Compassion v. Competition in Gym Class

I'm a competitive person. I'm in a competitive profession and I've played competitive sports for the majority of my life. I've always seen competition as a healthy means to achieving some self confidence and, quite frankly, as a fundamental aspect of my personality. I have never been comfortable with the idea that boys are somehow inherently more competitive than girls, but a recent event did give me some reason to pause here.

I signed my three year old up for a sports clinic in an effort to drain him of some of energy during the week. The brochure told me the kids would be introduced to a new sport each week, and as a bona fide sports-lover I was sold. First they'd play soccer, then they'd play floor hockey, before moving on to basketball, flag football, and tumbling. The reality is it's just a glorified gym class with some poor young physical trainer-in-training at the helm, trying to organize ten kids ages three through six into some semblance of group cooperation. Whatever it is, it gives mommy one hour a night where my little dude can blow off some steam and all I have to do is watch.

The class is comprised of nine little boys and one girl, and the girl in this class is easily one of the most athletic kids there. That fact alone made me love her. Anyways, last week the kids were playing a version of duck, duck goose, but since it was soccer night they were playing soccer player, soccer player, goalie. I'll admit I was twitching a little bit at this game, and it was all I could do not to run on to the court and explain that goalies are soccer players, but I let it go.

It's pretty apparent at this clinic which kids are the older, more athletic of the bunch, and which ones, well, are not. And I'll come right out and say that in this group my kid is one of the little dudes.

During this simple little gym class for pre-schoolers, one of life's universal truths unfolded. The big kids kept choosing the other big kids to chase (including our only girl), while this whole group of little dudes, mine included, just sat eagerly waiting for one of those cool big dudes to pick them. The trainer-in-training picked up on this right away and she made a couple comments to the group about how they needed to make sure everyone got a turn. These comments went ignored by the all of the big kids except the girl. As soon as she was picked she ran around and tapped the chubbiest, most awkward kid in the group and shouted "GOALIE!"

Well, he gave chase and, like all nerdy kids before they are broken, chose one of the big kids as goalie because even at the young age of three the camps are drawn between those who are athletes and those who are not, and those who pine to be included in that group and those who will probably reject them. Not to be deterred, the teacher again told the kids to make sure everyone had a turn and again, as soon as the girl was chosen she picked another little dude to make sure everyone got to participate.

I'll admit that I was troubled by her choice, and equally troubled by my reaction. I love this little girl because she consistently out-maneuvers the boys and is quite simply one of the best athletes of the bunch. To the extent these little kids are "competing" she is doing so without the benefit of adjusted times, lowered expectations, all of those gender markers that plagued my gym classes, competitive sports, professional life, and the world of professional athletics for women. So when she was the only kid consistently trying to include everyone in their game of chase, and when the moms all looked at each other, grinned and said "of course its the girl who picks him" I thought that maybe we were teaching her and the other kids a bad lesson. Don't misunderstand, I am all for inclusion, especially at such a young age and when the whole purpose of an activity is just to have fun. But didn't we send a signal to the other boys that this was not their issue- that they could just go on in their "eat what you kill" world because inevitably, and obviously, the girl who could hang with them would take the responsibility of making sure societal expectations (in this case, the teacher's request that everyone get to play) were met? And what about all of us that were not surprised in the least bit that it was the girl who made cooperation possible? Isn't she just playing right into that expectation, even if it wasn't specifically articulated?

I also found myself concerned that I was irritated at her choice to try and please her teacher because, for some reason, it seemed to knock her down a peg in the group. By showing her empathy and compassion, she was relegating a bit of her competition. She slowed down her run to let the chubby kid catch her and didn't chose a kid because it would be fun, but because she was meeting an expectation. Why couldn't we just let her compete like all the other boys?

Of course, this is just little kids gym class, so there is part of me that needs to step back and get a grip. But I see this same dynamic play out everyday in my work. I'm chosen to deal with certain clients because I can empathize with them, a skill I'm proud of but not one that has earned me a lot of respect among the dudes writing my checks. Or, I'm placed on a case where it is important to create an certain image, like, see, my client can't be a sexually harassing asshole because he hired a woman to defend him. And the women I see who are truly successful in a litigation practice have turned those empathetic skills off completely- they have emasculated themselves in some sort of gender suicide because of this crazy notion that competition is inherently male.

So where does that leave us? At what point do we tell the dudes that it is their responsibility to meet those expectations that everyone get included because the girls aren't going to do it for them anymore? And can the girls do that without getting lost in that Lord of the Flies ethos that dominates pop culture constructions of masculinity? Trust me, this is not the last post here on the topic.