When I was young, I participated in some team sporting events…I was not very good at it, but I enjoyed the banter and team work. I always had coaches, standing on the side lines every weekend during matches, giving us tips during half time (since they could see the whole field instead of just the little circle individual players were operating in), and ensuring we practice some basic skills during our practice sessions in the week. Coaches had to be, so I thought, great players of the sport themselves. They had to be passionate about the sport, and know the rules inside out. They had to always be there. We did not have practice sessions cancelled if one of the players did not show up, but we had one or two sessions cancelled because the coach did not show up…
On the days the coach did not show up, we felt alone and sort of lost. We knew what we had to do, but it did not feel quite right. In fact, I don’t know of any team that had some success or won any games, that did not have a coach.
Coaches. They were a bit of a mystery to me. They could play the game well, yet chose to step out of the game to be there for others wanting to learn. They worked out effective training sessions for the team. The could earn our trust and respect. Team players became better at playing the sport and being in a team, by listening to the coach. In the end, coaches built each team member’s capacity to go on into other teams, or play well in other situations.
In a way, I learnt a lot more than just sporting rules and practices from my coaches. I learnt about fair play. I learnt about the bigger picture and recouping and re-directing during half time. I learnt that sometimes someone has to sit out for a while to make sure the whole team gets to participate. I learnt about not getting angry or taking things personally if a parent or other team’s supporters yell abuse at you. I learnt about biting your tongue when the media (read: The local newspaper) says stupid things about you or your team.
When our coach drilled us during practice sessions, we just assumed it must be because the coach wanted to prepare us for every possible scenario. When things got really bad, we would just whisper to each other that the coach must have been having a tough day (but we still did what the coach asked.) We never knew that coaches could perhaps also be accountable to someone above them. Someone higher than the coach? It would have been unthinkable!
Coaches give it their all, and yet they live a dangerous life. In Australian football, I have observed, coaches could be out on their ear if their team does not perform…the team’s success can thus support the coach’s survival! To be fair, if it was not for the team, there would not be a coach.
I learnt valuable lessons from my coaches. I still carry that with me. Yet, I never knew that coaching could also be a lonely place. I never knew that coaches could also feel worried and lost. I never saw in my coaches that they sometimes questioned some of their own strengths. I never knew how much they actually took on board. It never occurred to me that they had to study constantly when we did not see them. They had to devise new game plans, know about all the new rules, observe new teams, etc. to ensure our team got the best and newest information…
The life of a coach in between games was largely hidden from us.
I never thought I would be a coach one day (I am not a very sporty person!)
And yet, I find myself as a teaching and learning coach. I am now the one cheering and guiding from the sidelines, looking at the big picture, sharing my passion for the ‘game of teaching and learning’ with other teachers. I now feel the aching deep inside of me, when I see basic mistakes being made by some of the team players I coach. Yet, I cannot step in and play the game for them. I cannot take over their role. I cannot be them. I can only stand and watch, working out new game plans to ensure the team’s synergy and individual strengths come to their full potential….
And in the final instance, I hope I can make some contribution to improved outcomes for our kids…that is my passion.