I could almost feel the heat from my partner rise as her anger built, her hand gripping mine ever tighter. But it was Dani who answered, evenly and with tremendous gravity in her quiet voice. “What she needs are parents who love her and accept her for who she is, the amazing person she is, instead of demonizing her over something she has no control over.”
Ms. Collins asked the next question. “And how did Coach Dalton advise you, Miss Williams?”
“She encouraged me to sound out my parents, to talk to anyone in my family that would be supportive. I don’t know how they’re going to react.” Her voice cracked as Dani turned towards her parents. “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you. I’m sorry.” Tears flowed down her face as her mother stood and moved towards her daughter. They embraced, Dani crying in her mother’s arms.
They moved away and sat down, the murmur rising sufficiently for the chairwoman to bang her gavel. “Quiet please.” She sighed. “I guess it’s time to get to the heart of the matter. Coach Dalton, would you please?” She motioned to the speaking area, and Sandy stood up, straightening her polo and making her way over.
“Coach, thank you for being here, I know this isn’t easy. Is it true that you advised Kaylin Ellis not to inform her parents of her sexuality?”
“Yes, in accordance with my understanding of the current thinking on that matter. None of my medical peers or anyone else would advise an LGBTQ minor to come out to their parents when they know they will face rejection. To do so would be foolishly reckless and dangerous.”
“We have the right to know!” Mary Ellis ignored the banging of the gavel. “If you didn’t have things to hide you would have told us.”
Sandy turned on her attacker, and Mary Ann’s face blanched. I knew exactly the look she was getting. “Your child’s safety trumps your ‘rights’.” Her voice was hard as steel. “LGBTQ children face stress every single day. They face ridicule and ostracism. They are four times more likely to attempt suicide than their straight peers, and it gets worse when they come from families who refuse to accept them. In that case, the results are better, more of those children survive,” she put intentional, harsh emphasis on the word, “when they do not come out until they have a measure of independence, when they are older and more emotionally stable, and able to stand up for themselves.” Sandy looked pointedly at Mrs. Ellis. “Forcing a child through conversion therapy doubles that suicide rate.”
“And you’re confident in that?”
“Not perfectly. Those are the statistics, but there is no one size fits all, no test to see what’s going to be best in a given case. No two people, families, or situations are the same. But given the same information, I would make the same recommendations. This is something that I’ve seen throughout my career, both in medicine and in hockey.
“I have been playing and coaching field hockey for over thirty years. I’ve been on countless teams, and I doubt there has ever been a single one that didn’t have lesbian players on it. Not including me, of course. And almost inevitably, the ones with supportive, loving, accepting families are more stable, happier and generally well adjusted. The ones without usually carry deep emotional scars.
“My sexuality is not important to my coaching. I don’t announce it or make it an issue. I doubt many straight coaches begin their first practice telling their teams that they are not gay, so I don’t see any reason why I should do the opposite. But I am not ashamed of who I am, or whom I love.” She looked at me and smiled. I returned her expression, pressing a hand to my heart. “I will not live in a closet so that you or anyone else can feel more comfortable about life.
“When I took this job I told everyone that I wanted two things, to turn out strong, confident young women, and to win. We’ve accomplished the second part, beyond everyone’s expectations. The first part is not possible unless these girls are confident in who they are, including their sexual identity. They have to be able to explore that, and they need to know that whatever they choose to identify as, there is a community, a family that supports them.”
Mary Ellis stood up, her voice unnaturally high. “See? She just admitted it! She’s a pedophile! She wants to sexualize our children!”
Sandy’s voice was hard and cold as granite, brooking no opposition. “Anyone who believes teenagers aren’t sexual beings has never been one themselves. Ignoring that simple biological fact is idiocy, not to mention recklessly dangerous.”
Before Mrs. Ellis could respond, Chairwoman Dobbin called for order. A younger, clean cut man, Hendon Smith by his placard, leaned forward. “That all may be true, but what concerns me is the relationship you have with one of your player’s mothers. That seems, well, suspect.”
“It’s how her daughter got the captaincy. They start ‘dating’, and suddenly Paige is captain.” As Renee Perry butted in, I looked at Adrienne, who hunched down, looking like she was trying to disappear into her chair.
Mr. Smith looked at Coach Dalton. “Is this true?”
“The captaincy was voted on by the players, and if I remember correctly it was nearly unanimous. I had nothing to do with it.”
Renee huffed and continued. “Look, we all know how predators operate. Get close to the parent so you can abuse the child. And given the inducement I’d say it’s prudent to be worried.”
I stood. “Councilman?” He nodded at me. “I’ve heard this before. Ever since my divorce people have told me that I’m not worthy of love; that no one could ever possibly want to be with me because of my weight. But being with Sandy has been the most wonderful, supportive, beautiful relationship I’ve ever had. She is the finest woman I’ve ever known. We had no intention of making our relationship public until after the season, unfortunately that became impossible thanks to Mrs. Perry’s snooping. None of you know Coach Dalton. I do, and I have no qualms about any of my children spending time with her. I think we, as a school, are stunningly lucky to have her coaching our girls. I’m so happy she’s my daughter’s coach.
“Paige has grown so much this year. She is more confident, happier, and I know a lot of that is due to Coach Dalton.” I let my gaze travel over the members of the board. “The only reason we are even here is that Renee Perry decided her daughter wasn’t being allowed to score enough, that she was being made to play as part of the team. Renee was so angry about this that she hired a private investigator to find something on Coach Dalton so she could get her fired. All she found was a photo of the coach and my daughter in an innocent hug, and the fact that Sandy and I are together.”
“How dare you? You have no proof of that!”
“You sent Principal Harrison the photos, so unless you were sitting outside my house yourself.” I shrugged.
“I did not, I had nothing to do with that.”
“Yes she did.” Adrienne stood up and stepped away from her mother. Her face was ghastly pale, but her voice was strong. “Everything Mrs. Pierson said is true. And if you, um if Coach gets fired or anything,” Adrienne took a deep breath, “I won’t play tomorrow.” She stood a little straighter, lifting her chin as she ignored her mother hissing her name. “I won’t play for anyone but Coach Dalton.”
I sank down into my chair as Dani stood in response to Adrienne’s declaration. “That goes for me, too.”
Paige vaulted to her feet. “And me!”
One by one every Lady Panther in the room stood, echoing the sentiments of their teammates. Many of their parents stood with them. I looked at Sandy, who was turning in a slow circle, a tear rolling down her cheek as she watched her players literally stand up for her.
The meeting went on for a little while longer. We heard from several other parents, including Mr. Yew, Sherri’s dad, and Brianna’s mom, along with Patrick Harrington. But despite the unvarying support, when Chairwoman Dobbin called for the vote my heart was up in my throat.
“The motion to suspend Coach Dalton pending an investigation is on the floor. All in favor?” Hendon Smith’s hand shot up, along with one other woman who had not spoken through the evening. Another hand started to rise but dropped, earning a nasty look from Councilman Smith. Ms. Dobbin waited a moment, but no more hands went up. “All opposed?”
Five arms went up almost immediately.
“The motion fails.”
A hand went up from the white-bearded gentleman. “I motion to adjourn.”
“Seconded!” That came from several members, and the subsequent vote was unanimous. Whoops and cheers went up from the players present as the board members stood and began to gather their things. I beamed up at Sandy, and we rose out of our chairs and embraced. She held me tight as people gathered around us, and when she pulled back slightly I looked up at her, meeting her kiss with a passion. Not too much, surrounded as we were, but everything in her body language said, ‘I love all of the support, but the only one I really need is you.’
We stayed another fifteen minutes, shaking hands with players, parents, and board members. I could feel the fatigue from the last few days starting to seep in as we made our way out of the building, but unfortunately the reporters, who weren’t allowed inside, were waiting for us there.
“Coach Dalton! Are you happy with the outcome?”
“One of my players tried to hurt herself, tried to end her life while it’s just getting started, so no. There is no ‘happy’ here. Sport should be politics free. It should be culture war free. It shouldn’t matter if you’re black or white, rich or poor, gay or straight, sports shouldn’t care. It should be a safe place, where we are all equal. A player of mine had that safe place ripped away from her by the people who were supposed to love her most. And that makes me so unbelievably sad. We still have a game to play tomorrow, but I can guarantee we’ll be thinking about her.”
With that she pushed through the small group of microphones and cameras, me trailing behind her hand in hand. Luckily no one tried to follow us or anything. I guess we weren’t that big of a deal.
We made it back to the house, where Will and Charlie were watching an episode of the Bad Batch. I was a little surprised that Charlie wasn’t up on his computer, but I got the impression that he was waiting for news.
“So?” His eyes were big as he looked back over the coach.
“Everything is good.”
“All right, Coach! Way to not get fired!”
Sandy chuckled. “Thanks, Charlie.” Will gave her a big thumbs up, too, and I admonished my sons to finish their episode and head towards bed.