Guest Editorial: One Team Woven From a Single Thread – Including Transgender, Non-Binary and Queer Swimmers

Team-huddle-March2020 - Teammates

One Team Woven From a Single Thread: Including Transgender, Non-Binary and Queer Swimmers

By Kerri Nicole McCaffrey – Guest Editorial

“Diversity (in USA Swimming) is an issue right now…we need to develop coaching and athlete heroes that are of a diverse nature so that we can attract those athletes more into the program and go from there.” (Former USA Swimming President and Berkeley Aquatic Club founder, Jim Wood, 2006).

In this recent series of guest editorials which I have written for Swimming World Magazine, I’ve tried to be as honest as possible about who I am as a person and as a swimmer. Here is more honesty: I have felt I was a female since the age of 7–in third grade. By fifth grade, it was a “done deal” in my soul, and I wondered why no one else could figure out that I felt this way. By sixth grade, I was suffering intensely with my transgenderism—and that summer Renée Richards (the transsexual tennis player) began her legal battle to play in the U.S. Open. After a year-long fight—on September 1, 1977–Richards played against the highly ranked Virginia Wade and lost in straight sets. The match was ubiquitous in the news cycle.

So by age 12, I had a name for how I felt—I was a transsexual, and it looked pretty hopeless for me to ever be able to tell anyone that I was so different; I sensed the terrible taboo. By my teen years, drinking followed—heavily—to numb the pain, as well as a rehab stint, while I was still that same teen.

I wasn’t functioning well and my coach at the time, Jim Wood, had high standards which I obviously could not meet. There were signs everywhere that I was different, but the signs were leading everyone back to the symptom—my drinking, not to being transsexual—as it was referred to at the time. I drank to manage the inner pain.

After high school, I didn’t see Jim much but “pulled it together” enough to stay in touch. At age 23, he invited me to return for a final summer season; I wanted to get back in shape and was in recovery by then. As I stepped tentatively onto the deck at the old Berkeley Aquatic Club pool, he shouted playfully: “Welcome back, old man!” I was so grateful to be invited back—clear headed and sober. I made every practice that summer (about 140 of them) until the Thursday before we were to fly to Zones in Pittsburgh. A terrible stomach flu prevented me from attending the last taper practice. I called Jim and wished him and the team luck, as they had a flight out of Newark the next morning.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s bad, Jim. I am so sick,” I weakly blurted through tears.” I was so disappointed.

“Well, maybe it’s a 24-hour bug.” He responded with some optimism. “I’d like you to try and come to the airport in the morning and fly out with us. You are a part of us at this point and I think you owe it to yourself and to your teammates to try and swim.”

I did. The last meet in my USA Swimming career was with Berkeley Aquatic Club that summer of 1987. I was 23. My stomach felt like it was dragging on the pool bottom as I raced. Before my last event, the 200-meter breastroke, Jim sensed I felt like I was in trouble with the illness, but he wanted me to finish out this odyssey. He appeared from behind the blocks, put his arm around me and said more seriously: “You got this, old man.”

Jim Wood had multiple chances to exclude me in my swimming career. And while I was not part of the team when I was drinking and in the throes of the transgender struggle, I was accepted back when I recovered and began to be able to manage better.

While USMS has recently banned me and a handful of other trans female swimmers from competing as women—in my case even though I have lived as a female for 20 years—I don’t think Jim would have banned us. Would he have asked that we not swim in the female division? Yes, possibly—and that would have been a point of disagreement between us. But I don’t think—no, I know—that he would never have instituted a policy that painfully banned a group of people from full inclusion without first having a backup plan in place. Of that much I am sure.

So, how can we make our swim communities more inclusive? Clearly, we don’t ban a whole group from official competition. But let us go beyond the obvious. How can we retain our swimmers with differences—particularly our Transgender, Queer, and Non-Binary swimmers? How can we help them to thrive and make sure they feel like they are a part of our team culture in every sense?

Having served as  a high school and prep school swim coach, as well as an age-group coach, I know that our swimmers with differences—especially those who are Transgender, Non-Binary, and Queer—present themselves to us in ways that are often messy, but sometimes this is the best that they can muster at that moment: they perceive themselves to be different and sometimes struggle with this—often alone. One swimmer I had while coaching high school in New Jersey battled, as I once had, with alcohol and with staying sober. Others were transgender like I was and felt ostracized in school.

The  relationships these swimmers developed with me were important, and the relationships they had with teammates even more so. All of these swimmers were fully included in the life of the team—and it sometimes took extra work on the part of myself and the other coaches to make sure that my swimmer in alcohol recovery, for example, had a support network that helped her deal with some underlying issues while out in the community. It required a little extra attention to make sure that my transgender swimmers had leaders and captains on the team who could stress to their teammates that—no matter how they felt about transgenderism—exclusion was not an option.

At a recent Masters meet in the New Jersey/Philadelphia area, I had an ally on my side. “Jake,” I will call him, helped me to find private or gender neutral changing/bathroom accommodations. I was already very nervous about swimming in the meets and trying to swim well in my breaststroke events, and if I’d had to worry about where I was going to change to get ready for the meet—or about what bathroom I was going to use—it would’ve added a lot of pressure on me and I might have chosen not to compete. Because of “Jake,” my first few Masters’ meets back in the New Jersey/Philadelphia area were much more pleasant. Being an ally to someone who is a bit different can make all the difference in that person‘s daily life and in their trust of others. Be that ally.

At my new Masters team in NJ (I recently relocated from Central Pennsylvania), a few of the women on the team have done small things to include me—inviting me out to breakfast, adding me to the ladies’ texting group, including me in helpful conversations about which bathing suits last the longest (Jolyn, lol) and which ones are on sale. They cheered their heads off for me at our Last Chance meet this past May (I returned the favor), and always treat me with respect—like they would any other woman on the team.

For age-group coaches, especially in the older age groups, setting clear expectations that no intolerance will be tolerated is a great start toward full inclusion. Say it at your first team meetings. Even if you don’t seem to have any Transgender, Non-Binary, or Queer swimmers, set the expectation of inclusion early in the season. If a Trans, Non-Binary, or Queer swimmer then joins you mid-year, you have already discussed full inclusion with the group. The same expectations will also be helpful for swimmers who present to you with Tourette syndrome, chronic health issues, trauma—or those who might be in therapy because they cut themselves (perhaps instead of drinking) to numb their mental anguish. There will have to be a bit more education involved for the younger set who may have questions about a teammate’s differences, etc. (work with the child’s parents regarding this), but the expectation of we are “one team woven from a single thread” should persist. Don’t ever compromise on full inclusion. You will likely never lose that swimmer to another team.

Some coaches may say: “I treat all of my swimmers the same—no one gets special treatment here!” But that is not realistic with our Transgender, Non-Binary, and Queer swimmers. Why? Because even if you, as a coach, are treating all of your LGBTQIA+ athletes with respect and equality—trust me—the society in which they are traveling to you from, is not. Like it or not, they will bring some of this awful residue with them to the pool. Some are facing online bullying beyond what you might ever imagine (I am still on the receiving end of ugly online bullying and I am 20 years transitioned), struggles with physical violence at school, being ostracized—even at home. As Lady Gaga once said, “Trans people are not invisible. Trans people deserve love. The Queer community deserves to be lifted up.” If you have any of these athletes on your team—good for you. You should lift them up and LOVE IT!

Demonstrate “L.O.V.E.  I.T.” 

Listen to overhear what might be weighing heavily on a Trans, Non-Binary, or Queer swimmer before or after practice—or whenever you can.

Observe their behavior and interactions both when they are in the water, alone, or with their teammates. Trans, Queer and Non-Binary young people will often show their struggles through their posture or body language.

Value your conversations with your Transgender, Non-Binary, and Queer swimmers. You may be the first person they have felt safe around all day. Try extra hard to be in the moment with him, her or they/them. Honor their pronouns.

Empathize with your Trans, Queer, and Non Binary swimmer’s struggles where you can and let them know that while you may not understand all of what they are going through, you nevertheless are there for them. In a world where many in society “throw stones” at them—be their rock.

Invite them—or be sure their teammates are inviting them—to all the events which everyone else is going to.

Tell them often they are an important part of the team. You may not be in the habit of doing this with all of your other swimmers, but for a Trans, Non-Binary, or Queer swimmer, your words might be the very first time in their day they’ve been told they are actually a part of something.

Let us all strive to be our BEST selves—and help our Trans, Queer, and Non-Binary swimmers to become their TRUE selves:

“Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are.” Brene’ Brown