Coaching and motherhood
Issue: Volume 29 Number 4
This article was first published in Canadian Journal for Women in Coaching online, Volume 7 Number 2, April 2007 and is reproduced with permission from the Coaching Association of Canada.
That the coaching profession is demanding is a hard fact of life. The strains and stresses are well documented — odd hours, working weekends, frequent travel, lengthy away-from-home training camps, parental interference, under-funded programs, demanding boards. The list goes on. Balancing these demands are the rewards — guiding athletes to develop physical and social skills, building their self-esteem and positive self-images, enabling them to achieve and even exceed their potential, making a positive difference in their lives.
When asked what drives them, most coaches cite passion for their profession as a powerful motivator. It’s an emotion that can conflict, often irreconcilably, with the equally passion-inspiring state of motherhood. This conflict drives many women coaches from the profession, some forever and others for extended periods.
Does it need to be so black and white? No. Committed coaches are finding ways to combine career and motherhood without stepping away from coaching for prolonged periods. It isn’t easy, but it is becoming more doable. The times, as Bob Dylan said, are a-changin’, and none too soon.
Case study 1 – Dare to move on
In a matter-of-fact tone, Sheilagh Croxon talks about her decision of five years ago to not renew her contract as head coach of Canada’s synchronised swimming team. Fresh from coaching her athletes to the team bronze medal at the 2000 Olympic Games and two world championship medals in 2001, she asked Synchro Canada for a seven-month maternity leave when she became pregnant with her third child.
The organisation agreed, but when Croxon requested some compensation, she was turned down flat. After a period of reflection, she decided to move in new directions. 'I felt I had no choice. My position was based on a yearly contract and provided no benefits. Nor was I eligible for unemployment insurance. Marley was born on February 6, 2002, one week after I stepped off the pool deck. I would have preferred to have stopped coaching earlier, but I wasn’t going to get paid.'
Croxon, whose other children are 12-year-old Nicolas and nine-year-old Natalie, had stated her case in writing to the Synchro Canada board. She felt herself to be in a strong position. The Olympic medal (one of Canada’s 14 won at the Sydney Games) and the world championship medals indicated a national team on the upswing after several down years. Implicit in her argument was her belief that refusing her leave with compensation would send a negative message to the organisation’s coaches, all of whom were women. 'I wasn’t looking for anything huge, just some sign of good faith, something to show that they valued me, that they understood, but they said no.' No reason was given other than that the board would stick to her contract as written. End of discussion.
Although Croxon fulfilled the balance of her contract after taking the seven months off without pay, her decision to move on was firm. 'I would have stayed had the environment been more supportive. Since it wasn’t, I realised I had to look out for myself and get into a better working arrangement, one that allowed some family consideration. It was painful, a real slap in the face, almost humiliating. I thought they would understand, and when they didn’t, I took it as a sign that it was time to move on.'
Croxon had fared better with her first two pregnancies, both of which occurred when she was a club consultant, even though she only took eight weeks off with each child. 'I made the case for some support, and my club board paid someone else to coach for me and paid my salary as well. It may have been because a board of parents knows you better than a national board does. Maybe my personal interaction with that board made my situation more human for them.'
Croxon also has a supportive husband, Jean Constantin, who took paternity leave for each child. When Nicolas was born, Constantin took a leave-of-absence so that the family could relocate to Edmonton for nine months when the team was centralised there before the 1996 Olympic Games. 'The move was possible because Jean said he would come, and that shows what an open-minded man he is,' says Croxon. 'Some people are not that supportive, because it goes against the norm.'
Once her decision was made, Croxon put her disappointment behind her and moved on to work that not only is good for her but is improving conditions for other women coaches. She is the Coaching Association of Canada (CAC)’s consultant responsible for its Women in Coaching Program, a national campaign to increase the number of coaching opportunities for women at all levels of sport. In demand as an international consultant, Croxon has worked with Olympic and national teams from around the world. Within Canada, she is a regular presenter of clinics, camps, and consultations and is a mentor to several National Coaching Certification Program Level 4 candidates. In 2005, she established the Toronto-based International Centre of Excellence, where athletes and coaches flock to work with her. She served on the executive of the Canadian Professional Coaches Association (now Coaches of Canada) and, these days, is the chair of the Coaches Association of Ontario.
She is heartened by the fact that Biz Price, her immediate successor, was made a Synchro Canada employee, and although Price’s was also a one-year contact, she got benefits equivalent to those of the national office staff. Better still, incumbent Isabelle Taillon’s contract is long term. Says Croxon, 'I felt that by leaving, I could do some good for the coaches who followed. My decision woke up a few people and made a difference, because now the coaches have acceptable working conditions. I’ve always been a groundbreaker. I’ve had to fight for everything in my coaching career, but there is some satisfaction in knowing that you have made a difference for those who follow.'
These days, one-year coaching contracts are generally frowned upon because they do not build stability or show long-term vision. Nor do they acknowledge that, in sport, it takes more than one year to produce success. 'It is people like me, people who come up short, who spark change for the next generation. That’s often the way it is,' says Croxon.
Croxon is committed to encouraging sport organisations to understand the importance of creating conditions that work for the woman coach. 'They need to realise that good people are everything, and that intellectual capital is not easily replaced. Key to that is identifying champions for women within Canada’s sport system — men and women who really understand what being a mother is all about and what the demands are on the coach.'
The next generation is already breaking into the upper levels of coaching. Four of the brightest lights are also young mothers, and their stories illustrate the complexities and challenges of combining coaching and motherhood to the detriment of neither.
Case study 2 - Stand your ground
Natascha Wesch is an upwardly mobile rugby coach. She has coached Rugby Canada’s U-19 women’s team and the Ontario U-17, U-19, and U-23 teams, and she is the head coach of the women’s varsity team at the University of Western Ontario, where she is working on a doctorate in sport psychology. She spent five years as the Ontario Rugby Union’s director of women’s rugby. In December 2006, she became head coach of the National Women’s Sevens Team. And oh, yes, on December 5, 2005, she gave birth to her first child, a daughter named Machaela.
Wesch greeted the news of her pregnancy with delight and, like so many first-time mothers, assumed that her life wouldn’t change. 'To be honest, and I think it’s the same for everybody, I had no idea what to expect and I didn’t believe it when people told me I was crazy to expect to carry on as usual.'
Throughout the pregnancy, she coached non-stop, even flying with the university team to the national championship in her eighth month. And she informed Rugby Canada that she would coach after the birth and spelled out how she intended it to happen.
Wesch was frank about her needs. 'I told them that it was my personal choice to nurse my daughter for one year, meaning three training camps were involved. I said that if you want me to coach this team, she is coming with me, and I need somebody to take care of her, and I expect the costs of a flight and a room for a babysitter to be incorporated into the budget. When it was suggested that I bottle-feed her and leave her at home with her dad, I said, ‘Then I’m going to tell you that you’ve just lost your head coach!’ It was black and white. As long as I wasn’t paid a salary but was coaching as a volunteer, this was how it was going to be.'
The wrinkle, says Eva Havaris, who as manager of rugby development was responsible for Wesch’s budget, was that Rugby Canada lacked policies to cover Wesch’s situation. Havaris contacted several organisations, including CAC and the Canadian Centre for Ethics in Sport, looking for a policy that would protect the interests of both parties. 'Of course there weren’t any, and there should be if we want more women involved in sport without creating barriers for them. A maternity leave policy is a matter of a best practice. I would like Rugby Canada to take a stand, be the first sport organisation to do it, and be seen as a supporter of women coaches.'
In the end, Rugby Canada agreed to factor Wesch’s expenses into the budget. Ultimately, the decision was Havaris’s. 'I really believe in what she does. She bends over backwards, and everybody in the coaching community in Canada knows that and her accomplishments. This is someone who is going to continue to contribute. It’s not as though she has hit the pinnacle of her career. In some ways, at the national level, she’s just starting.'
The lesson, says Wesch, is to know what you want and to stand your ground, which admittedly is not always easy. 'I know my value. I am the only highly certified female rugby coach, and they want to keep people like me involved, so I knew I had leverage.'
At the university, Wesch’s situation was different. Coaching the varsity team is part of her workload, and the season, which runs from the end of August to mid-November, was over by the time Machaela was born. When the 2006 season rolled around Machaela was nine months old and ready for afternoon day care. Wesch is with her until 11 a.m., and Wesch’s husband, Chad Dawson, whose work permits a flexibility that other spouses might not have, picks Machaela up at 4:30 p.m., leaving Wesch free to coach until 6 p.m. 'We made the decision that I wasn’t going to turn into a little housewife and he the breadwinner. It was going to be equal. We had 50/50 input into making her, so we were going to be 50/50 in caring for her. It’s all about flexibility and having a spouse who is extremely supportive.'
Wesch stresses the importance of establishing priorities. 'Is it having your child with you? Is it being a mum? Is it being a mum and a coach? Whatever it is, stick to your guns and know what you want. Know clearly ahead of time what you want to accomplish and how you want to involve your child. I knew I wanted time to be my own person and have my individual life back, so to speak, but I also wanted to raise my daughter and not have her in day care all day long.'
Despite having a clear picture of how she would do her mothering, Wesch found it wasn’t cut and dried. Unable to 'carry on as usual', she faced some hard choices. 'For the first three months I tried, unsuccessfully, to keep doing what I was doing before, and I was just getting frustrated. I went through a very difficult time with postpartum depression. It hit me like a rock and flattened me for seven months.
'What hit me the most was my inability to get things done. My PhD was on hold. My coaching career, which absolutely matters to me, was on hold. I was questioning everything, which is totally unlike me. I couldn’t get out of the house and I couldn’t exercise. Although I love my daughter, it was like I had a ball and chain attached to me, limiting where I could go, and when it was really bad, I wanted to quit everything.'
Realising that something had to give, Wesch made some decisions. She didn’t run again as an Ontario Rugby director and she stopped coaching the Ontario and national U-19 teams to focus on the university team and the women’s sevens. She resumed her exercise routine and put Machaela in part-time day care. 'Although I felt really guilty, things started to feel so much better because I was able to be me for half a day.'
Wesch supported Havaris contacting Croxon to ask if Wesch was asking too much and what they were allowed to do. 'Sheilagh told them that if they wanted to keep me, then they should accommodate me as much as possible. They could have said, ‘Too bad, we’re finding someone else,’ but they knew the value I bring to the sport and the association and said, ‘OK, that’s the way it is.’ Keep in mind, though, that I wasn’t asking for a lot.'
Case Study 3 - Ask for what you need
Isabelle Taillon, the head coach of Synchro Canada’s national A team and the mother of three-year-old Matis and 18-month-old Evans, is a beneficiary of the changes that arose directly out of Croxon’s experience. She is also fortunate that she lives in the province of Quebec, where maternity leave is guaranteed (see www.rqap.gouv.qc.ca).
Hooked on coaching while a 19-year-old student at the Université du Québec à Montréal, Taillon landed her first position in 1992 with the Dollard Synchro Club’s junior program. Her progress was aided by seasoned coach Diane Lachapelle. 'She gave me great athletes to work with, to prove I could make the most of them and get results on the national scene. I was gaining confidence and learning and was able to show what I could do.' Invaluable international exposure came when she landed a consulting contract with Hungary before the 2000 Olympic Games.
Taillon’s relationship with Synchro Canada dates back to 1997, when she was offered the position of national junior team assistant coach. Except for a brief stint as head coach of the national B team, she remained with the junior team until 2003.
Thirty-six weeks pregnant at the May 2003 national championships, Taillon returned home, delivered Matis in June, and began her maternity leave. 'I wasn’t planning to do anything with the national team that summer, but I was really torn because it is difficult for a coach to take a leave. You wonder what’s going to happen when you come back. Will you have the same relationship with your athletes or will they do better with your replacement? I was also wondering if I, as a new mum, would be able to continue my coaching career. You never know until it happens what’s involved in being a mum.'
That September, Taillon’s life was turned upside down when Synchro Canada asked her to become head coach of the 2004 Olympic team. The lure proved irresistible, new baby or not. 'I wanted so badly to be part of the Olympic adventure. Sometimes an opportunity comes and you just have to go for the challenge. I made the decision quite quickly and was supported by everyone around me. I had a lot of encouragement and solution-oriented suggestions on how to manage this with a newborn.'
As head coach, Taillon was expected to relocate to the national training centre in Toronto, a move that was delayed for several months while the pool underwent repairs. In the interim, the team trained in Montreal, giving her welcome breathing space. By January, however, the move could no longer be postponed, and Taillon moved to Toronto, leaving her husband, Frédéric Bessette, and Matis behind, a circumstance she still has difficulty speaking about.
She asked for, and was granted by Synchro Canada, a scheduling adjustment that freed her from coaching on the weekends and enabled her to leave for Montreal by train on Friday afternoon, returning in time for Monday morning practice. She paid her train fare and, later, her plane fare when train travel proved to be too tiring. She also paid her day-care costs. Faced with a 20-day training camp, Taillon asked Synchro Canada to cover her babysitter’s room and board. Having her request granted was 'amazing'.
Asked why she didn’t seek more financial support from Synchro Canada, Taillon points to her lack of experience. 'I was too young to ask for much and so I didn’t negotiate anything in particular to help me through this. I relied on my family support system and I still do. What should I have asked for? For trips exceeding two weeks, that Synchro Canada pay for my babysitter and my children to come with me. For Synchro Canada to top up the government maternity leave payments. For a small bonus for day care.'
Day care is a trigger, especially now that the family includes Evans (born in August 2005, just after the World Aquatic Championships). 'My babysitter is my mum, but I pay her, and if Fred isn’t available and I’m away, she puts in far more than the usual hours. A regular day-care system or babysitter isn’t possible because of a coach’s hours and travel.' Taillon hasn’t considered a nanny because that is not the norm in Quebec. 'Only the really wealthy seem to have a nanny. I don’t know anyone who does.'
Taillon, who signed a four-year contract after Athens, says that Synchro Canada is open to her situation. 'I know they realise it’s a challenge, and when I do ask for little things, they always do what’s possible, but I find it difficult to ask because I assume I have to figure it out.'
Now only months away from the 2008 Olympic Games, Taillon describes her efforts to be national coach and mother as 'a work in progress. The main reason I can do it is my husband, who always says we’ll figure things out, and my strong family network.' It also helps that this quadrennial the team is centralised in Montreal, so no more commuting to Toronto.
Her passion for coaching is why Taillon’s life is a juggling act. 'Is it totally fair to my children? Is it totally working? I don’t know. I am sure women in other professions do a lot of innovative thinking to make everything work, but the travel and the weird training and competition schedules make coaching even more difficult. Is it worth it? Yes, because I have two families, my biological family and the team family. That’s the reason I do it — for the athletes I coach, for the people I work with, and for the Olympic adventure. That and the passion for coaching that still consumes me.'
