I was six years old when I first stepped into the water, not for fun, but out of fear. My younger cousin had just drowned at the age of five, and my parents, devastated and worried, enrolled me in swim lessons at our local rec center. For them, swimming was a matter of survival. For me, it became something much deeper; it became a way to heal, grow, and eventually lead. At first, the lessons were about learning to stay afloat, to navigate water safely, and to ease my parents’ minds. But somewhere between floating on my back and practicing my breaststroke, I fell in love with the water. I was captivated by the silence it offered, a kind of peace I couldn’t find anywhere else. Underwater, the world quieted. No anxiety, no distractions. Just me and the rhythm of my breath. Swimming quickly went from a skill I had to learn for survival to the joy I couldn’t live without. By seven, I was swimming competitively in a local summer league. Every race lit a fire in me, a drive to improve, push boundaries, and become stronger. Summers were defined by early morning practices, sunburns, and the unbeatable thrill of a close finish. But at eleven, that all changed. My coach moved away, and with her, the program ended. For three years, I had no team, no practices — just stolen moments in my grandmother’s pool, racing cousins pretending it was enough. But I knew something was missing. At fourteen, I had the opportunity to choose which high school to attend. My decision was simple: I chose a school that had a swim team. That choice became one of the most important decisions of my life. I spent the next four years swimming almost everyday. I wasn’t always the fastest. I didn’t always win. But I showed up every day with dedication and heart. I worked hard, supported my teammates, and embraced every challenge. By junior year, I was named team captain, a role I proudly held for my final two seasons. I even joined the first water polo team in the district in my senior year, expanding my love for aquatic sports and mentoring younger teammates along the way. Since the age of fifteen, I have also ensured my younger siblings and cousins receive proper swimming instruction. Knowing firsthand the dangers of not being water-safe, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing another loved one to something preventable. I’ve taught them the fundamentals of swimming, from floating and breathing to stroke basics, and encouraged their confidence in the water. Teaching them has not only deepened my sense of purpose but also allowed me to pass on something that once saved me. I feel like I’m protecting them while also giving them a gift they’ll carry for life The natatorium became more than just a pool; it became my sanctuary. It’s where I celebrated wins, learned from losses, and found a second family in my teammates. Being part of a swim team taught me discipline, resilience, and leadership. It taught me how to push through even when things felt impossible. And it reminded me constantly of why I started: to never take the ability to swim for granted. Swimming has shaped who I am, a determined, compassionate, and driven individual who knows the value of community. Like Cynthia Browne Vino, I’ve used my love for water as a way to connect, to grow, and to give back. Her legacy inspires me to keep moving forward, using my passion not just to better myself, but to uplift those around me.