VOL 120, ISSUE 16 - March 9th, 2023

10
THURSDAY
MAR 9,
2023
AN ODE TO GIRLHOOD
SPORTS OPINION
11
OPINION
OLIVER RIVER SA-
TALICH is a first-year
environmental studies
major.
I am not a woman, but girlhood lives in me
— ribbons of femininity were woven through
me as a child and taught me who I am.
For me, girlhood is synonymous with
childhood because it is the only chapter of my
life in which I was a girl. I was raised with the
expectation that I would become a woman, and
even though I didn’t, the lessons I learned from
girlhood are still embedded into my life.
My girlhood was uninhibited, wild, and
free. I hadn’t yet internalized the world’s misogyny,
and I wasn’t bound to the expectations of
being a “proper” girl — not that I ever tried to
be proper. To me, girlhood was raising butterflies,
swinging in rhythm with your best friend,
and making “potions” out of twigs and leaves.
When I was a girl, with dirty blonde hair
and a fear of monkey bars, I was unafraid of acting
strange. I made weird jokes and read “Warrior
Cats” and pretended my friends and I had
fairy wings. We jumped off bark chip piles that seemed as tall as mountains
— we could fly. I dyed my hair for the first time at eight years old, and have
almost always had color in it since. When I was little, I never cared what
clothes or shoes I wore or what section they came from, just that they fit. The
things that made me weird brought me joy, regardless of how people looked
at me.
I know now, after a lot of trial and error, that I’m nonbinary, an identity
under the transgender umbrella — I use they/them and he/him pronouns.
For years after coming out, I dressed as masculine as possible to try and
correct the gender dysphoria I was experiencing. Every time someone used
my birth name or used she/her pronouns to refer to me, it felt like my lungs
were collapsing.
I was 12 years old when I cut my hair, bought new clothes, and left my
girlhood behind. But she followed me, dancing in my shadow, singing in my
laughter. I shunned her at first, desperate to learn who I truly was. I thought
that acknowledging my girlhood would make people think I was still a girl,
so I needed to separate myself from her in order to get to know myself better.
When I was almost 16, the world shut down for COVID-19 and I spent
my time at home, where there was no society to act out gender for. I stopped
cutting my hair, and over two years it grew to the longest it had been since I
was 12. I liked it. It reminded me not of the discomfort that I had previously
associated with my girlhood, but the freedom of expression and delicateness
of femininity. French braiding my hair for the first time since middle school
was like coming home, back to the kitchen table where my mom taught me
how to braid.
Now, at 18, I am confident enough in myself that I can look back at my
girlhood and acknowledge what she taught me. The wonder that allowed
my imagination to roam free still lingers. My passion for learning has stuck
around since the days of teaching myself cursive. I play pretend on the weekends
with my friends at our virtual Dungeons & Dragons sessions.
Girlhood is about experiencing the simple joys life has to offer and being
your unfiltered self. Although things are more complicated now, stripping life
back to the wonder and dreams of my youth remains a staple of my self-discovery
and growth.
I am exceedingly privileged in the scope of trans people’s experiences,
being that I’m white, have a supportive family, and live in a state where my
rights are protected, but I am scared of what’s to come. Conservative politics
are gaining traction across the country, and are calling for what one conservative
news host called the “preposterous ideology” of “transgenderism” to
be “eradicated.”
The girl I used to be never backed down from a challenge, and neither
will I. She taught me to fight, to be loud, to be bizarre.
I gained wonder and determination from my girlhood — what did you
learn from yours?
GRAPHIC BY MADI REYES/GRAPHICS CENTER
COMPASSION IN COACHING COUNTS
The “Zen Master,” Phil Jackson, at work. PHOTO COURTESY OF WIKIMEDIA COMMONS.
SOPHIA MCCRACKIN
Staff Writer
Take some Advil, keep your head down, keep playing, and most importantly,
win. For thousands of athletes, coaches preaching the gospel of
victory over all else has pushed them to compete on fractured bones, practice
through sickness, and train in the aftermath of significant trauma. For many,
losing simply isn’t an option.
“Old fashioned” coaching tactics, including blaming, belittling, and undermining
athletes have been the default mindset in sports for a long time,
but athletes have begun speaking out. The Journal of Clinical Sport Psychology
reported that such coaching tactics, while common, “may lead to negative
consequences for athletes, such as high levels of anxiety and depression.”
As athletes like Simone Biles and Naomi Osaka open the discussion
about the mental toll that sports take, the role of a coach in an athlete’s
mental health has risen to the surface. A 2021 NCAA survey found that just
53% of college athletes say their coaches take their mental health concerns
seriously. Similarly, 22% of female athletes and 15% of male athletes listed
their relationship with their coach as a major factor negatively affecting their
mental health.
Here at USF, coaching scandals have plagued the athletics department.
In March 2022, the San Francisco Chronicle published an article on the filing
of a class action lawsuit against two USF baseball coaches, who were later
fired. That lawsuit, originally filed by three anonymous players, has grown to
include 12 current and former USF baseball players. The following summer,
another lawsuit concerning abusive coaching came to light, this time filed
against USF women’s basketball coach Molly Goodenbour. USF isn’t alone
either. In January, St. Mary’s College fired their winningest women’s basketball
coach of all time after an internal investigation.
These lawsuits and whistleblowing point to the change in coaching culture
that is needed across the country.
Coaching requires awareness of athletes as whole people, beyond athletics.
To protect athletes, player-coach relationships need to include positive reinforcement,
healthy boundaries of communication outside of practice, and
space for athletes to grow from their mistakes.
Phil Jackson, the most successful coach in NBA history, and an inductee
into the NBA Hall of Fame as a player, had a famously unique approach to
cooling the adrenaline and ego fueled culture of a professional sports team.
Jackson worked his entire coaching career to fuse mindfulness and meditation
into the routines of all his players. Jackson saw the big picture, the way that
life and basketball intertwined for his players, and he strove to make them
better in both regards. Between asking his players to read Herman Hesse’s
“Siddhartha” and teaching them to meditate, Jackson earned the nickname
the “Zen Master.” The unconventionality in Jackson’s coaching has changed
not just the world of basketball, but the world of sports. His contributions
have made Jackson widely regarded as the greatest coach of all time.
Coaches should have an ethical responsibility to care for their players
and not abuse the unique power they have over the minds and bodies of their
team. Tough love has a time and a place, and the best coaches should be able
to read their players and know when punishment is not helping them grow.
Dr. Laura Miele, an expert in sports psychology and coaching consulting
wrote in Psychology Today that “When an athlete is in an environment
where they can take risks or make an error without being reprimanded, it
helps them grow. Athletes learn by their mistakes, just as coaches learn by
their mistakes” With a conscientious approach to coaching, a 2021 study
found that “athletes who feel valued and understood by others (e.g., elements
of the team) performed better and presented higher levels of psychological
well-being, and lower levels of perceived stress.”
Sports are meant to push the limits of physical exertion and mental
toughness. However, when coaches do not respect their players' well-being,
players may make unnecessary and dangerous sacrifices to their health that
no game is worth. Coaches who value their players more than they value the
game are far too scarce. As we look to the future of sports, we ought to be
looking for coaches with compassion, as well as impressive drive and experience.
SPORTS