“Go, go, go, dig, dig, dig.”
I hear my voice replaying on the video and cringe. I sound like a crazy woman.
It’s just my child running a 5th grade field day race for gosh sakes. In the scheme of things it doesn’t even count. The distance is approximately 50 (or is it 100 yards?) and none of the kids are called back for jumping the gun. Still, there I am, my voice reaching a high pitch squeal.
Here she comes, my girl crossing the finish line … first.
I wipe away tears, choke back a sob.
I’m sure it’s her strong body and competitiveness and has nothing to do with my out of control fervor.
My daughter is in for some rough years unless I get banned from her sporting events. I don’t think they can do that to moms. But if they do, maybe I can wear my police reserve uniform and sneak in. And, if that doesn’t work, I’ll go as McGruff.
Not that I screeched any less at her brother when he was running. “Go, Antonio, go. Dig, dig, dig.” He’s in for the same mortification.
When another mom, texted a photo of 12-year old Crystel and her daughter, following their first cross country race as 6th graders, it hit me that Crystel’s experience in sports will be very different than mine.
This year marks the 42nd anniversary of Title IX.
In 1970 when I was 12, Title IX had not yet passed. Although I could beat my older brothers at most anything and was the only one who dived off the cliff in Spring Valley, Wisconsin into the Eau Galle Dam, I couldn’t compete in sports.
Regulations on how to implement Title IX, signed into law, June 23, 1972, did not go into effect until 1975.
This past summer, Crystel was mulling over which activities and sports she was going to become involved in during middle school. “This is what you call a dilemma, Crystel,” I told her. “You have so many options that you will have to choose.”
Three weeks into middle school, she’s done what she can to cram in her interests: piano, dance, cross country, and Kor Am Tae Kwon Do. If she could she’d figure out how to add soccer and a number of other after school activities.
When Title IX was enacted, 1 in 27 girls participated in athletics. One in three girls participates in athletics today.
In the photo, Crystel and her friend are self-assured, confident, and have just run their first one mile race. According to the Women’s Sports Foundation, women who are active in sports have more self-confidence and are more outgoing than women who do not participate.
Most people think Title IX only applies to sports, but athletics is only one of ten key areas addressed by the law. Other areas include: access to higher education, career education, education for pregnant and parenting students, employment, learning environment, math and science, sexual harassment, standardized testing, and technology.
Before Title IX
• In 1972, women earned just 7% of all law degrees and 9% of all medical degrees.
• In 1970, women earned only 13.3% of doctoral degrees.
• Women weren’t awarded athletic scholarships.
After Title IX
• For the graduating class of 2013, the Department of Education estimated that women earned 61.6% of all associate’s degrees, 56.7% of all bachelor’s degrees, 59.9% of all master’s degrees, and 51.6% of all doctor’s degrees.
• Last year, 140 women graduated with a college degree at some level for every 100 men.
• By 2003, there was more than $1 million in scholarships for women at Division I schools.
My WordSister, sister in writing, Ellen Shriner has completed a book-length memoir called BRAVADO AND A SKETCHY VISION LED ME HERE, a coming-of-age story that takes place in 1979 and 1980 during her first year of college teaching.
Her memoir portrays the challenges of women faced as they sought graduate degrees and entered the workforce.
On July 5, 2012, Ellen also wrote a blog piece about Title IX.
Thanks to Title IX, Crystel has the wonderful dilemma of choosing which sport she will compete in. Eventually when she joins the workforce, she will have more choices to her liking than women of previous generations had.
And, because of Title IX, Crystel and Antonio will have to put up with a mom that alternately shrieks and sobs at the finish line.