It makes sense that the majority of discussions about TikTok and children have been negative. For the past few years, parents have been waiting for the next ridiculous dare to appear in middle school group chats, the next video of someone strangling themselves for a brief moment of power. Thus, writing this feels almost unnatural. However, a tiny, strangely wholesome area of TikTok has been emerging around the swimming pool amid the chaos of viral trends. Additionally, it’s possible that this is one of the few situations in which parents could lean in rather than take the phone away.
You’ll notice it if you stroll by any community pool in late spring. A child arranging a phone on a lounger, leaning it against a folded towel, and running toward the deep end to try a complex dive that their cousin demonstrated to them the previous week. It’s unlikely that the video will receive more than fifty views. However, the child was able to swim. repeatedly. for an hour. swim instructors I’ve had casual conversations with over the years seem to believe that anything that encourages kids to get back in the water merits at least a second look, particularly in light of the pandemic that destroyed swim lessons throughout much of the nation.
| Topic | Details |
|---|---|
| Subject | Viral swimming challenges on TikTok |
| Platform of Origin | TikTok (1B+ monthly active users) |
| Target Demographic | Children, teens, families |
| Primary Concern | Balancing screen-time trends with physical activity and water safety |
| Recommended Authority | American Red Cross — Water Safety Resources |
| Reference Link | https://www.redcross.org/get-help/how-to-prepare-for-emergencies/types-of-emergencies/water-safety.html |
| Article Focus | Swimming-based TikTok trends with genuine fitness, skill, or family-bonding value |
Consider the underwater handstand challenge, which reappears under slightly different names every summer. The idea is almost absurdly straightforward. Put your hands on the pool floor, raise your legs, and maintain the pose long enough for someone to record it. That’s the entire situation. However, for decades, pediatric drowning experts have been pleading with parents to teach them breath control, body awareness, and a type of calm panic-management. Unbeknownst to them, children practicing for a TikTok are developing precisely the abilities that the Red Cross has been advocating since the 1970s.
Then there’s the lap-counting craze, which surged alongside the fitness-tracking frenzy last summer. Over the course of a week or even a month, teenagers post split-screen videos of themselves swimming 100 laps, with the song looping more quickly as the count increases. It’s not glitzy. The form is frequently worse, and the lighting is typically appalling. However, it would have seemed like a parenting dream ten years ago to witness a fifteen-year-old choose freestyle over scrolling on a daily basis. Suburban swim clubs have begun subtly promoting it, portraying weekly mileage logs as their own scaled-down version of the phenomenon.
Another trend worth mentioning is the “treading water for the song” approach. While a friend records from the deck, participants tread water in the deep end for the entire duration of a selected track, which is typically two to four minutes. It appears ridiculous. It’s absurd. Swim instructors dedicate entire lessons to it because it’s one of the most practical survival skills a child can acquire. It feels like an unintentional victory that children are now viewing it as a little badge of honor rather than a tedious exercise.
Additionally, synchronized cousin routines have become popular, especially among kids who are a little younger. In the shallow end, two or three siblings choreograph a thirty-second sequence that is typically awkward but occasionally endearing, then post the outcome. It’s the kind of summer afternoon that used to occur without a camera but now seems to require one, and it has a subtle nostalgic quality. With the addition of a tripod, it’s difficult to ignore how much this resembles the classic backyard pool games of the 1990s.
Even the dive-form challenge, which has been making the rounds among competitive swimmers, has found its way into the feeds of recreational swimmers. Children try textbook racing dives, use the editing app to slow them down, and then evaluate their own entry angle. Eleven-year-olds are now watching their own dives frame by frame on a phone, despite coaches having spent half a practice trying to get them to care about streamline position. That type of self-directed feedback loop wasn’t really available before, regardless of what else can be said about the platform.
All of this does not imply that TikTok is now a wellness app. The platform’s enforcement record has been patchy at best, and the risky patterns that parents and child safety advocates have documented are still very real. However, children are drawn to water, repetition, and the kind of physical confidence that doesn’t come from a screen by the same algorithm that highlights its worst aspects. It’s still unclear if this will survive the season or be overshadowed by the next round of absurdity. However, for the time being, a parent may be able to tolerate “TikTok made me do it” in the swimming pool.
i) https://www.mother.ly/news/viral-trending/swim-coach-safety-tiktok/
ii) https://gabb.com/blog/tiktok-trends/
iii) https://www.stlouischildrens.org/health-resources/pulse/talking-to-kids-about-tiktok-and-viral-challenges
iv) https://www.adelaidenow.com.au/lifestyle/tiktok-trends-experts-warn-of-dangerous-trends-you-dont-want-your-kids-to-do/news-story/8d5cecd11e8e253606a6b2b4b841ab8a