Do you have the grace to be a sporting parent?

8 Ways to do it better

I attended a minor hockey game this weekend and watched a young referee lose his temper because of all the arm chair reffing. I wanted to weep for the poor referee – who was really conscientiously trying his very best.

Many thoughts crossed my mind but; much to my shame I remained silent, because as one of only three parents on the team that are not part of the management committee of the team it hardly seemed my place to comment. I also know I would not be heard. and one of the parents had threatened because I had previously blogged about his behavior. I did not name names the fact that ihse recognized himself leaves me shaking my head. The league sent a blanket memo to parents regarding this behavior. The only people to apologize were of course the parents not responsible.

One of the worst offenders remained silent, the other used the “let he who is without sin cast the first stone” defense, followed by sidways glances at one another and a deafening silence.

Admittedly I have yelled and even banged the glasses to get a referee’s attention this year, my purpose was to point out that there was an injured player down behind the play. While I am not without sin, I can honestly say without fear of being contradicted I have never yelled a negative comment to a coach or player – I will not go so far as to say that I have not made a negative comment to a ref, coach or player. I have commented to the person sitting beside me, to my husband or niece and perhaps I have been overheard by someone with big ears, but if they were listening to my comment they were not yelling at the players or referee’s so mission accomplished.

Okay – here is what I know – I have both coached and participated in team sports; so I am not a complete maroon when I say this. 8 things to contemplate before decided to go all Gordon Ramsey in the stands.

1. All children – and we are all someone’s child – will stop, hesitate, pause even for the briefest second at the sound of their parent’s voice raised. In competitive sports that second can be a game changer.

2. As a parent/spectator in the stands – you have NO idea what advice or instruction your child has been given by the coach. That failing to move into the play, or hanging back may be what your child was told to do. Contradicting the coach is setting your child up to fail because in a choice between disappointing your coach who is going to yell at you for 10 minutes after the game; or disappointing a parent who will grill you potentially for hours – Be very honest what would you choose?

3. You paid a lot of money to have someone else to coach your child – let them do their job. If you don’t like the way they do their job I am sure they would be happy to offer you the oppertunity to do their job, give it a shot – seriously.

4. Yelling at the referee’s – I am guessing that your hourly pay rate is at least twice what the referee is making. If someone criticized you in the aggressive, loud and public way, or in simple terms – the way you do, how would you respond? I am going to go out on a limb and say you probably would not look at the red faced, neck vain straining person yelling at you and say “Thank you so much for pointing out my mistake, I think you might have a point”. But I am only speculating.

5. What is the purpose of yelling hostile things at the referee? They hold the fate of the game in their hands. Their opinion of your child and mine, that they have never met, is almost soley based on the brief interations they have on the ice, and the behavior of their parents in the stands. – You disagree with that statement? The adage “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” is not a physics lesson. If you as a group of parents have a reputation for being loud- negative – beligerent referee’s are going to be beyond dilegent in calling the game and chances are it will not be your kid, or your kids team mates that are going to get the benifit of the doubt.

6. Again your child has a coach, and your childs team has a captian – not sure but I am pretty sure it is them and only them who have the legitamate right to question a call or lack of call. Let them do their job.

7. The kid your yelling at may be your own, but my kid is out there too. In the heat of the game he doesn’t alway hear you yell your child’s name, he just hears you yelling, angrily. – Over the course of many years of being a hockey mom I have had to explain WAY too much inappropriate parental behavior.

8. It takes as much effort to yell encouragement as it does to toss critisism. Unfortunatly your harsh words uttered in haste, leave lasting marks.

As a final thought – if our kids went to a hockey game and no one was there to watch I can tell you exactly what would happen – at least for my son . In his head the stands would be full. Every game would be game 7 of the Stanely cup final and he would go out there and play the game of his life. I know this is true because I stand in my kitchen every night and watch the scenario unfold, over and over and over again. It used to happen all the time, but since parents have gotten louder, and the word have gotten harsher his dreams have become doubts, and fears.

He asks regularly if your son if going to be in trouble because of the outcome of the game and the comments he heard you make. He doesn’t know the rhythme of your family, nor does he know what is acceptable banter for you and your child – he just hears your angry words and blames himself too much for outcomes he is not soley responsible for.

He is willing to take responsiblity for his actions, he’s 12.

Will you?

October 7, 2025 0

Your A Goalie – You got this.

“Being Goalie is the toughest job on the team. It means you agree to take responsibility for everyone else’s mistakes. If the puck is in front of your net it means the offence has turned it over, and the defence weren’t paying attention. If you stop them from scoring you are indeed a hero – if you don’t and they score a one timer – well your just as human as your team mates. If they score on you off a rebound you are still a rock star because you never gave up; even when your team mates gave up on themselves. When I stand at your end of the ice and I listen to all the parents from the opposing team cheer when you are having the worst game ever; know it breaks my heart. Every time someone scores on you I will put my hand on the glass and you can know I am giving you a hug. I will love you more when you are having a bad game because even if no one else notices – I see how hard you are working and I am very proud of you. I love you when you are having a good game too – but when you are having a good game you know that.
So go out there and be a wall. and when you need a hug look at me and I will touch the glass.”

As a Goalie Mom I have walked into opposing dressing rooms of teams we wiped out and told their goalie how hard he worked and how proud he should be of his effort. There are two games going on. On most days when your team is having their worst day the goalie can still have his best game ever because he stopped more shots than he did last game. It is the losses that make you a better goalie, not the wins. The losses challenge you to push yourself farther than you thought you could. When your team is having a good game chances are as a goalie you are bored and not improving your skills.

So play your game, judge your success by your yardstick – let your only opponent be you – at your last game. Do not let anyone define your success – because on a day you team wins by a landslide you know in your heart it certainly wasn’t your best game. In fact you probably could have stayed home. When your team loses in a landslide, goes into overtime, or wins by 1 goal – you know you gave it everything you had and a little bit more. You took on your team mates failures as your own and fought with everything you had that day. Those are your best games, those are the times you showed the world you will not be defeated no matter what – because you are a goalie!

September 18, 2025 0

Crime and Punishment or Treatment and Support

Part V – I’m Ranted out

What is the change I believe would make the difference?

Portugal pioneered the decriminalization of drugs across the board. They have removed the stigma and view users and people with a health problem, not addicts who are a problem. Until 1974 Portugal was under under the rule of an Autocrat. The policies and laws of the land were stringent, arbitrary and often ridiculous.

After the revolution in 1974 the freedom that comes with democracy was knee buckling. The rutter that steered the ship of reason and societal norms. The Roman Catholic church was ill prepared and itself becoming mired in it own scandals. With little credibility and even less authority the church was impotent to fill the void of moral authority left by the fall of the fallen tyrant.

People under autocratic rule for generations expect democracy to to boldly prance in on a white stallion, toss out golden wishes and butterfly dreams. The freedom of democracy hard won from a tyrant is a mirage. To often Democracy stumbles in drunk,high, tattered, whispering sweet, sweet promises into every pretty girls ear. Democracy the red headed step child of freedom, and all too often has Adam Smith’s invisible hand of economics in its back pocket.

Freedom then breezes in with its infomercial on what you get, and you can have, and make all your neighbours jealous as you drive in your brand new McLaren. Eyes glaze over, smiles bright enough to speed up global warming by a decade break across the doe eyed faces of the newly emancipated.

Wait for it – can you hear the thunder? Did the ground just tremor under your feet. Jaws drop, doe eyes and wonder become fear and terror. Yes, Yes there he is with his santa sack filled with fear, sorrow, regret and responsibility. Reality arrives, ham fisted, blind and angry. Unlike Freedom tossing out unicorns promises on candy floss clouds . Reality stomps in elbows out hurling, responsibility, burden, and obstacles at everyone like Krewes throw beads at Mardi Gras. Reality tears off the rose coloured glasses fairness, self determination and freedom handed out with both hands under autocracy.

Democracy is a trojan horse. Most often it is hiding the wormhole chaos and chaos’es vacuum . Without experience, boundaries or a mature and experienced legislative body the people of Portugal struggled. Drug use and abuse skyrocketed, as the golden roads didn’t materialize. I in every hundred people were using Heroine. (https://transformdrugs.org/assets/files/PDFs/Portugal-drugs-decriminalisation-facts.pdf). Aids, Hepatitis and overdose deaths were overwhelming the health care system, courts and jails. Portugal rates of use and abuse outcomes were 6 times as high as other European countries (Ibid).

By 2002 the number were increasing exponentially. The system could take no more. A wise and empathetic person/people recognised that they didn’t have a ephemeral problem that could be punished out of existance. This was not a coup d’etat attempt corroding the fabric of their society. Drugs were not an abstraction, poisoning there democratic Portugal. They had a people problem. They had sick, stressed and struggling people who were normalizing drug use as a stress release for the next generation. Jails and mortuaries were filling with people with problems both mental and physical as a result of their drug use and abuse.

Punishing the result was not going to cure or ebb the problem. The problem kept in the closet would only become more tempting, and continue to multiple. The Unorthodox was proposed and Portugal move drug use from the judicial system to the health care system. Over night carrying and using any drug was no longer a criminal offense. The money that was once spent on enforcement and incarceration was diverted into the Health care and education systems for diversion and harm reduction. Initially their was a reported increase use of drugs. I would suggest that taking away the stigma and punishment aspects simply made people more honest.

The results have made a differnce: See the figure below:

Figure 1.1

Image in benefits we could derive by focusing the 60% dollar reduction in health care costs into harm reduction, education and research. Think about the savings of cutting incarceration the money could be focused on pursing other crimes like property crimes that are often reported but rarely investigated because insurance has the victim covered. Imagine the boost in your personal self worth by being valued, heard, and offered treatment and support. What a difference that would make.

Oregon adopted the Poragula model and after 3 years it was deemed a failure. First of all it took a generation before Portugal recognized results that made heads turn and jaws drop. Not to mention in Portugal it was a national initiative. Pursuing support for your addiction by moving to a State in your own country is easy. Oregon would naturally attract a higher percentage of people want to or having to use drugs. Being a National initiative meant you didn’t have to move you were supported where you were. Citizenship or Visas are much harder to get and a genuine commitment to hours, weeks, and months of paperwork and red tape.

In Portugal it remains illegal to sell drugs, but using them is perfectly acceptable. I would encourage anyone to review further the the Portugal model and think critically about what we have to lose if we try it; vs what we are losing everyday, month and year. We continue to beat this horse with the same stick. I proffe its time to find an new horse, and try kindness not a bigger stick.

August 15, 2025 0

Embracing Unseen Strength: Lessons from Life’s Journey

I haven’t always been quiet. I haven’t always wanted to be unseen. At some point I discovered that mountains can be moved in the silence, and usually it is the unseen hand that changes the world. As I approach one of those milestone birthdays; and having left a toxic situation I have been reflecting on what I have done and where I am going. Have I achieved my goals? Have I made things better? Who have I hurt? Am I doing what needs to be done? What do I regret? What can I do to minimize my regrets? Do I have amends to make? What have I missed?

As I have been reflecting I have realized there are many odd things I don’t know about myself. I don’t know if I was pretty. I certainly wasn’t one of the popular girls, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you are flawed or have a face and a body only a parent could love. I was raised by older parents so both my reference base and conversational choices were not generally things like “Isn’t Leif Garret just dreamy? ” they often were topics like “Can you believe fundamentalists have ousted the Shah and taken over Iran? How are all those women going to deal with the return to the stone age?” My family owned one of the towns major industries and my father was a once in a lifetime boss. You wanted to work for him. I never “had” to wear hand-me downs. Everything I had for the most part was new. I had a pony. I believed renting was a lifestyle choice, not a necessity. I didn’t realize I had a “place” a box I was supposed to fit into.

I didn’t know we were rich. I was continually told that we were poor, look at the Doctor look at the Lawyer. It never occured to me to think about the stories of scrimping and saving and question why they were all 30+ years old. It never occured to me that Hawaiian vacations were luxuries. New vehicles every year were the status quo in my world and if you hung on to a vehicle longer than two years it was because A. it was or was going to be a classic or B. you just really liked it. I didn’t know most people took out loans to buy vehicles and houses my dad alway just wrote a cheque. I knew nothing else.

While I can see why in many ways I was not wildly popular I don’t know if I was pretty. Pretty was not a value to be sought after. You couldn’t be pretty and smart you had to be one or the other. Pretty was one of the deadly sins. – Vanity. After university at my first “professional” job. I was in a bar enraged at a study that made the news saying pretty women were more often hired than their less aesthetically pleasing equally or better qualified sisters, As I, with venom in my voice and rage in my heart, ended my soap box argument, My boss looked at me and said ” Why are you so wound up about this, you are always going to have the advantage. Why are you arguing against your own interest?” I stood there with my mouth hanging open for two reasons 1. I am clearly arguing for what is right and good why would you not be as passionate about it as I am? Answer – he is a man and an a Ph.D this was trivia to him. 2. Was he implying I might be considered pretty? I was 27 years old at this point and the possibility had never occurred to me. I finally stammered.”What do you mean?” He said “you are pretty you will win”. My composed response was to break into a loud and ugly cry, in a neighbourhood pub and run to the bathroom. I managed to convince myself that he only said that because he wanted to sleep with me, I was smart, not pretty. The poor man was at a loss as what to do. He apologized and walked me to my car. He went back in paid the bill and left embarrassed as everyone glared at him- wondering what that mean old man might have done to that young women.

I won’t go on with ridiculous story after ridiculous story. From this more evolved and experianced side of my life here is what I know about my flaws and misunderstandings. The reason I would rather be unseen, the reasons I allow others to take my limelight. It was pointed out to me recently I have done amazing things, I have changed my part of the world for the better, and in a few instances I really have made a global difference. I have spent a lifetime doing without reflecting, because there is always one more mountain to climb, no time to stop and pat myself on the back – that would be slothful and arrogant.

I have believed that Humiliation was kindness and support.

Other things I have believed my whole life and only now am I able to really look and ponder –

Embarrassment for arrogance

Jealousy for love. or for my lack of ability

Silence for scorn or again my causing embarrassment to someone else.

Family for love and safetly.

Marriage for safety, love, and support.

Being notice for arrogance.

Being recognized for achievement was a moral failure

Poverty for lack of desire.

Independence for being unlovable

Tanacity was cruelty

Openness a cry for attention

Compassion was simply arrogance.

Today I own I have done great things, I have made a difference, I have changed lives, I have never given up I will no longer allow anyone else to calibrate my moral compass. I have made I life I am proud of. I do not want a parade or public proclamations. I don’t need anyone to tell me they are proud of me. I am proud of me. The air in the room does shift when I walk in without anyone knowing why – which is my great advantage. I have made peace with quietly accepting that I can make a difference and be great just for me no one needs to validate that.

I don’t have to fit into a box.

I don’t do what I do to be honour or rewarded. I do what I do because it brings me joy. To be able to tell the unseen, the unappreciated, and often the unwanted they make a difference, they are seen. How can they believe they truly do if I stand in there light and declare they matter because I said so. Absolutely that strokes my ego it changes nothing but your own personal hat size.

To have your hand on enough levers that you can tilt a playing field in favour of invisible, disenfranchised and disenchanted, to watch someone from afar and see them take their space, claim their identity and purpose; it is a transformative experience. I realize it was easy to make me believe I wasn’t doing it right, I wasn’t. Like Don Quixote I was chasing the accolades not the outcomes. To be genuine you need to be willing to remain unseen.

The applause with never be loud enough to fill the belly of the beast called Ego. Seeing a shadow become a fully realized valued member of their community. To see them embrace themselves and recognize their value is worth taking a moment to appreciate. It may leave ego hungary but your heart will burst with pride as you watch them take their place at the table. Ego won’t starve and Ego will find itself healthier for having missed a meal or two.

The irony all the erosion and dismissal of my achievements made me work harder, take bigger risks to try to be enough. The more I accomplished the farther away approval got. The less I reflected or appreciated that I had moved a big piece of that mountain the more Ego would tell me. “You didn’t do the work you just had the idea”. However, the idea was the work, or it is work that if I had done it the problem wouldn’t have been solved. Or ” It’s not like that was your idea, you just did the work.” As long as you look in someone else’s mirror you will alway be failing. Build your own box and quietly polish your own mirror, calibrate your own compass and every 60 years or so take a minute to appreciate what you have done.

June 26, 2025 0

In the Dark

Hard times make us or break us. While I believe I have seen more than my fair share of struggle and hard times. I know there is always going to be someone with a sadder story, a darker past – someone who has lost more suffered more. Someone whose life and karma have never been fair to. I also know my hard is a first world hard and largely of my own design. How do we deal when the world is stacked against us. How do we cope when everything seems to want to see us fail, to break our spirit?

I seem to be a lightning rod for sad stories and a safe port in a storm for many. If you have fallen on hard times – ask anyone who knows me – they will give you my number and I will do what I can. Over the years it has cost me dearly – emotionally, financially I have even lost friendships and reputation to people who frankly wound up not being worth the effort. However, I believe if I don’t try, if the world turns its back on potential, who knows what we have lost. Sometimes, at least for me, it just took the right person at the right time to offer me the slimmest of threads of hope. With that; just that tiny light I could muster the courage to carry on.

In my darkest times I promise myself that if I can just get through the next minute, then 5, then 15, then 30 and so on; then I would be okay. Sometimes the dark lasts a day, sometimes a week, often months and once nearly a decade. I kept putting one foot in front of the other, I kept promising myself hope was just around the next corner.

During my decade of struggle I had to push hard to make things happen. The economy was in the toilet, jobs were few and far between, at most I seemed to manage contract work and campaign work. I loved the work however, being a woman of child bearing years finding steady employment was a slog. For the first 4 years they would ask at interviews if I had children. About year 5 PC (politically correct) came into play – Sheila Copps passed a bill extending maternity leave and people were not able to ask about your children or desire to have them. At this point women between 20 and 40 were merely viewed with suspicion. Every part of me was scrutinised, I forgot to take off a necklace that had indeed been an invasion gift, I referred to my unborn children as aliens – as I felt a bit like John Hurt in the movie. The interviewer told me my necklace was beautiful and asked if it had been a gift. Of course still having “baby brain” and being a very proud first time mom I said yes and explained why I got it. Needless to say the job went to a less qualified man about my age.

Times have changed – and things have gotten better but between postpartum, a terminally angry and entitled partner who measured everything in dollars and cents and being sidelined for propagating the race; I feel fortunate to have survived.

It was not all darkness, like I said there was always that one person who at the right time would offer me that thread of hope. When my partner got left holding the bag for two big contracts that were unpaid, and a bill at a supplier store was charged in his name; It was a professor who admired me that offered my financial assistance. A stranger in a dog park, who offered to train my husband in a different line of work and sell him the company. A friend who would show up everyday and make me walk, myself, my child and my dog. A group of teenage girls who I had read to everyday for the previous 6 years who organised a child care schedule so at least once a week I could sleep as long as I needed to without having to get up with a crying child.

A former boss who always managed to call when I was about to be crushed by an unforgiving system and would open the doors to let me plead my case and usually win.

Eventually tides began to turn, however there were many hard lessons to learn. Like no matter how brilliant I am. I am not a great employee in a big system. I worked as a political organiser from the time I was 15 years old – that is a whole other story. With my politics and where I live that often meant you got a big title, but no minions. Until I had children I was a sought after organiser and right up to and including 9/11 I was working. However that campaign made me realise my days as an organiser were done. The candidate, the tactics crossed into territory and were so ultra conservative I could not believe I was there, certainly my personal politics did not condon the messaging. I had become a political slut.

Thus began some of my darkest times. That is when you realise that while History and Russian literature are fascinating and make you a delight at a cocktail party, partisan political experience, while good for the soul, is not really good on the resume. There were entire years where I had to force myself to put out one resume a week. I could not handle the rejection of putting out more. It truly was a struggle and often soul crushing. My mental health was circling the drain. I lost my belief in myself, I lost hope that I would ever find my path. I dreamed of a big life and instead all I could see was drudgery and being a little and meaningless cog in a big wheel.

It was in all that darkness that I finally accepted that perhaps I would never be Secretary General of the UN, or negotiate peace in the Middle East. While working in rural communities at an environmental conference I met a man whose entire 40 year career had been simply to negotiate water rights on the Nile river. Each and every time he had gotten all the agreements signed, a war, a coup or the formation of an entirely new country would nullify everything and he would have to start over. I talked to him about how frustrating it must be never to achieve even a single step forward in your career. His response was that he may never be able to win the race but he has created the path. The next person will find the road a little easier and perhaps they will find the solution simply because he made the maps.

It was then I realised that demanding and expecting that I deserved the brass ring and all the gold and glory that come with it was perhaps not what I was destined for. I may never be the trailblazer that is recorded in the annals of history or the first woman to… But maybe just maybe I could clear the path for that woman, or my son’s. Perhaps I can whisper in her ear – “Just keep going Dear I believe in you.” It is not always conquering Everest that makes you admired and appreciated – it is more often being the person who said to Sir Edmond Hillary – why of course you can climb Everest. I know you can do it, don’t be discouraged you have what it takes.

Hope, and success don’t always come with a marching band leading a ticker tape parade in your honour. Hope and accomplishment are not always the throne or your name in the record books. Accomplishment can be simply being the person who believes in the person who will stumble upon the big prize. Not necessarily because they are looking but because you believed.

Once I let go of the hubris and accepted my greatest accomplishment might be giving my two sons the courage to pursue their passions and embrace themselves. Everything began to change. Everything that I had been chasing- suddenly started chasing me.

May 2, 2024 0