There seems to be a shortage of men who work with young women in a way that uplifts instead of objectifies them, encourages instead of tears down, without plans for manipulation or abuse.

Thank you for being among them.

I don’t need to tell you that we girls keep things interesting. For one, we take things personally. Boys can get mad, throw a few punches, then hang out afterward. Girls… well, we remember what one teammate did ages ago, and we STILL don’t talk to her, and you will see all signs of it when we play. We may struggle to control our words (in quantity, volume, use, take your pick), and we need time to connect and build trust together before we become a well-oiled machine. As a whole, we can be a tricky breed, and the fact that you’ve toughed it out with the likes of us is a testimony to your character (and maybe a hint of your strength of will!).

As a coach now, I see the windows of opportunity I have for influence, to affect the lives of young women, and I’m a woman. As men, you have unique opportunities that can result in our growth, or in our harm, especially while we’re young. In a world full of men who make the wrong choices toward us, signs of a safe male figure are few and far between. Thankfully, I can list many that you embodied. A few come to mind:

• When you could’ve abused your opportunities, you looked out for me and taught me how to look out for those younger or newer than me.
• When you could’ve called me names and insulted me, you picked me up, challenging my ability and attitude instead of my personality.
• When you could’ve told me I’d never measure up, you talked through goals with me, and shared your confidence that I could meet them.

As I grew and met other women athletes, I heard more stories of coaches who played favorites, called names, cursed at players, and thought they were above correction. They knew what they were talking about, they insisted, and we were just learning. “Suck it up and take what I give you,” is what we read between the lines.

We may be learning, but we notice.

We notice the way you talk to referees, with respect or without, for our safety in line with the rules of play, or for petty reasons. We see if you control your reactions, or if you fly off the handle.

We notice how you carry yourself after winning or losing, whether you think the wins are about you or about your team – and whether you will take responsibility, or expect us to take all of it, when the weight is shared.

We notice how you talk to our teammates, if you care for each of us as people, or if you care only for what we produce. We notice that you defer to female coaches on your staff for topics and concerns that should be off limits with you. We notice if the team feels comfortable talking to you, or if we’d rather back away when you come close. No, not every player has the same level of comfort, but there’s a level of respect that should exist, and we notice whether you are willing to offer it as well as receive it.

Maya Angelou said that people may not remember what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel. We spent a lot of hours in gyms and on bus rides, and I can’t recall  most of the details of our interactions. The feelings, however, have stuck, and here’s what I remember:

• You made me feel strong.
• You made me feel capable.
• You made me feel that I could grow, I could change, and I had more power to change than I realized.
• You made me feel welcome.
• You made me feel that there are right ways and wrong ways to treat people, no matter what relationship I have with them.
• You made me feel brave, that I could take risks and even fail without fear.
• Most of all, perhaps without knowing it, you made me feel I could count on you. And, thankfully, I know that’s still true.

The feelings I keep from our time together are reminders that encourage me even now, as I step out to be a beginner again, try new things, build relationships, and pour into those who have come after me. There is so much more to say, but I’ll say this for now: I would not be the person I am, with the awareness, boldness, and heart for others that I have, without you.

Thanks for being there, for caring, for serving my teammates and me with your time and energy and coaching, for making your program a safe place for us. It wasn’t always easy, and we could be difficult, but you persisted.

Thank you, Coach. May God bless you as you’ve blessed me.