Female Athletics & the Predators Inside
The Winter Olympics in Pyeongchang last February were followed by a jarring juxtaposition of news stories. On one side, the media offered some laudatory stories of women who managed to combine motherhood with careers as high-level athletes. Kikkan Randall, for instance, who won a gold medal in cross-country skiing, is also the mother of a toddler. During the months of rigorous training and traveling leading up to the Olympics, she and her husband, with the help of the whole USA ski team, managed to find a way to keep their family together. (They did leave their son with grandparents during the Olympics, due to cost.) "In a sport like cross-country skiing, where it takes so long to get to the top, you really just start getting to the fun part when you're kind of in your prime childbearing age," Randall told the Boston Globe. "It was something where I didn't want to have to make a choice either way. I was curious to see if I could do it."
In late February, CNN Money published a story on "What pregnancy means for top female athletes and endorsements." Snowboarder Kimmy Fasani and volleyball megastar Kerri Walsh Jennings were featured, and both related the fears they had of becoming mothers as athletes, as well as the immense rewards they have experienced. The women not only were able to keep up with their respective sports, but also to secure and retain commercial endorsement contracts. Perhaps surprisingly, they found their commercial sponsors to be remarkably understanding—even thrilled—about their pregnancies. And new, mom-friendly sponsors, like the Honest Company, have stepped up.
Female athletes and such sponsors are "changing the narrative" about women having to decide between motherhood and continuing their athletic careers. "The smartest brands understand that athletes actually become more dimensional, relatable, and influential as moms," says talent agent Lindsay Kagawa Colas.
Yay for women! We're figuring it out! We've finally managed to combine high-level careers with motherhood—and the organizations that hire us are finally waking up to ways they can help us, instead of hindering us, in the pursuit of our dreams.
Victimized Female Athletes
But perhaps I spoke too soon. The Olympics are barely over at the time of this writing, and already stories of sexual assault and abuse of female athletes have started to circulate. Just days after the games concluded, two directors at USA Swimming resigned due to allegations of far-reaching abuse of young swimmers in the organization. Among the accusers is Ariana Kukors, an Olympic swimmer who told the Associated Press that her coach, Sean Hutchison, now 46, began "grooming" her as a victim when he was 31 and she just 13, that he initiated physical contact when she was 16, and began all-out sex at 17. Hutchison has denied the allegations, saying he did nothing with Kukors that was "not consensual," according to a story by ABC, and that he had no kind of romantic or sexual relationship with her until she "was old enough to legally make those decisions for herself." As if a "consensual" relationship, given the power dynamic and age difference, was ever possible.
A few days after that, the head of the U.S. Olympic Committee, Scott Blackmun, stepped down. His representatives claimed health as the reason, but most media outlets covering the story were quick to point out that Blackmun has been the target of some pretty severe criticism following his handling of the Larry Nassar sexual abuse case. Nassar, a longtime sports medicine doctor for both Michigan State University and USA Gymnastics, was convicted last winter of sexually abusing numerous girls under the guise of providing medical treatment.
So widespread is sexual assault in higher-level athletics that, in an unprecedented move, the Olympic Games opened not one, not two, but four centers at Pyeongchang specifically to handle accusations of sexual misconduct. These Gender Equality Support Centers dealt with at least ten reported incidents of sexual harassment, although none involved police intervention. So prevalent are such problems in the sports world that ESPN ran a story last January with the rather unnerving title—at least for parents—of "Talking to Your Young Athletes About Sex Abuse."
The Need to Face Reality
How is such a juxtaposition possible? How can we have stories praising female athletes for remaining true to their dreams and praising the organizations that "empower" them to achieve both motherhood and gold, and at the same time read story upon story of sexual abuse in athletics?
I posit that, once again, we have a realm in which reality is largely ignored. It's insanely difficult to have a baby while being a top-tier athlete because peak performance comes, as Randall says, during a woman's prime childbearing years. The world of work, including athletics, aligns with the male reproductive pattern, not the female. That's why a story about an Olympic gold medalist also being a mom is newsworthy—because only a very few women can actually surmount the difficulties. You can write all the stories you want about women being empowered to combine parenthood and athletics as easily as men, but reality says otherwise.
But there is a darker reality associated with athletics that is also too much ignored. At the higher levels, girls (and boys) spend countless hours with their coaches and trainers, adults they come to trust and with whom they develop close ties. We like to pretend that biology is not a factor we need to take into account in this context, that extremely close, even intimate relationships can exist between young athletes and adult coaches without any inappropriate lines being crossed. And that's probably true, in the right situations.
But it is also a reality that coaches and trainers do not merely verbally instruct their young athletes; close physical contact—touching, positioning, realigning, hugging—occurs on a day-to-day basis, as well as mental support and encouragement. That's an intense relationship, in an intensely physical environment, and to pretend otherwise, to pretend that there are no potential dangers to guard against, is to do these children and teens a huge disservice.
I'm not saying that it's dangerous for girls to strive to become elite athletes, any more than I would say that it's dangerous for them to endeavor to become CEOs, or boardroom chairs, or any other high-level position that is generally dominated by men. But this is a fallen world. Our children—in these stories, our daughters—are the ones most affected by its sexual fallenness. So in the athletic environment as elsewhere, let us be aware of biological realities and desires; let us be intensely on guard and watchful of those with whom our children are in close contact; and let us do our best to safeguard them from predators and abusers.
Rachael Denhollander, one of the first of Larry Nassar's victims to press charges, said in an interview that she will not allow her daughter to take gymnastics classes. Her daughter has the right body, she says. She seems to have talent. But if she is any good, she will reach a level of competition where the people in charge are not people that Mrs. Denhollander would trust. Perhaps that is the best warning of all, from someone who has suffered deeply from child predation in the athletic world.
Nicole M. Kingis the managing editor of The Natural Family, the quarterly publication of the International Organization for the Family.
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