Like any other sixteen year old, I was under a little bit of pressure to get a job after turning sixteen. As an aspiring teacher, I've never been one to seek out a higher-paying job over a job that would make me happy. At the time I was a competitive dancer at a dance studio/gymnastics center combo, and when the job of "cheer coach" became available, I practically begged the gym manager for the spot. She probably gave it to me more out of desperation than desire, but still - I had the job. I wasn't exactly qualified - I had been the test dummy when both of my older sisters were cheerleaders, and I had taken one tumbling/stunting class at a local cheer gym. After that, I'd only danced competitively for not quite a year. That was March. In May, the two girls in the class did a cute little performance to "California Girls" by Katy Perry that I choreographed and cut the music for myself, thank you very much, but no one wanted to take cheer over the summer, so I shadowed a more experienced coach as she coached preschool gymnastics. I continued to coach during the school years and work as a camp counselor in the summers until I graduated from high school. I went into college thinking I would focus on studies and not get a job, but by October, I was going nuts not having a job - so I sought out a local gym and contacted them about an application. I filled one out on the spot and the owner was there to review it. As she read it, her face seemed less than enthused. I didn't think she would hire me - and why should she? Here I was, some barely experienced preschool through Level 2 coach trying to compare myself to her amazing staff. That gym was like nothing I'd seen. It was running like a well-oiled machine. Every coach seemed engaged with their class, every kid was doing something and looked like they were actually learning. Surprisingly, she did hire me. I trained with some amazing coaches that I still credit with teaching me a good portion of my knowledge of gymnastics. I've been coaching there ever since, with the exception of summers and one spring semester my sophomore year in which I was an RA. Prior to that spring, I thought she was going to "fire" me. And by "fire" I mean not put me on the schedule for the next semester. I was doing my best, but I still felt like I wasn't cutting it compared to other coaches. She wasn't planning on doing anything of the sort, and I felt really bad that she had to re-do the schedule.
Now we're at the beginning of my junior year of college. I had been planning on only babysitting as my "job", until that same gym owner texted asking if I could please work just one night a week (which is all I had ever been able to work for her). I agreed, and I ended up staying that entire academic year and have recently returned and will coach during this, my final year of college. At first I was pleased that she wanted me back - but then I realized that she didn't necessarily want me, she just needed another coach. Still - I thought - if she didn't like me, she would have just hired someone else.
Do you see the pattern here? I've been coaching gymnastics for the better part of five years and still doubt myself. Quite literally all the time. I spend hours scouring gymnastics websites for new drills or coaching tips, but I feel like they never work for me or my students. I once spent over a month staying late after work to learn skills I was supposed to be teaching my students so that I could see it from their perspective - a problem almost no other coach I've met has had, as they're all former gymnasts or a parent of a gymnast. I feel a personal sense of failure whenever a student doesn't move up a level when I know they have the potential to. I was recently asked to sub for our pre-team program, and I was so. freaking. nervous. Even as I coached, I felt so clueless. The girls corrected me when I took them to bars, because I didn't know that they only do two events per class (because they practice twice a week). Even worse, one of the events they do on Friday's was vault, my worst event. Thankfully, the girls were super good sports about the whole thing and told me what they were working on. At the end of class, a mom thanked me for doing such a great job. Then, I ran into her and her daughter at Target the next day, and she thanked me again. It made me feel good, but not good enough to feel like I'm worth anything as a gymnastics coach.
Maybe, just maybe, this is a good thing. Maybe it's because of this mentality that I'm always trying (but seemingly failing) to be a better coach, to make sure every kid is getting their money's worth.
Also, these past five years have been a roller coaster, but I've loved every minute of it. I may be the definition of "those who can't do, coach" but it's now a title I wear happily - because taking that job now seems like a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I am so, so glad that I took it.
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