Courtesy: Jill Kern
The world of elite sports can be intense — more intense than I ever imagined: physically, financially, and emotionally. You could say that about any sport — every parent wants their child to win. But as I went deeper into the world of competitive swimming, I wasn’t prepared for how hardcore — and sometimes cutthroat — it could be. It was not a world I had imagined being part of with my two sons, now 16 and 14.
Not the Plan
After nearly drowning as a child, I promised myself that one day my children would know how to swim — and play the piano. That was it. There was never a plan for club sports. I envisioned academics first, with a dash of music and some school plays. We don’t come from an athletic background. There’s no legacy or lineage. I nearly drowned; so did their grandmother. My husband can swim, but that’s about it. Meanwhile, many of my sons’ competitors seem to come from families with deep athletic roots — and many of them tower well over six feet tall.
So how did my sons, with no so-called “athletic gene,” earn Sectionals, Futures, and even a Winter Juniors cut between them?
Coaching matters, of course. But I believe it’s their willpower — their willingness to sacrifice, to work hard, and to give their all — and most importantly, their character. They love to swim, the friendships they’ve built and how the sport has made them strong — physically and mentally. For them, it isn’t about ego. It’s about pride in effort.
Why Try So Hard?
As a newcomer to club sports, I was surprised to learn that some swimmers view high school competition as lesser than. During one meet, someone asked my son, “Why are you trying so hard for high school?” When he told me that story, I was stunned — and so was he. It had never occurred to him not to try his hardest for something he had committed to. That response reminded me of something that happened years earlier.
That One Percent
When my son was 12 years old or so, he saw a beggar sitting on the boardwalk. He immediately asked me for money to give him. I refused. He pleaded, saying that if he had remembered his wallet, he would have given the man his own money. I told him, “But son, I don’t think this beggar will use the money for food. He might just use it for drugs.” My son continued to plead and said he would pay me back when we got home. His persistence tugged at my conscience so I finally gave in and handed a couple of dollars. He ran off to give the money to the beggar. My son came back and we continued our walk along the rest of the boardwalk silently. Then suddenly he spoke. “You know mom, you could be right. Maybe the guy will use it for drugs. But if there is a 1% chance he will use it for food, I’d like to believe in that 1% and that’s why I don’t regret giving him that money.”
Showing Up Anyway
Years later, I saw that same belief at their HS Sectional Finals. The best swimmers stood behind the blocks. Our small high school — which hadn’t been to the finals in 40 years — was competing against a powerhouse program. In one event, my son stood next to an elite swimmer, more than a year older and already committed to a Division I Ivy League school. Against the odds, he won — by milliseconds. His high school didn’t take the overall title that day. But they showed up. They fought. They proved they belonged.
Watching my sons put their heart and soul into their high school team — showing up to every meet, supporting their teammates, giving their full effort — is what makes me proud. Not medals. Not accolades. But integrity. They know the odds. They see the brand-new tech suits. They stand next to swimmers built like college athletes. And still, they step onto the blocks. I hope what they carry forward isn’t just an athletic pedigree, but something far more lasting: joy, character, and the quiet decision to give their best — even when the odds are only 1%.
ABOUT JILL KERN
Jill Kern is the mother of two competitive swimmers from New Jersey. When not ferrying my kids here and there for swim practices, competitions, school or musical events, she works in the Human Resources Department as a recruiter and office operations specialist.
