CSN TOMBOY

TOMBOY:The role direct communication plays in growth of female athletes

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TOMBOY:The role direct communication plays in growth of female athletes

I don't need to go into all the reasons it's a good idea for girls to play sports.

You know by now that it teaches teamwork, leadership, time management, confidence, and strength.

I think an overlooked attribute girls develop from playing sports is how to communicate. As a former college athlete, current youth softball coach, and sports reporter, I'd like to share how sports has helped me become a better communicator.

I grew up playing soccer and softball year-round, and enjoyed playing most sports for fun, with both girls and boys.

I noticed early on how my guy friends communicated with each other in sports. If they were mad because a teammate played poorly, or didn't see someone when they were open, they went right in each other's faces and told them to get their act together. That usually involved a bunch of swearing, and could even end up in a fist fight. But after that, they went back to being best buds like nothing ever happened!

I couldn't believe that.

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From a girl's perspective this was amazing. I mean, if one of my teammates was dogging it and not working hard, I always found the girls would talk behind her back and never, ever say anything to her face.

They would rarely say anything to the coach.

Even if the coach noticed (which of course they did) and said something, a lot of times behavior didn't change because there wasn't that peer pressure to help affect the change. I learned that the boys' way of communicating - direct and to the point - went a lot further to help the team.

I don't know why girls have a harder time doing that, but I suspect it has to do with confidence. Obviously direct communication doesn't mean a fist fight is the greatest outcome, but a direct conversation will affect change more often than just talking behind someone's back. I believe playing sports helps girls gain confidence, and it's importance to harness that in ways that will help them later in life also, like having the courage to communicate directly. This is something about which I continuously talk to my own daughters.

This lesson also helped me accept that "direct communication" in a positive way.

I always preferred the coach who told me where I stood.

Tell me I stunk.

Tell me where I messed up.

But please, please, please tell me how to fix it. Don't just lay into me and leave it. Lay into me, and then teach me.

Because of this mentality I had as an athlete, as I have grown up, I respect bosses and co-workers who do the same. This is why I always appreciated working for the late George Michael.

Man, he would get frustrated with this young 23-year old reporter. His temper was legendary. But after calling me and yelling at me 30 seconds after I got off the air, he always told me how much potential I had, and exactly what I could do to be better.

He was a teacher, and a coach, in addition to being a boss. Because of those lessons, he helped mold my career into what it is today. I appreciated the direct communication, and reciprocated that in return.

To me, teaching my young daughters to communicate directly is best illustrated through their sports. I love when I see them encouraging teammates in positive way to be better, and try harder, or asking coaches how they can be better, or how they can earn more playing time.

This is a lesson I learned through sports, and has certainly helped me in my professional career, and is now also helping me as a mom.

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TOMBOY: Why should the girls be treated any differently than the boys?

TOMBOY: Why should the girls be treated any differently than the boys?

 BY ABBY CHIN, CSN NEW ENGLAND

I grew up playing sports.

For the most part I played soccer, but I also ran cross-country and track. I skied, snowboarded, and, at one point, I tried gymnastics. (It wasn't pretty.) My two younger sisters did the same. Our parents ran themselves ragged driving us to practices and tournaments, arranging carpools and fundraisers.

It never crossed our minds that we were girls playing sports. It's just what we did. And we loved it!

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I didn't realize how lucky I was until visiting my grandparents in rural Ohio one summer. I found an old photo of their high school graduating class. I asked my grandmother what sports she played in school and I'll never forget her answer: "Oh, there were no sports for girls back then. We could cheer for the boys basketball team, but that was it."

I was shocked. I thought that was ridiculous. Why would the girls be treated any differently than the boys?

I couldn't comprehend it.

Looking back, I'm so thankful I grew up in a time and environment where that wasn't the case. I can't imagine my life without sports. Not only because it's what I do for a living, but because playing sports throughout my childhood is a big part of what made me the person I am today.

Sports taught me the value of hard work. Being part of a team, I learned how to communicate and work with people to accomplish a common goal . . . and discovered just how gratifying the process can be.

I became a teammate and leader who earned respect and empowered others. I made lasting friendships while stuffed like a sardine in a travel van singing Ace of Base at the top of my lungs. I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything. And I certainly wouldn't be in the position I'm in without them.

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Don't get me wrong; it hasn't all been positive. Now that I'm a woman working in sports, I've had other kinds of eye-opening moments. During an interview for my first on-air job I was asked, in so many words, if this is really a career for me or if I had other plans after I found a husband.

Once I did land a job, I covered many college football games by myself. There was one small school in particular whose players relentlessly catcalled me on the sidelines.

I won't repeat the foul things they said, but I can tell you I went home feeling very dirty (and it wasn't because I was pouring sweat after lugging a camera that weighed half as much as I did from end zone to end zone in the middle of an Alabama summer). Even now, every so often, social media has a special way of reminding me how some people still view women in sports.

Surprise -- it's not good.

But if that's the worst I have to go through, I know I can't complain.

My only focus is doing my job to the very best of my abilities and working as hard as I possibly can to continue to grow and get better. We've come a long way. I'm so grateful for those who blazed the trail and made it possible for me to do what I do. And, thanks to my grandmother, I will never take my opportunities for granted. My hope is that when my daughter grows up, she will be just as surprised and appalled by some of my bad experiences as I was talking to my grandmother that day.

TOMBOY: Trenni Kusneirek and the power of language

TOMBOY: Trenni Kusneirek and the power of language

March is Women's history month and CSN is working to elevate the discussion of gender in sports. The world premiere of CSN TOMBOY takes place on Sunday, March 5 at 7:30 p.m. on CSN Mid-Atlantic, following by a live discussion panel. 

BY TRENNI KUSNIEREK, CSN NEW ENGLAND

The first time I held my niece I was overcome by love.

It was the kind of love I never realized was possible. This tiny, perfect, half-asleep little girl grabbed my heart in a way that flooded me with emotion.

One of the biggest pulls: Protection. 

As my niece grew, she evolved into a beautiful little girl. She's the kind of child who prompts strangers to stop on the street and remark on her piercing blue eyes, her infectious smile, her ebullient personality. “You are such a pretty little girl,” they would say. 

While it made me smile, their observations also made me cringe. My niece was barely a toddler, yet I was terrified she would grow up believing her greatest attribute would be something mostly out of her control -- how attractive others perceived her to be. 

It was in that moment I knew I had to change the way I spoke about women and girls while also fighting to make sure others saw the importance of doing the same. 

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“They're just words,”people will say. 

“Sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you.”

Except . . . words do hurt. They're more than just a compilation of letters and punctuation. 

Webster’s Dictionary provides a number of definitions for “word” but one stands out. Definition 2 a (1) states: a speech sound or series of speech sounds that symbolizes and communicates a meaning usually without being divisible into smaller units capable of independent use. 

Communicates a meaning. 

Translation: Words do matter because they carry the weight of meaning.

As my niece grew, so did my linguistic awareness.

If she wore a cute outfit or had her hair styled a certain way, of course I would give her a compliment. However, I made it my mission to ensure our time together was focused on reading, playing, engaging kindly with others and standing tall for herself.

When she did something well, I was careful to be specific with my praise using words and phrases that endorsed qualities like strength, intelligence and understanding. 

I desperately wanted this growing little girl to know she could be and do anything.

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Sally. Pink Hat. Throwing like a girl. Playing in a skirt. 

How often do we still hear these terms used to describe deficiencies in male athletes or fans who lack knowledge? 

On the surface, these phrases seem harmless. At the core, they perpetuate stereotypes that women are weak and inferior to our male counterparts. 

Trust me, I fall into the trap of using demeaning language. For example, describing an upset athlete as “whining like a little girl” has been ingrained in most of us for decades. But nothing is permanent. 

We can change attitudes and perceptions with a slight shift in how we speak. 

Do we need to call a guy a “Sally” or say a team “might as well have worn skirts”? Why not be a little more creative and use our words wisely? If an athlete doesn’t play well, why not explain their performance as “poor, sad, unacceptable, dreadful, atrocious, awful, garbage, shaky, anemic, powerless, weak, etc . . . ” Shall I go on? 

Do we have to describe inept fans as “pink hats” or could we simply call them . . . inept? How about ill-informed, bumbling, or incompetent? 

The reality is, there is a term for when we use female adjectives to relay a message of weakness: Lazy. 

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Five years after the birth of my niece, my sister delivered a bouncing baby boy. Any fears I had about my ability to love them both equally was swept away the first time I held his tiny, perfect, half-asleep little boy in my arms. I was once again overcome by a love I never thought possible. 

It was also the first time I realized the way I convey messages leaves an impression not just on the women in my life, but also the men. 

When we criticize men for showing emotion, or belittle them for falling short, the message we send is that males need to show perpetual strength while avoiding feelings. This only works to drive home the idea that women are to act one way, men another.

If you've ever been around children, you know that while they tend to gravitate towards certain toys and activities, it's often because those are the only choices they see or hear. I’d like to think that by displaying a multitude of options to my niece and nephew, they're perceiving the possibility of a world without limits based on gender. 

Women are not inherently weak, men are not automatically strong. Women are not born inferior, men do not emerge into this world superior. Women are not all followers just as all men are not leaders. We're each capable of what we believe is possible.

So let’s stop talking as though the only truths are those which we’ve spoken in the past.