By Farha Laskar, Sakhi Development & Communications Intern
Picture this: You’re 13, wearing an XL white t-shirt and long white men’s basketball shorts over a modest purple one-piece from Marshalls. Excited yet uncomfortable, you join the long line with your cousins and brother. When you reach the gate, the staff inspects your bags and attire but tells you that you can’t enter because you don’t have a proper bathing suit. Despite showing your purple one-piece, you’re turned away due to the basketball shorts, which they say, “lack a mesh lining.”
Embarrassed and disheartened, you walk back to your parents. Your parents, who argue with the staff, explaining that the shorts were chosen for modesty due to your family’s religious beliefs and that pool rules allowed a white shirt, so why not pants? The staff insists on a bathing suit with mesh lining and directs your parents to a nearby stand selling summer wear. After failing to find suitable trunks that align with your family’s values, your parents refuse to conform. This is a far too common story.
That experience made it difficult for me to learn a fundamental survival skill. It is the reason why I tell my friends I can’t swim, why I sit out of many group outings during the summer and miss out on key bonding time with my partner and his family at their home on the river. I am acutely aware that I do not have the water safety knowledge or the swimming skills to participate in water activities. As an adult, when I told my friends that I could not swim, they could not understand how my swim attire prevented me from learning to swim. I thought this core memory was an isolating experience to just myself and my family and turns out to be similar to many others. Hafsa Lodi, a practicing Muslim who wrote a novel about her exploration of modest swimwear, highlighting how these concerns also intersect with self-image issues. Lodi says, “Growing up as a teen, I thought I was “too covered” among my non-Muslim peers – I couldn’t help feeling insecure in my unstylish, sporty one-pieces while my friends wore feminine bikinis.” She’s talking about something that hits home for many South Asian Americans.
It’s not just Muslims but many South Asians and Indo-Caribbeans choose to wear something over their swimsuit to feel more comfortable and align with their cultural values. These ideas of modesty also extend to a group of Hasidic Jewish women who were stripped of their “Women only” pool time slot at a Williamsburg municipal pool due to complaints that it was discriminatory and went against the constitutional separation of church and state. These barriers and judgments make it hard for people from varying backgrounds to learn this important skill. We need more than just understanding; we need to make swimming environments safe and inclusive so everyone can feel comfortable and empowered to learn.
I always told my younger sister how lucky she was to be in a generation where burkinis existed. Aheda Zanetti, the Lebanese-Australian designer who introduced the burkini to the commercial market, created her line specifically for swimming and water sports using the same materials that are used in bathing suits. However, I didn’t realize that despite their design for chlorine pools and water sports, women would still be denied entry to public pools. Malikah recently reported an incident at Astoria Park in Queens, NY involving a Muslim woman and her 8-year-old son who were denied entry to the park’s public pool due to her modest swimming attire. The pool staff insisted that she purchase a bathing suit from a nearby vendor to gain entry. I was furious. How could a taxpayer-funded public pool that just underwent a multi-million dollar remodel still be denying women access based on the type of bathing suit they wear?I felt like I was 13 again, watching people who looked like me go through what I did once.
Imagine following all the rules, only to be criminalized and ostracized. This harsh reality is particularly frustrating for women facing societal pressure around attire. Women are pressured to wear bikinis and reveal their bodies, while those who choose modesty for personal or religious reasons face exclusion and ridicule. This double standard highlights society’s obsession with controlling women’s bodies, either by encouraging exposure or enforcing coverage. The dress codes, often decided by authorities like municipal officials and pool administrators, intend to maintain order and uphold social norms, but can often be influenced by biases and fears, leading to discrimination. Even with the wide range of options for burkinis, people are denied access to public pools because these rules can be influenced by biases and societal fears, particularly around cultural and religious differences. Reasons for wearing modest swimwear vary and are not always tied to religious belief.
Inclusive policies and clear and consistent training on what constitutes swimwear can make public swimming spaces accessible and equitable for all. The struggle for women’s bodily autonomy in public spaces reflects broader societal issues and underscores the need to accommodate cultural, religious, and sexual identity diversity. Honoring everyone’s right to present their bodies as they choose fosters a society where personal expression and comfort are prioritized.