My Mom Raised a Team

    The most valuable lessons I have learned about coaching, I learned a very long time ago from an unsuspecting source, my mom. Karen Dawson is the least coach-type person you will ever meet. She never played sports, and I am not sure that she really likes them, or understands them either, though she has watched a lot of them. She is the only parent I know who fell asleep while sitting in the stands at the Olympic Games watching her daughter play (she claims she was just resting her eyes). Still, her influence on the way that I coach is beyond measure. My mom didn’t teach skills, she instilled values. She didn't coach teams, she raised one.

A friend from college asked me recently if my mom ever yelled at us growing up. I had to think about it for a moment. She definitely got annoyed and overwhelmed by us; she raised her voice when we were being ridiculous, told us to go outside and swing on the swings, but I can’t remember a time when she ever yelled at me in a way that felt demeaning or made me question her love for me. 

My mom showed up. She made lunches and gave rides. She was the first up in the morning, and the last to bed at night. She saw each of us for who we were. She didn’t expect us to be the same. She had a different relationship with each of us. She let us be wild. Never shamed us for being who we were. She never spoke poorly about anyone. She looked for the good in everyone; even in the worst of circumstances. She was kindest to the people who needed kindness the most. She stayed away from the gossip and the crowd. She stayed out of the spotlight. She didn’t let us quit. She let us talk about quitting; vent about our coaches; our teammates. She listened. She never amped up our egos or diminished our pride. She let us feel the things we needed to feel. She was humble. Saw us for the people we were. She knew that each mistake would become a lesson. She saw the things we cared about, and learned to care about those things because she cared about us. She let us be wild and passionate. She didn’t tame our passions. She didn’t tell us how to think or feel. She let us find our own way; and when we got it wrong, got in trouble, veered a dangerous direction. She showed up and supported us. She helped us navigate the consequences of our actions. She saw the good in us all the time, even when it was hardest. She reminded us of our beauty everyday. She wasn’t perfect. She told us she only had so much she could give. She was honest about what was possible, and what wasn’t. She trusted God to provide what she couldn’t. She trusted God to provide what was needed. She trusted us, too.

I asked my mom recently about her philosophy on parenting. This is what she said:

“Most of my life I was standing in a spot, then moving forward, then stepping backwards like I didn’t know which way I was going. I just kept giving what I saw as necessary for each child. One kid needed to shop, I did not like to shop, but I would still go with her. One kid liked to walk, whether I wanted to or not I would go, down a mountain and back up. One kid wanted me to have a catch, and I did even though I was not athletic. One kid always wanted to save money, so I let her buy cheap things even though I wanted her to spend more. With all of them, I just wanted them to be who they were.”

When I think about what my mom did for me, I am inspired to do the same for those I coach. I want to give what is necessary for each athlete to find their own way in sport. Every athlete, like everyone of my siblings, is different - different personalities, different goals, different challenges, different talents, different resources, different backgrounds, different stages of development. Every athlete needs something different to unlock their potential. What works for one athlete, may not work for another athlete. Beyond that, athletes change. What worked in the past, may not be what works right now. 

It’s overwhelming to think about. Every athlete. Every day. Every moment. Every need. As a coach, it often feels like an impossible task to give each athlete what they need to develop. Like my mom said, “I was standing in a spot, then moving forward, then stepping backwards like I didn’t know which way I was going. I just kept giving what I saw as necessary for each child.” More days than not, you feel like someone isn’t getting what they need. You do your best, but often, the constraints - time, resources, energy, knowledge - limit your ability to deliver what is needed. 

    I often marvel at what my mom gave us, given the circumstances, and when I think about it in the context of coaching, I think these are 5 of the values she instilled in me:

• Provide structure, sustenance and support.
• Mom made lunches and gave rides, a million rides, everyday. She always showed up for us. She stood out of the spotlight. She let the spotlight shine on us. 
• Stand in Awe of Them. Remind them of their power and beauty.
• Mom stood in awe of us as athletes. She marveled that we could run around a field. She didn't care about winning or losing. She saw the beauty in each of us as people, and reminded us of it all the time. 
• Do Your Best within the constraints you are given. 
• Mom never got caught up in what she couldn't provide; she gave what she could give in every moment, and had to trust that it was enough.
• Let Them Think for Themselves. 
• It was a challenge, but mom often let us think for ourselves. She didn't try to sway us to think the way she thought. She gave us space to think and find our own way. 
• Show interest in the Things they care about. 
• Mom walked up and down that mountain with me. She learned to care about sports because her kids cared about sports.  

    The next time you take the field to coach, remember this: As coaches, we aren't just teaching skills, we are instilling values through sport, providing spaces to grow. We are raising teams of people to harness their power, perspectives and potential on the playing field. Whatever the constraints, do your best to give them what they need.