Loving Sports when they don’t love you back – operating against the tide and in times of resistance
A few years ago I participated in an online panel for the Australian launch of an excellent book, Loving Sports when they don’t love you back: Dilemmas of the modern fan, written by sports writers Jessica Luther and Kavitha Davison. I highly recommend reading it! On the panel I spoke specifically about the chapter on LGBTIQ+ fans. Luther and Davison’s ideas resonated with me and made me question why I do the research and work I do. With all the resistance to LGBTIQ+ inclusion efforts in Australia and across the globe in recent years, and getting asked to do (what felt like) media every other week, it was clear that sports did not love me back at all. But on reflection, was it sports broadly, the culture within sport, sports organisations and those who govern it? Sport is a complex ecosystem and a lot of factors contribute to it. Nonetheless, sport as an industry, has become a really challenging place for me to work and operate in. This is not dissimilar from others who work in DEI spaces, or in domestic violence, for example. I have loved sport my whole life, but recently it has become a love/hate relationship.
I started playing sport when I was 5 years old, and was 6 when I picked up a short tennis racket for the first time. I played on all the sports teams at primary and secondary school, was always top in cross country running, and a good team player. I think this helped me because I was never bullied at school; people needed me on their sports teams to win. Later I specialised in hockey, long distance running, and tennis. I have played tennis all my life and still continue to play to this day. I became a hockey umpire when I was 14, and by 18 I was coaching tennis at university. I went to Loughborough University, one of the best (if not the best ) universities for sport in the UK. My top 3 options were to go to Loughborough. I wanted to live, breathe and study sport. Since then, I have devoted myself to sport. It has given me a great life. I have travelled the world, volunteered at the London 2012 Olympics, attended historic live sports events including the women’s world cup, the Australian Open Grand Slam, and done research across a range of sport environments and programs and countries.
I am currently in the US visiting a colleague at Florida State University in Tallahassee. I can’t help but smile as I walk through this campus with world class sports facilities, a huge football stadium, numerous tennis courts, volleyball courts, a swimming pool. It is a sporting heaven for me. I will always love sport. But recently my relationship with it has become more of the hate in the love/hate nexus.
For many years now I have been working and advocating in the sport sector across all levels for sport to become more inclusive of LGBTIQ+ communities and to take action against homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia. I will continue to do so, but actively chose to step back this year. I moved on from the charity I co-founded, Proud2Play, where I have been working for the past few years, and am exploring other opportunities in my diversity and inclusion research beyond the sport sector. In the past year, resistance to advancements in progress for LGBTIQ+ inclusion has increased, and I feel like I have hit a wall with my efforts; the movement seems to be halted, going backwards, and taking me with it. It came to a head this year when some projects and partners I had been working with on LGBTIQ+ inclusion, cut ties and no longer do any work in the LGBTIQ+ space. This hurt because of all the time and effort invested (3 years), not to mention the emotional energy, for a result that ultimately went nowhere.
The aim is for DEI work to become institutionalised and embedded within the organisation. But I have yet to see this happen in sport, especially when key personnel and champions of diversity leave. Some people seem to believe that engaging in LGBTIQ+ specific diversity work, will harm their organisation and their sport. Traditional men’s dominated sports believe that doing a pride round or any rainbow related activities, will switch off and alienate their fan base. But what about the fan base in twenty years’ time? We know from research across the globe in countries such as Australia, the UK and US, more young people are identifying as sexually and gender diverse. For example, Stonewall in the UK found that only 71% of Gen Z identified as heterosexual, compared to 91% of baby boomers. Sport organisations need to start planning for the future of their future fans and players. And let me tell you, young people do not want to be affiliated and support organisations that do not promote values around inclusion, belonging, and safety.
I have heard every excuse and justification under the sun as to why sports organisations, or certain administrators with power and influence, cannot commit to or engage in efforts to promote inclusion for LGBTIQ+ people in their sport. And when they do, they ride on the coat tails of the women’s teams, and do nothing in the men’s game. Here are some of the main excuses I have heard over the years: no money or funding, not in our strategic plan, no appetite for it, do not have any LGBTIQ+ players or fans, gays do not want to play sports and have no interest, too political, not ready yet, do not want to be tokenistic so do nothing at all, no commercial interest or viability, sponsors prefer to support other more palatable causes or forms of diversity. The list goes on.
One of the most pervasive narratives I have heard across several sporting codes is that Mums don’t want to send their daughters to play certain sports in case they turn into lesbians. Firstly, lesbians are awesome, and lesbian athletes in particular have made some of the most significant contributions to sport we have seen. Secondly, playing a sport does not make you gay. I play sport with straight people every week and I am still gay; I have not turned straight. The funny thing about women’s sport spaces and those who come out and affirm their sexuality, they do so because it is a safe and affirming space where they feel comfortable. This should be celebrated. But regardless of when and if they come out, picking up a cricket bat, kicking a football, or launching a netball is not going to cause this to happen. As the famous footballing meme says, ‘They’re lesbians Stacey’. If they are a lesbian, playing certain sports will not change that.
The climate for LGBTIQ+ people in sport is getting better, and my research shows this, however slow it may be. But discrimination and resistance to LGBTIQ+ inclusion efforts still exists. The current landscape for trans athletes is divisive, toxic, and unwelcoming. This so called ‘debate’ has real life consequences, and appears to bring the absolute worst out in people. A litmus test for me to measure progress in years to come is to ask this: Would I want to join a sport board? Would I feel comfortable working in sport or for a sport organisation or club? Currently – absolutely not. I would not give my time and energy to an organisation or sector that does not value my contributions, does not support my community, and actively resists efforts to promote inclusion for people like myself.
Flags in stadiums seen as political messages, narratives that sport and politics should not mix, pride rounds seen as divisive, out players not being able to wear rainbow armbands or speak about their sexuality, bans for transgender athletes, all contribute to a climate of exclusion sending the message that sport does not welcome LGBTIQ+ people. Sport, historically, does not want people like me. When I go to events, panels, gatherings in sport, there are very few gay men (that are out at least). Do you know any gay men CEOs in sport, on boards, coaches? My research over the years has shown that gay men do not engage in sport as much as the wider population because they do not think it is welcoming, and many have had traumatic experiences as young people. One phrase that stands out to me, recalled by numerous gay male participants over my years of research, “Please don’t pass me the ball’, where gay men would pray that they wouldn’t have to kick or engage with the ball in PE. There are some gay men who do engage and play in LGBTIQ+ inclusive teams, but I see very few who work in sport. My hope for future generations of gay men is that sport is seen as a viable career option, and includes working on boards and committees.
Part of my desire to have this special series on resistance to DEI, is to explore the causes and explanations of resistance. I believe we must truly understand the nature of resistance to overcome it and address it in strategic ways. In this vein, we need to understand how groups have historically mobilised and responded to increased resistance, from the civil rights movement in the US, to the gay liberation movement. Systems of oppression work and intersect to disproportionately affect minority groups.
Resistance to DEI has become fascinating but personal to me – why people, organisations, and contexts, resist efforts to make positive changes to marginalised and excluded groups in society. Many of the questions or enquires I get from sports administrators revolve around how to respond to resistance or backlash. When I interview sports administrators, most can recall all the ways that their organisation or senior leadership teams have resisted efforts to be more inclusive for LGBTIQ+ people, but have little to say when asked about instances when they have supported LGBTIQ+ inclusion efforts. We have also seen broader resistance to DEI recently in Australia with a national no vote to the Voice to parliament, and the no campaign surrounding marriage equality. I am bewildered how people and organisations actively campaign every day for the rights of some social groups to be taken away or not to be advanced.
Recent events have re-ignited my passion for sport though - TV shows like Ted Lasso, Welcome to Wrexham, the Matildas (and Lionesses) exploits in the Women’s Football World Cup, and the growth of women’s sport more broadly. They show the good parts of sport, and the potential of sport. One of the best parts of sport too, are the people, and I have met and worked with some wonderful and inspirational people. It is those individuals who inspire me to keep doing this work. I will use my experience and the lessons I have learnt in sport, to help other sectors and the broader DEI space, through my work here at The Diversity Storr.
I continue to play tennis, and attend sports games with my friends, but my investment in sport as a whole, is taking a time out, and watching from the sidelines. I can’t help but love sport, but wish it loved me back. One day, I hope it will.