| On your Mark |

The Joy of Water

By Shoshana Gross | March 25, 2025

Fraidy Jerusalem and her fellow instructors at Waterjoys teach children and adults to swim with confidence… and love it

I’M

the first of three generations to find joy in the water.

A frequent sufferer of ear infections, my mother’s pediatrician ordered her to keep her head above water. She also helplessly watched two of her friends almost drown. Swimming in camp saw her sitting on the sidelines, longing to join her friends, but paralyzed by her medical issues and deep-seated fear.

But the fear wasn’t hers alone. In the mysterious way we pass our prejudices down to the next generation, my mother knew that her mother disliked water. The depths of my grandmother’s fear stemmed from when two neighborhood boys drowned at the seashore. One was the son of Holocaust survivors, and the devastation never left her. For her, water was liquid fear.

My mother was determined to break the cycle; her children would attend swimming lessons and learn to love the water. With an ever-expanding family, spending tightly budgeted money, pushing through endless hours of traffic, she shuttled us back and forth to conquer the deep.

Session by session, we waded into the world of water.

Float

I was a shy student who lacked confidence. But in the water, I floated far ahead of my peers. School was where I endured; the pool was where I came alive.

Rising through the swimming levels, I became a licensed lifeguard in my teens. During seminary, I began the intense Water Safety Instructor (WSI) course, taught by master instructor Mrs. Raizy Yurowitz. With detailed classes on water safety, the basics of water instruction, and a curriculum, the practical element consisted of endless sessions in the pool, mastering the art of every stroke. The highly structured program wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.

“This is how swimming is supposed to feel,” I marveled.

A short stint giving swimming lessons was followed by a “real” office job. Leaving the water behind, I entered the corporate world.

Tread

My job as Oorah office manager was stimulating and enjoyable. I delegated tedium and focused on maximizing the potential of every employee.

But in June 2020, amid the throes of Covid, I was working from home and juggling far too many balls when I glanced at our neighborhood chat. A neighbor was seeking private swimming lessons for her daughter.

“I do it,” I typed furiously, and we quickly set up a time for the girl to come to our home, where I am blessed with a pool (the main criteria for a house, as far as I’m concerned!).

That night, I panicked. I hadn’t given swimming lessons in 15 years, and hours of frantically googling “how to teach swimming” were followed by visions of a last-minute cancellation.

But when the little girl showed up, and we slipped into the pool, my tension dissolved. It felt so right, and my managerial experience helped me create a safe space for her to discover what she could do. In a few lessons, my student (!) was swimming. Word spread, and I found myself giving lessons to a few other kids. It was an incredible experience.

Plunge

When it was time to renew my corporate contract, I had a decision to make. I decided to follow my secret dream of owning my own business.

The hardest thing I’ve ever done was say goodbye to my boss of 15 years. After a few shocked minutes, he said, “You can do anything you want to do.”

Over the next tumultuous months, I held on to that lifeline.

It was a complete leap of faith. I had no side income, no time to build a brand. But I plunged into creating Waterjoys, and the summer of 2021 passed in a chlorine-scented haze of students and swimming instruction. By 2022, I couldn’t keep up with the demand. Mentioning the need for a swimming instructor to a friend, she said, “My friend Gittel just called! She wants to work for someone as a swimming instructor, and thinks the job doesn’t exist!”

“It does now,” I said.

Gittel became a beloved instructor, and we rented a pool in the spring so we could teach children before the busy camp season. The following year, more instructors joined the Waterjoys family — all with amazing people skills and unique stories about how Hashgachah led them in our direction.

Glide

I’m passionate about sharing the joy of water.

Our one-on-one sessions allow us to focus on each person, helping them reach their ultimate comfort level. True water safety is the inner calm we feel after we understand how water works and personally experience it for ourselves. Many children and adults come with fear and anxiety toward water. Some refuse to even dip their feet in the pool.

We use a fun, interactive experience to build trust, and that helps make each session a safe space from the first moment. We teach each skill step-by-step, beginning with the science behind how water works. As the kids master each concept (like floating), they earn special Splash cards to be placed in a labeled box. It’s incredibly motivating, especially for the boys.

I once discussed how toys float with an adorable boy who was extremely anxious after once being pushed into the deep end.

“You also float,” I said.

He tried it, and as he bobbed to the surface, he yelled, “Morah Fraidy, what you told me is true!”

For these children (and adults), knowledge is transformative.

One common concern is a fear of putting the head underwater. We do the “head underwater” slowly, celebrating the dunking of the chin, and gradually increasing the water level up to the nose, until the entire head is submerged. We discuss how you can prevent water from going up your nose and what the best way to get water out of your eyes is. (Swiping the moisture out with your pinky finger!) Everything is a conversation and nothing is forced. Once fearful children learn to believe in themselves, their confidence soars.

In the middle of a lesson, one student asked, “When I grow up, can I work for you?”

I had no words.

Submerge

It’s never too late to learn to swim and love water.

Many of our students are women, some young, some older, for whom their fear of water causes them immense distress on a regular basis. Water trauma is a reality, but it doesn’t have to be.

These women learn to break the cycle of water-borne anxiety before passing it down to their children. In the pool, their stories spill forth.

“I took my deep-water test before I was ready.”

“I was too shy to tell my counselor that my life jacket wasn’t properly closed.”

“When I reach the other end of the pool, I’m always surprised I’ve made it alive.”

That’s how it starts.

But slowly, in a no-pressure atmosphere, they feel safe enough to relax in the water’s embrace. Watching the fear ebb, replaced by wonder, is incredible.

One grandmother traveled from New York for her private session. We usually text parents that they can watch for the last five minutes of the lesson. This lady had a good laugh when we mistakenly sent her one of those texts. Her mother, she said, was long gone.

“She’s watching from Heaven,” we told her. “And we’re sure she’s proud that you’re doing this.”

Surface

There’s no greater gift than possibilities.

“I never thought I could do it!” is a refrain we hear again and again.

It’s a privilege to share my passion, because with every laughing child, every newly confident woman, I know that we’re allowing the joy of water to flow through generations.