I can remember spending recess in elementary school doing one of two things — I was either walking up and down the stacks of the library looking for whatever Babysitters Club book I was on, or I was running up and down the field dirtying my white shirt and blue skirt by playing soccer. When it came to the latter, I was almost always the only girl and I was also not a particularly exceptional player, and so I was often left unmarked and un-passed to, neither of which were a deterrent to me. I loved racing around the open space to find the best position, gluing my feet to the ball as I dribbled it down the pitch, and reaching my leg back as far as I could on the rare occasions when I was open to make the shot.
In Tanzania, like much of the world, soccer is a part of the wider, daily culture. Down every side street and piece of open land is a group playing soccer, and around every radio and flat screen is a crowd watching soccer. Visiting my cousins’ house growing up, my uncle, aunt, and their two boys would watch every single game live during the World Cup, Euro Cup, FA Cup, Championship League, and Premier League, shouting one-way counsel through the two-dimensional screen and downing a seemingly endless supply of Coca Cola and peanuts. And so despite not being a big soccer watcher, I was a big soccer player, absorbing through osmosis a love of the sport from those around me.
My K-12 educational experiences and my years playing soccer go hand in hand. From playing on the Under-6 league in kindergarten to being the captain of the senior girls team in high school, soccer was the big constant for me growing up. Doing drills, playing a scrimmage, wearing my uniform, putting on my shin pads, screaming on the bus, bonding with my teammates — this is what school was for me.
For many, if not all of us, sports were an integral part of our education. Whether as participants or spectators, we spent hours of our days as students playing or watching soccer or swimming or basketball or football or tennis or cheerleading. As long as organised athletics has been around, kids have been imitating those athletes, either independently but also often with the guidance of adults there to coach them through Little League and the Olympics, typically beginning from and within schools.
But in recent years and across a variety of contexts, sports are disappearing from schools. Less money has been invested in sports due to decreases in educational spending and the financial prioritisation of more academic costs, such as STEM programs or literacy curriculums. As a result, youth sports have been increasingly siphoned to more private spaces for the families who can afford the entry. Moreover, the competitiveness of college admissions have raised the stakes for student athletes who will use sports as a lifeline rather or a way forward, which similarly raises the stakes and competitiveness at the entry level for youth sports at large. Culturally, discourse around the more insidious traits and behaviours glorified in sports has turned students and their families away, often rightfully so. And the rise of e-sports has eaten into the overall popularity of traditional sports.
Much has been said on what is lost in terms of children’s overall health and wellness due to declines in physical activity. What is missing is an exploration of what is lost in terms of children’s educational experiences in the absence of “extra”-curricular sports. Why do students need sports? And why do schools need sports too?
One year in Under 11s, our coach came up with a new motivational approach to improve our standing within our inter-school league. Every person who scored a goal would be bought one of the little ice-cream cups sold outside the gate from the fields, in direct view from where we played. I had already been scoring goals, but now with the phantom taste of neapolitan ice cream in my mouth, I was pushing down and grunting at my own teammates too in an effort to score more goals (even with a one ice-cream limit on the deal).
One week during half-time, my coach casually asked me if I wanted to play during the first half or the second, my response to which involved a lot of blinking. “I want other people to get to play and score,” he explained, with an infuriating calm, and just as I began to launch into a speech/diatribe, he politely reminded me that this was in fact a team sport and I could spend this time encouraging and affirming my teammates. “First half,” I mumbled in response, “so I can at least start the game and make sure we’re winning.”
If only I could say that week after week, as my team played better without me, I became more appreciative and less self-centered, but those who know me best would not be surprised to hear that was not the case. Week after week, as my team got better without me, I slouched and sulked from the sidelines. But, year after year, as I moved from team to team and spent more time on the bench, I did gradually work on how to be a team player and a cheerleader. I still need the lesson now as I needed it then, from a coach who knew me too well and a game that required me to do better.
There are lots of lessons taught best by sports. How to win, how to lose, how to persevere, how to quit, how to be disciplined, how to let loose, how to try, how to try, how to try. When we deny students the space to learn these lessons, we leave them less prepared for a world that is more than the quadratic formula and subject-verb agreements. Yes, they learn these lessons in non-athletic, non-competitive spaces like interactions with teachers and parents, but learning these lessons over and over again in practice and games, with teammates being taught the same things, and a coach committed to improving the individual and the collective, makes deeper the social-emotional learning connections taking place. Sports not only makes students better, but it can make school better too, providing students with the social-emotional skills needed to thrive academically too.
Additionally, coaches make larger the village that it takes to raise a child. The sad reality is that when done wrong, these are adults that can abuse their power and position by harming the students who trust them to make a difference in their lives. That cannot and should not be overlooked. And at the same time, when done right, coaches are adults that students can look to as sources of inspirations and support. They are able to teach without providing grades or the threat of disciplinary action, and make space for students to make mistakes, and get angry, and grow and improve every day. Students need as many adults in their lives as possible who they know are there for them, and sports makes this possible, by also taking the sole burden and pressure off of teachers and guardians.
Lastly, kids of all ages need sports to play for the sake of play. Statistics are often cited reminding us how few people ever end up becoming professional athletes, but why should that even matter? We learn chemistry without being chemists, and history without being historians, why shouldn’t we let all students have access to competitive sports, regardless of how far they plan to take it? Many of us were not the best on our team, but we got to play anyways, learning the lessons that came with sport and receiving the mentorship that came with coaches, and also having a good time while doing so. Sports can motivate students to show up to school and be engaged in school, fostering a love of education that extends beyond their day to day, but in their recollections of school for years to come. Students need sports in schools. And schools need sports too.
Decades after playing on my first soccer team, the after-school teacher coordinator at my school asked me if I wanted to help coach soccer for the kids from kindergarten to 2nd grade. It would only be twice a week, for an hour, and very informal, with no teams or games or uniforms, just play. It was a no-brainer and I jumped at the chance to teach my kids many of the same lessons that I got to learn, while also letting them experience the joy of playing sports in school with their friends.
Coincidentally, a friend of mine teaching in another district also began coaching soccer, though in complete contrast to me. Hers was done through a private, independent organization that has teams playing in a league, with games on the weekend, and parents setting up shop to cheer and provide snacks and other resources.
Both her kids and mine are loving soccer and building positive memories around school, just as my friend and I did when we were student athletes. As crucial as that first step is in admitting and advocating for the place of sports in schools, what must follow is a commitment to ensuring that all students in all schools have access to high-quality opportunities, regardless of their their gender, ability, socio-economic status and more. We need sports in schools, but we need good sports in school. For our kids and for our education systems too.
Couldn’t agree more. Playing basketball and lacrosse shaped me so much and I’m glad they also weren’t my whole life. We struggle to pay coaches what they deserve at our Title I school, not to mention which sports to prioritize.