Ruby Griffin, a seasoned tennis player at five, is taking lessons at the Burbank Tennis Center. She shows her mom, Castro, the proper forehand position as taught by the coach, who advises holding the racket like a surfer on a board. ‘She’s the tennis girly,’ says Castro, who is 42 and lives in Toluca Lake, acknowledging Ruby’s leadership role in the class.
The new Mommy and Me tennis class encourages caregivers to actively participate with their children rather than merely dropping them off. Castro, once involved in dance and cheerleading, shifted her identity to motherhood but is gradually reclaiming her sense of self. The class integrates warm-up drills, a move back towards her individuality.
At these classes, young participants sport Hello Kitty shirts and Dodger hats, barely reaching the net’s height. Coach Chessa Mehlman sees young players eager to display skills, even humorously sitting on their rackets. While not exactly Wimbledon-level, these moments resonate with mothers seeking to expand their athletic identities. This year, six mothers competed in Wimbledon women’s singles, including Serena Williams, Naomi Osaka, and Elina Svitolina, all motivated by their roles as mothers.
Williams expressed her return was about sharing experiences with her children. During her comeback attempt, Williams demonstrated powerful serves amid injury setbacks but hinted at future participation. For mothers, obstacles to maintaining athletic lives include childcare, time, financial resources, bodily recovery, and environments that welcome re-entry.
Kimberly Foon took a long hiatus from tennis for family and work but now finds the Mommy and Me class a perfect balance. She and her son Ian enjoy fun summer activities like water balloon games, fostering joy and connection. In Los Angeles, parent-child classes abound, but Mehlman’s tennis class is distinct in facilitating active involvement for both kids and adults.
The class emerged from watching mothers on the sidelines and creating opportunities for them to engage actively. With barriers lowered, Mehlman aims to make the class a regular offering. Participants share tips and stories, enjoying reconnecting with tennis after breaks or new experiences.
The societal shift often sidelines mothers post-parenthood, as historian Victoria L. Jackson notes. Historically, athletes faced challenges, like exclusion from women’s track until 1960, yet figures like Wilma Rudolph achieved significant wins despite familial roles. Such grassroots solutions can drive broader societal change.
Alysia Montaño, an Olympian, contested sports’ view of motherhood as limiting. She raced while pregnant, advocating for equality with the launch of For All Mothers+. Her nonprofit provides grants, gear, and training resources to support mothers. Recent research shows mothers bear the majority of childcare responsibilities necessary to train and compete.
The motherhood penalty refers to perceived reductions in ambition or capability. Mothers like Stephanie Johannesmeyer fight societal expectations to pursue active roles. Balancing her career and chronic illness, she ran the Disney World Marathon with grant support, exemplifying resilience and dedication.
Johannesmeyer highlights that maintaining self-identity benefits her parenting, inspiring her daughter Athena to embrace strengths despite weaknesses. Many class attendees echo this sentiment. Nicole LeVine records joyful moments with her son Roman, also integrating tennis into their lives. While establishing his athletic identity, LeVine claims hers by dedicating time each week for tennis play, which led to recognition as an athlete.