touch with Seren Jones, a BBC journalist, and Danielle Obe, who has developed the Nemes headscarf to protect minority ethnic hair from chlorinated water.
Following a meeting between three of them, minus Dearing, in the lobby of a hotel near Charing Cross, they decided to form the association.
“We spoke for hours about the same issues,” Accura says. “It was like we knew each other for years, so we decided to do something.”
The immediate objective is to provide a bridge between disengaged communities and the sport but the ultimate aim is not needing to exist.
In meetings with stakeholders, Accura has stressed that point but there is a long way to go when some qualified teachers believe that the bone density of black people makes it harder for them to float.
The BSA have published a three-year strategic plan in which scientific and community research will be carried out to, they hope, refute myths and encourage those reluctant to learn to get more than their feet wet.
“We hear people talk about heavy bones, even professional instructors, so we have to disprove it or find a way around it,” Accura says.
“We’d like to knock that on its head straight away. We’re working with a number of organisations including the RNLI to understand what the scientific issue is.
“Then there will be community research – talking to people. Our community is so disengaged from swimming and water safety that we need to be in the community to understand why they won’t swim, what it will take for them to learn.
"It’s gone on for generations, it’s not going to change in a year, but we’re having conversations now. We’re better placed.”
The challenge of defeating stereotypes has not been helped by a decision taken by FINA, the sport’s world governing body, to ban specially designed headwear, made by British company Soul Cap, to protect voluminous and Afro hair.
The governing body said the hats are “unsuitable”, do not fit “the natural form of the head” and to their “best knowledge the athletes competing at the international events never used, neither require … caps of such size and configuration.”
FINA’s decision has been roundly criticised and will be reviewed after the Games. And while it is only applicable to elite level, the optics of such a ruling simply exacerbates the feeling within black communities that the sport is not for them.
“From FINA’s point of view, they were making the decision based on elite swimmers,” Accura says. “In their eyes it’s not needed. It’s about sticking to the status quo.
"They are looking at the elites only. It’s almost if they are being blindsided and not thinking about the future, the effect it will have on younger generations. They haven’t thought it through.”
Accura’s personal story shows that it is never too late to learn. In 2018, at 53 years old, he decided to finally take lessons for life saving reasons, primarily out of fear that his daughter could end up in trouble and he would be unable to react.
Before that he had suffered from “bl-aquaphobia” but his first film, Blacks Can’t Swim, was born and the positive reaction left him overwhelmed.
“The film made it very easy for people to have conversations that previously weren’t being had - a white person talking about a black person being unable to swim is so sensitive, you can’t do it,” he says.
“People knew about the issue but couldn’t talk about it. The film gave people the license to be able to talk.
"Within two weeks of the trailer coming out I’d had a thousand messages, a mixture of them knowing about the issue or people who had never thought about it. It started a movement.”
A sequel was released in May, detailing two south London youths who must learn to swim with Accura playing the role of their mentor.
The directness with which it challenges stigmas and stereotypes is hard-hitting but Accura, who has also made several songs about the issue, stresses the best way to engage with young people is by making it fun rather than focusing on the fact it is a life-saving skill.
“If you tell people it’s dangerous, the first thing they will do is stay as far away as possible, but if you make it fun and exciting it’s something you want to be part of,” he adds.
Dearing promises to deliver when it comes to the latter.
