My mother was a remarkable athlete. She excelled in baseball to the point where she caught the attention of a major league scout who mistakenly believed the talented “Jo Young” was a boy. The scout lamented to her coach that if only she were male, he would have snatched her up instantly. She was a brilliant shortstop, capable of hitting home runs from a crouched position and catching with the skill of a seasoned pro.
Beyond baseball, she was also a dancer, showcasing grace and coordination that allowed her to pick up intricate choreography effortlessly. In our military community, she could outrun, outplay, and even outbox every boy in the neighborhood. More than just a talented athlete, she was an exceptional coach, guiding misfits to victory through a blend of encouragement, practice, and insight.
Then Came Me
Bless her heart.
I entered this world with less coordination and athletic talent than anyone in my family. After years of athletic triumphs, my mother shifted from being a player to a nurse, treating the sprains, fractures, and other injuries I accumulated through my daily adventures.
My mother once confessed her fears about raising a daughter. Despite her rough-and-tumble background, she worried about helping a girl discover her worth. What if her child preferred dolls and pink?
In truth, I embraced every bit of traditional femininity I could find. I immersed myself in pink, sparkles, and all things girly. If it lacked glitter, I was ready to remedy that. My mother may not have known how to navigate my world, but she never let it show. She celebrated my interests and worked tirelessly to nurture my strengths while gently addressing my weaknesses.
By the time I turned 13, my mother had all but given up on my athletic potential. My most noteworthy achievement in junior high softball was accidentally catching a pop fly and then sitting on third base, unsure of what to do next.
Despite my lack of athletic prowess, my mother continued to coach me in life. It wasn’t until I became a parent myself that I truly grasped the mental resilience required to guide a child toward their best self. My mother may not have understood how to shape her unique daughter, but she devoted herself to studying me, identifying my potential.
She enrolled me in college-level literature courses, organized museum trips, and facilitated voice lessons and fashion shows. While I insisted on trying ice skating, tennis, and dance classes—each ending in falls or mishaps—she was always there, patiently driving me to the ER and redirecting me toward my true talents.
She valued what I loved, reflecting my worth back to me. She nurtured my individuality with unwavering support and approached my athletic failures with such love that I never feared defeat. My mother taught me that losing isn’t failure; failure is not having the courage to play.
A New Generation
Now, as a parent to a son, I marvel at his natural athleticism. He is more coordinated and physically aware than both his father and me combined. Though my expertise lies in literature, fashion, and the arts, I recognize that the world of sports has its own language and rules.
What I learned from my mother is that being a good parent means recognizing and cultivating your child’s innate abilities, nurturing their growth with understanding and support. It requires your dedication to practice, patience, and intelligence.
My son is fortunate to have my mother as a resource in developing his athletic skills. When he began playing coach-pitch baseball, my mother took the reins at home. After just one week of her guidance, he returned to practice, astonishing his coaches.
“Son?” his coach called out, bewildered. “Who taught you that? Your dad?”
With a grin, he replied, “My grandma taught me!”
My son plays like a girl. Like a remarkable 73-year-old woman. Even today, coaches still mistake my mother’s extraordinary abilities for those of a man. But I can confidently say that no coach compares to my incredible Jo Young, whose dedication proves that a devoted parent can nurture both artists and athletes alike.
Further Reading
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In summary, this narrative illustrates that parenting is about recognizing and nurturing the unique talents of your child, whether they lie in sports or the arts, and that true success comes from encouragement and support.