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Title IX 40 for 40: Suzanne Bailey
Suzanne Bailey was a two-sport star at Brown before graduating in 1991, earning Ivy League Player of the Year and first-team All-America honors in both sports. She went on to play for the US National Lacrosse Team and is currently an English teacher at The Potomac School in McLean, Va.
What impact has Title IX had on you?
Bailey: It is impossible for me to describe the
full impact Title IX has had on my life. Needless to say, its
impact has been profound because at my core I define myself as an
athlete—personally and professionally. And nothing I have
experienced as an athlete—at any stage—would have been
possible without the vision, courage and resolve of women who came
before me. When I first considered this question, I was on a
barrier island off the coast of North Carolina. In this setting I
pictured, metaphorically, girls today riding tall waves, skimming
through half-pipes on sleek boards: this summer the U.S. Olympic
Team will be comprised of more women than men for the first time in
history. My group of women rode the crests of these
waves—rising high, seeing all possibilities, well on our way.
We could play on elite travel squads, we cheered for the
women’s national soccer team, we were recruited and we vied
for college scholarships. Women who were athletes before Title IX
were the ones who swam across the ocean. They launched an era that
provided my generation with the privilege of not even having to
think about whether pursuing athletics was a viable option.
Formally my athletic career began at age five in 1974—two
years after the passage of Title IX—when my mom registered me
for soccer with the “Annandale (Virginia) Boys Club”
(no questions asked). I went on to play multiple sports in high
school, compete in two of them (soccer and lacrosse) at the
Division I level, and then train for four years with the U.S.
women’s lacrosse team. Today, beyond Bikram yoga, cycling or
hiking, athletics continues to shape the way I approach
relationships and responsibilities, both personal and professional.
Through athletics, I know that each person’s role is vital to
the success of any venture. This understanding was honed through
years of discipline to practice, commitment to team, the experience
of shared wins and losses, a nuanced appreciation for leadership
and honest—sometimes difficult—self-assessment. Both on
the field and off, such lessons reinforce imperatives of effort,
accountability and resilience. They also render unacceptable
excuses for either not getting a job done or not being present for
someone who needs the support of a “teammate.”
What has Title IX done for women outside the sports realm?
Bailey: Risk-taking is inherent in sport. In fact,
our word for “play” is derived from the Old English
plegan, which means literally “to take a risk.” I
believe opportunities for women to compete, created by Title IX,
have emboldened women to take risks beyond the realm of
sport. Playing sports has helped girls push themselves harder, set
and obtain more ambitious goals, learn skills of collaboration,
confront challenges and become more confident and resilient. On a
social level, Title IX also empowered women as it said
clearly to businesses and government that they could not
discriminate against women or minorities in their hiring
practices.
Additionally, I think Title IX’s contribution to increased
sports participation has given men and women another shared
language of understanding. Whether playing against or alongside
boys, or competing in gender-separate settings, athletes understand
each other through that experience. I believe an ease of
interaction and a sense of mutual respect grows from these shared
experiences. Whether having ankles taped in the training room next
to guys on the football team, bemoaning the Red Sox’s woes at
work with whomever is in the faculty lounge, or even speaking
metaphorically in the language of sport, men and women have the
opportunity to interact through a common appreciation or
dedication. When this language involves an endeavor as profound as
sport, which encompasses a person’s entire being—body,
intellect and emotion—the potential for understanding and
mutual respect is significant.
What is the biggest challenge to women in sports?
Bailey: One challenge pertaining directly to Title
IX involves an unfortunate public perception of the law’s
impact on collegiate athletic programs. Sadly, since the inception
of Title IX, hundreds of men’s programs, such as wrestling,
tennis and gymnastics, have been cut from their departments’
budgets. Title IX is often blamed, erroneously, for these
eliminations. This interpretation is overly simplistic, fueled by a
misunderstanding that “major” men’s sports, such
as football and basketball, typically generate the revenue
essential to fund all other athletic programs; thus, these programs
are untouchable. I was intrigued by an article I read recently,
which clarified for me that the reality is far more complex. Forbes.com presented breakdowns of revenues, expenses,
and profits of football and basketball programs in various
conferences and considered their impact on their
universities’ overall athletic department budgets.
What I saw was that unless an institution is a national powerhouse
like University of Florida, whose football program generates
extraordinary profit, colleges and universities do ultimately
decide how to allocate funds for athletics—implicitly and
explicitly making value statements through their programs. Although
not easy, it thus seems possible that many institutions could
devise approaches to preserve “minor” men’s
athletic programs. Yet I know there are many factors I do not
understand, and I am aware that even smart, fair, thoughtful,
people from my own alma mater, Brown University, have struggled
with this issue. My point is simply that the knee-jerk reaction to
blame women’s sports for eliminating men’s programs is
hurtful to everyone who cares.
Beyond the legislation itself, I think one of the biggest
challenges to women’s sports right now is defining what
“having arrived” looks like: should the goal on the
women’s side be to emulate the model of big-time men’s
sports? Controversy abounds surrounding the
“professionalization” of college sport and the
exploitation of the big-time (male) athlete, so perhaps women have
an opportunity to proceed differently. The lure of competing before
a massive TV audience, striving for the professional ranks, and
perhaps turning a game into a livelihood is obviously enticing.
However, the percentage of male athletes who actually follow this
path is infinitesimal while the casualties are countless. Where
should the ceiling be for women? Do women have a chance to
“do it right” by avoiding such trappings of success?
Can women still benefit from all the lessons athletics offers, but
also maintain perspective and “go pro”—as the
NCAA public-service announcement says—in something other than
the sport she played in college?
Who is someone you view as a pioneer in women’s
athletics and why?
Bailey: For different reasons, I see
Martina Navratilova and Billie Jean
King as pioneers in women’s athletics. Martina was a
role model for young, athletic girls who neither looked like, nor
could relate to, “Chrissie” Evert, a
tremendous sportswoman in her own right. Quintessential American
girl, slender, blonde and adorned in ruffles, Chrissie was easy for
the public to embrace; even her toughness was cute. Her rivalry
with Martina would become legendary and seemed grounded by a
healthy sense of mutual respect. However, Martina was the
“anti-Chrissie” in many ways: Slavic, muscular, lacking
enough hair for a bouncy pony-tail. No ruffles—she looked
terribly uncomfortable in her tennis dress. Martina’s
toughness was visceral; thus, she posed more of a challenge.
Martina was the strong, skin-kneed girl who ventured beyond the
“tomboy” stage into something far bigger. This advance
naturally made her vulnerable to social critique. While this
happened, young girls like me had the privilege of watching Martina
navigate these uncertain waters. Benefitting from her triumphs and
missteps, listening to the dialogue surrounding her
“image,” admiring her struggle to become
comfortable—and then ultimately graceful and
powerful—in her sinewy skin, we found our own ways, not
feeling bound by a single image of a successful female athlete.
Later in life I also appreciated Martina’s intellect and
eloquence in addition to her strength and athleticism.
In accepting Bobby Riggs’ pompous challenge
in 1973 to determine the “champion of women’s
tennis,” Billie Jean King placed herself in a situation where
she absolutely could not lose. King’s contemporary,
Margaret Court, had already crumbled under the
weight of the challenge and lost badly to Riggs, but Billie Jean
delivered in a way that captured public attention. I think it is
sad that a woman at the peak of her professional athletic career
actually had to defeat a man nearly twice her age on national
television to “prove” anything, but King recognized
that laws and public opinion do not necessarily change
simultaneously. While Title IX had legislated “equal”
opportunity, the process of women earning respect for their
athletic talents was in its infancy. King went on to champion for
equal prize money in tournaments, almost prophesying the next
frontier of “success” in women’s
athletics—appearance fees, professional contracts or
lucrative endorsement deals.



