So I started coaching track at a southeast Portland high school. I have coached before, but this is a new experience, and I got a new introduction. The head coach, who I’ve known since competing for a rival high school, offered a much-appreciated and kind bio. He welcomed the concept of “a female perspective,” acknowledged as something previously unavailable.
One reason the introduction left me stoked is because my history is pertinent here: I ran for a socioeconomically diverse Portland high school, won League Districts, got to race at Hayward Field – all specifics of a recent era and environ these kids or their older siblings can relate to. If not that, I went to college with another assistant coach who they respect and admire, so his recommendation counts.
Another reason the introduction left me feeling like I might have some clout is because my perspective felt universal. My athletic experience could perhaps inspire not only this group of student athletes, but others as well. Specifically, my perspective as a female athlete offered a new resource. The world of coaching is relatively devoid of half the world’s population. As individuals, we may return to get involved in running and other sports via our roots, but what of participation by our gender?

Thirty-six or so years after the passage of Title IX, female participation in athletics at educational institutions receiving federal funds has exploded, but only 42 percent of women’s college teams are led by a female head coach. Although I was lucky enough to have an amazingly acclaimed female collegiate coach, it makes sense the that other most inspirational mentors who coached me in both high school and college were males. These men did not dissuade me from coaching, but the female coaches I encountered encouraged the career path to a greater degree - which is somewhat surprising when considering the dearth of female head coaches in results-oriented Division I schools.

Some prevalent stereotypes pertaining to women coaches are ridiculous enough to be funny. The facts, however, are sobering. Discrimination against female coaches was exemplified by blatant bias and subsequent lawsuits at Fresno State. A Penn State study clearly identifies how the cards are stacked against women hoping to coach collegiate sports, suggesting that campus athletics are “twenty years behind the corporate world” in harboring environments conducive to meeting females’ workplace ideals

And, yet, the corporate world demonstrates egregious inequality: the American Association of University Women found that even just one year after college graduation, women earn only 80% of what men do (and overall, this gap increases over time). That considered, I find it somewhat ironic that in a recent interview a collegiate coach asked me whether I could handle the retorts of individuals who might suggest that “coaching is a waste of your Columbia degree.” Regardless of what I do career-wise, each female will face systematic bias as exemplified by socioeconomic indicators.

But, more than anything, the process of earning my college degree shed tremendous light on what I might do with my life: be true to myself by pursuing a passion driven by common good. And, frankly, aims such as starting a revolution slash saving the world by improving tracks in impoverished neighborhoods aren't driven by their monetary rewards. The lessons of my coaches and mentors encouraged me to pursue such ambitions. So maybe they’ve propped open a door; maybe I can do the same for someone else.