No Yelling

I’ve never understood why a coach, parent, boss, or teacher thinks they will get better results by intimidation, shaming, or shouting at the people under their jurisdiction. Stop and think about how you react when someone shouts at you or threatens unpleasant consequences. Flight or fight are common reactions, and then there’s the other option…frozen. Some of us just quit. Some retaliate with anger and aggression, and others crawl into a hole of shame and are of no use to anyone. None of those responses are likely to achieve the desired result.

A local school has a new volleyball coach this year. She told team members at the beginning of the year that she would not yell at them. I haven’t been in the locker room, or at practice, but I have seen a few of their games, and the difference is obvious. This is a small school whose volleyball record for the last couple of years was abysmal. The kids were discouraged, the fans sad, and nobody looked happy out there on the court. This year they are doing better, teamwork is improved, they win now and then and, even when they don’t, the games are fun to watch and scores are close enough to keep the fans engaged. But one of the fathers got to the most important aspect when he said, “It’s nice to see the girls smiling out there.” The kids are having fun and you can tell it. They walk a little taller, stand a little straighter, even when they lose. This should be fun. This is a game, and games are supposed to be fun. I’m afraid too many of us have forgotten that.

Whether from parental expectations, administrative pressure, community animosity, or other issues, coaches don’t have an easy time of it. When the team doesn’t excel it’s always the coach who gets blamed. No wonder so many of them are inclined to berate the people upon whom their future employment depends. I realize sports are big business, but that’s no reason for business to be conducted on the basis of abuse, and yelling at people is abuse. If we are honest, too many of us believe that the team’s record, or our children’s behavior, is a reflection on our own worth. People will praise us, look up to our community, or say good things about our family, if things look good from the outside. Instead of being leaders, role models, and mentors, we ask our youth to carry the water for us. Sure, it’s more fun when our team is on top, but there are lessons to be learned from losing too, and shaming isn’t a productive lesson plan.

Unless you are one of the very few who go on to the pros, school sports are a very small portion of your life. If you are a parent or fan whose world revolves around the performance of the team, you’re stuck in that portion of your own life. There’s a lot of other stuff out there that’s worthy of your attention.

One of my friends used to work for a boss who was impossible to please. This friend is a conscientious employee who goes above and beyond what is required. But when she got discouraged and needed to vent, she always ended by saying, “It’s just a job. It’s not my family, not my life, not my health. It’s just a job.” She knew she’d find another job where her skills would be rewarded and she did, because she didn’t waste a lot of energy on changing someone who wasn’t willing to offer encouragement.

Go out and enjoy the game this week. Compliment the kids on their efforts. And remember, it’s just a game. Everyone should be having fun.

Meet me here next week and meanwhile, do your best. Somebody might like it.