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The first time a 5-year-old told me swimming wasn’t for him, I asked him what he meant. He shrugged. No one in his family had ever learned. It just wasn’t for people like them. And he said it in the same matter-of-fact manner as if telling me the sky was blue.

The fourth time a child told me something similar, I knew we had a problem. A few minutes later, a little girl tugged on my shirt to tell me she didn’t need to learn either. She knew how from watching TV.

As a 16-year-old water safety advocate and teen ambassador for the National Drowning Prevention Alliance, I visit preschools and elementary schools around New York City — reading stories about water safety, teaching the rules, then purposely reciting them wrong so the kids can giggle at my mistakes and correct me. To the outside, it may look like storytime. To me, it is a lesson that could save a life.

Our nation has not come close to solving the childhood drowning epidemic. Each year, drown in America. Drowning is the for children ages 1 to 4. For children ages 5 to 14, it is the second leading cause of accidental death.

There’s a reason we keep failing. We have focused almost entirely on swim lessons because the data is too good to ignore: Formal instruction reduces drowning risk by a . But swim lessons only work if children actually get them. Millions of children don’t. 

Lessons require money, transportation, pool access and a caregiver who can take them. Even when programs are free, families still must find them, navigate registration forms and overcome language barriers. As a result, many children, especially in low-income, minority neighborhoods, fall through the cracks and receive no water safety education at all. 

African-American children ages 5 to 19 drown in swimming pools at than white children, and have few or no swimming skills.

That’s where teachers come in.

Teachers don’t need a pool. They don’t need a budget or a liability waiver. And they have the one thing no existing swim policy can guarantee: a captive audience of kids, already in the room.

It’s most urgent for the youngest children. To 3-, 4-, and 5-year-olds, water is fascinating and naturally attracts them. It can also kill them, yet many don’t understand those dangers. It’s a concept adults tend to gloss over because to us, those dangers seem obvious.

A teacher can tell a preschooler never to go near water without a grown-up. A teacher can tell a kindergartner that water is dangerous even in — bathtubs, buckets, anything more than an inch. A teacher can teach small children that if they fall in, they should try to flip onto their back and float. Even knowing this could save a life.

Some educators worry that talking about water with young children will frighten them. I heard that line repeatedly when preschools rejected my request to visit the classroom. But consider this: We teach fire safety to preschoolers without frightening them. We teach them to get low and crawl. We teach street safety. We instruct them to look both ways before crossing the street. We even conduct lockdown drills with them. Water safety is no different. And when I speak to little children, I never use the word drowning. The kids still leave knowing exactly what to do.

The beauty of water safety education is that it can grow with the child. What starts as rules for little children turns into more sophisticated explanations for older children who can understand the science and consequences of water.

In elementary school, a teacher can explain that drowning doesn’t look like it does in the movies. There’s no splashing or screaming. It’s mostly silent. And if a friend is in trouble, you shouldn’t jump in after them. In water safety circles, it’s called the rule — throw something that floats, but never jump in yourself. A third or fourth grader can also understand that you never jump or dive into water without knowing how deep it is.

When children reach middle school, the lessons fit naturally into science class. A teacher can explain what a rip current is, how to identify one and what to do if you’re caught in one. They can also explain how suction works and why a broken pool drain generates enough force to hold a swimmer underwater.

In high school, water safety belongs in health class. We teach sex education. Why is water safety never mentioned? A teacher can explain why alcohol and open water are a deadly combination, how hydraulics in rivers and waterfalls can trap even the strongest swimmers, and why jumping on a dare may be the last decision they ever make.

None of this requires water. It requires a teacher. And the curriculum already exists for free from the and the .

Only one state has figured this out. In 2018, a 1-year-old boy named slipped away at a neighbor’s party and drowned in their pool. His parents turned their grief , signed in 2022, requiring water safety education in every Louisiana public school, kindergarten through 12th grade. In the three years since it passed, has followed. And now, the federal government has stepped back, too. In August 2025, the Trump administration the CDC’s drowning prevention program.

What’s clear is that classroom education can never replace swim lessons. There is no substitute for instruction in the water. But the classroom can serve as an insurance policy for the millions of children who will never get swim lessons.

Teachers don’t need to wait for a law. They can start tomorrow. If I can teach this during my lunch hour, just imagine what a real teacher could do.

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