Our Story
Our Story
We are the children of Nicetown and the transplants of Germantown, West Philly, and Allegheny. We grew up in the lanes of Marcus Fosters, Pickett, Sayre, and Rhodes. Those pools weren’t just places to get wet; they were our year-round anchors. But over time, we watched a heartbreaking cycle take hold: a leak would lead to a "temporary" closure, which turned into a "prolonged" repair, which eventually became a permanent lock on the door.
When summer hit, the story didn't get better. We were told our outdoor neighborhood pools couldn't open because of a "lifeguard shortage" or because "no one wanted to come to the community." We saw it for what it was: a cycle of inequity and a failure of justice.
Friends of Philly Aquatics (FOPA) was born from that frustration. For years, we were the voices at the School District meetings and the faces at the budget hearings. But in 2024, we realized that "slow-walking" access was costing lives. While cities like NYC were investing $1 billion into "Let’s Swim NYC," our community was still waiting for basic repairs.
The Turning Point: "If Not Us, Then Who?"
In 2025, we took our mission to the dry land, teaching Red Cross safety courses in community rooms because we didn’t have water. After the Philadelphia Inquirer shared our story, the Philadelphia Housing Authority (PHA) reached out with a challenge: they had a pool, but no one to run it.
We tried to point them to other providers, but everyone said no. That’s when our board looked at us and asked the question that changed everything:
"If not us, then who?"
In 2026, we officially moved into pool management at the Hartranft Aquatic Education Center. It hasn't been easy. We are a grassroots team of minority women navigating the "joy and burden" of the nonprofit world—facing insurance barriers, certification hurdles, and reimbursement-based funding models that don’t always account for organizations like ours. But we aren't doing it alone. We’ve joined forces with GLEC and other providers to make sure we aren't just a monopoly, but a pipeline.
What We Discovered Beneath the Surface
When we opened for assessments this year, the data told a story our hearts already knew. We saw people "lie" on their forms, saying they could swim when they couldn't. We didn't see that as a lack of honesty; we saw it as a desperate desire for opportunity. They didn't want to be left behind again.
We saw generations of non-swimmers—parents and children showing up together, both starting from zero because the system had failed them both for decades. We met a mother who hadn't seen her child in two weeks and applied for the program just hoping they would see the email and show up so they could reconnect. We met a formerly incarcerated father who wanted to learn to swim with his teenage son, not for the money, but to reclaim the time they had lost.
Our 2026 Commitment
Because of these stories, our mission shifted instantly. We realized that year one had to be about more than just "opening a pool." It had to be about healing.
Our "Earn to Learn" Program:
Through our $1,200 paid swim-and-certification program, we offer teens (ages 15–17) much more than lifeguard skills—we offer a village. We serve as a supportive third space where youth can study during downtime, build their resumes, and learn smart scheduling around exams. Plus, with community partners under the same roof, we track report cards and attendance to ensure every teen has the academic support they need to succeed.
The Home & Water Safety Initiative:
We are paying parents to become instructors. We are turning neighbors into "Water Watchers" so the safety stays in the community even after they leave the pool.
True Public Access:
When people ask what the membership fee is, we get to see their faces light up when we say: "It’s free. It’s public. It’s yours."
As we approach the 250th anniversary of this country, we are calling for a "gift" to our communities: permanent funding for indoor public pools. We want what New York has. We want what Cheltenham is building. We want the end of generational drowning.
We are no longer just advocating for the water. We are the ones holding the keys, blowing the whistles, and making sure every Philadelphian has a lane to swim in.