Last month our girls tennis team had a workout day in the park with a guest trainer. One student showed up in a foul, awful mood. She was as grumpy as a grizzly bear and when I tried ignoring her mood to talk about other, tennis related things, she wasn't giving me any sign of cheering up. So I took a guess and asked about what I assumed the problem was. This opened a floodgate of complaining. Girlfriend had a LOT to get off of her chest! The root of her problem, which she couldn't articulate, is the adults in her life aren’t listening to her.
I've seen how performance-stress takes a toll on these girls, no matter who is or isn’t listening to them. And I hate watching them worry so much. The pressure on teenage girls to over-achieve is so obviously ridiculous from an outside perspective. They need to be children and try things they think they like now while it really doesn’t matter. But for a parent, these status quo expectations seem reasonable, and letting your daughter decide for themselves what they want to study or what they want to do with their time is too hard for most of us to do. So we weigh in and, as a result, we tend to encourage them to make the choices we want them to make.
When it's your child, each grade, extra-curricular activity, and college application feels monumentally important. But even with only two years of experience working with other people's children, I'm seeing that, giving teenagers autonomy and space to screw up may be more important than the letters on their report card or the school listed on a resume that may never be read. The stakes are not as high as parents think they are.
After listening to this beautiful soul grasp at reasons why she didn't want to do the workout today (because her friends aren't here, and she doesn't have the right shoes, and she's tired, and just doesn't feel very well), I said, "Alright. I'm not going to make you do something you really don't want to do. So what do you want to do instead? Because you can't leave since you are technically in class."
Worrying her tooth with her tongue, she thought for a minute and then said "Homework, I guess. But I'm still worried about getting in trouble with [our head coach] because he said something about telling people's parents if they weren't participating."
"Well," I told her, "I'm the coach here today and I'm not going to tell anyone what you do. It's between me and you. Whatever we decide."
At this point her face started turning as she realized I was serious. She wasn't smiling exactly. But there was a smirk, a look of pleasant incredulity.
I reiterated my point because other athletes were starting to show up and I wanted them to hear me say this. "If you really don't want to do the workout, I'm not going to make you do the workout because if you are miserable, you'll make the people around you miserable, too. That's no good for anyone! I don't want to be miserable. I like being here!"
She nodded slowly. I could see she was thrilled to have an option, and maybe she was excited that I had actually listened to her and believed her. Who knows? Maybe she felt trapped and I offered her an escape route she didn't think could exist.
We said Okay? Okay. and then moved on to other distractions.
As it turned out, she chose to do the workout. I had a feeling she would. I know she likes to be with her teammates, and she loves to push herself. She did just that and we never said anything more about it.
It was a beautiful day. 20+ teenage girls spread out their yoga mats and towels under two huge trees and did some stretches and cardio to some fun music. I worked on plans for our practices and watched over them from afar. They laughed a lot because they were happy to be together and probably because they were a little embarrassed. Everything is embarrassing when you are a teenager. Laughing is the socially acceptable response to that feeling
At one point a young, adult male of questionable intent and ugly tattoo choices rode up on his bicycle. It's a public park next to the high school with sidewalks winding through the grassy areas. His raised voice asked the group, "Is this a all ladies yoga class or what?" He repeated the question a few times as he slowed to a stop beside the circle. "Are there any men in here?" He was about 10 feet away from them.
I walked over to him and said in a calm tone, inaudible to the team, "These are high school students and they are in gym class."
"Oooh! They in class! I don't mean to be disturbin' class!"
"And you don't need to be hollerin' at them."
"I wadn't hollerin'!" and then, "Hey, do you know _____ _____? 'Cause I'm supposed to be meetin' him here."
"No. Okay. Thank you and see you later." I cut our conversation as short as possible once it became clear that he was under the influence of something other than fresh, clean air, and I walked back toward my picnic table.
"Wait! Hey. Are you married? Where you goin'... 'cause you fine as hell!" he yelled to my sassy new corduroy pants.
"Bye-bye!" I waved without turning around.
He said a few more things I couldn't make out over the workout music and then he rode off.
Once he was out of sight, another round of nervous laughter from the girls bubbled up over the music. One of them repeated, "You fine as hell!" Cue more laughter. "That's right you are, Coach Nonni!"
A huge smile came to my face, so I nodded and waved my acknowledgement and thanks, then returned to my planning.
I'm sure you've heard about the epic rains hitting Southern California in January. The worst part for me was the dearth of tennis playing and practice. Our high school practices are always eventful and often involve something hilarious. I really miss my girls when I don't see them for a while. So I thought I'd write about this to tide me over until the next sunny day.
thanks for reading. What do you remember about your high school coaches?
Love,
Coach Nonni <3
I love reading about your life experiences. They are interesting and funny and always right on target!!!! You fine as hell!!!!