- Sep 3, 2005
- 8,799
- 7,548
And the rest...
After I dislocated my kneecap at an away meet in Michigan, I had knee surgery, and she took steps to ensure that I would be pushed out. She would always have a limited budget in who could travel with the team. Those that traveled would “earn it” over others. So, naturally I wasn’t worthy. I paid my way to sit in the stands and watch my team at NCAA’s. On crutches. By the end of the year, she told the team not to talk to me. My own roommates wouldn’t talk to me either. I was depressed and alone. I rehabbed my knee at school. By the end of the year, she told me she would not be renewing my scholarship. She would wait and see how I looked in the fall. At first I was training at Woodward west. But after being warned that Miss Val was checking in on me, not in a good way, I flew home and trained in New Jersey. It was there, isolated from that environment, I was able to truly enjoy gymnastics again. At the end of the summer, a few days before flying back to LA, I got a call from the teammate I was supposed to be getting an apartment with, saying that Miss Val told her she couldn’t room with me. When I flew back for pre-season, I had nowhere to live. Thankfully, my great aunt took me in at the last minute until I could find a single apartment. This all happened while I was “trying out” for the team again. I was doing half routines on bars, I was tumbling and I was vaulting again. I felt good about my training. I should have known that none of it mattered.
I walked into my meeting with Miss Val and Chris Waller was there as well. Miss Val said they’ve decided not to renew my scholarship. I said I had demonstrated half routines already and that I was much stronger, etc. She waited until I was done and said, “Well, I guess we’re just... agreeing to disagree,” she said with relish, melodically ending on a high note. I got quiet after that. It was right then, that I realized how long she had held onto that grudge from that meeting. I remember her keenly watching my face for that realization to happen. Chris was new to UCLA as a coach, and was not present for that freshman year meeting, so he had no idea what significance that statement held. As I stayed quiet, various things flitted through my mind. I remembered in the past, hearing how Miss Val would brag about how other girls sobbed and begged when they were kicked off the team. I swore to myself right then that I wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. I remained quiet. Miss Val eventually asked, “Well, do you have anything to say to me? Like F-you or thank you?” I couldn’t believe it. This was how she was ending my entire career. She was also inviting me to curse her out, which was really odd, and I thought maybe she thinks I’ll take the bait. So after some thought, I took a shaking breath and said, “No I’m pretty neutral right now. The f-you side of me would say, talk to my lawyer, and the thank you side of me would say thank you for the three years prior.” Then I walked out and quietly went to pieces in the hallway.
It was too late to transfer at this point. It was late September of my senior year. She wouldn’t just let me finish out my senior year with the team. Not even as support. This was my punishment. She ended my career on her terms, with disrespect and an F-you, all for the sake of her own petty vendetta.
Today, I find it quite amazing how she can now blog about the horrors of Martha ostracizing teammates. I have to give her credit here. Miss Val certainly knows which way the wind is blowing. Same thing with 9/11. A very useful PR tool, until it wasn’t. And back when I was first finding my voice, speaking out about abusive coaching on that New Year’s Eve, the code of silencing athletes to protect fellow coaches and USAG was still the rule of the day. From my perspective, the goal of her methods were to shut me up and shut me down. Maybe she thought I’d be so miserable that I’d just go die somewhere quietly. But I’m still here Miss Val, and you can’t erase me. Teaming up again with Mary Lee won’t work anymore either. It only tells me you are still a bully, using provocation as a form of control.
This is an example of the handiwork when adult coaches make psychologically unsound choices on behalf of their own egos. It was never about the athlete. It had zero to do with gymnastics. Neither of these women actually cared about what their self serving agendas would do to me as a human being. The real sad part is, no matter how messed up the situation gets, there’s always that part of the athlete that wants their coach to approve of them. This really messes a gymnast up, because abusive coaching will lead you to believe that your successes or failures directly reflect your worth as a person. I was lucky that I had a small circle of teammates on the fringe that understood, and said out loud, what we went through was abuse. They were my lifeline. They still are. I was lucky to have a supportive family, and supportive coaches from earlier in my career that reminded me they were proud, and that I was not the problem. It has taken me many years, only until recently, to decide to give that notion any credence.
After I dislocated my kneecap at an away meet in Michigan, I had knee surgery, and she took steps to ensure that I would be pushed out. She would always have a limited budget in who could travel with the team. Those that traveled would “earn it” over others. So, naturally I wasn’t worthy. I paid my way to sit in the stands and watch my team at NCAA’s. On crutches. By the end of the year, she told the team not to talk to me. My own roommates wouldn’t talk to me either. I was depressed and alone. I rehabbed my knee at school. By the end of the year, she told me she would not be renewing my scholarship. She would wait and see how I looked in the fall. At first I was training at Woodward west. But after being warned that Miss Val was checking in on me, not in a good way, I flew home and trained in New Jersey. It was there, isolated from that environment, I was able to truly enjoy gymnastics again. At the end of the summer, a few days before flying back to LA, I got a call from the teammate I was supposed to be getting an apartment with, saying that Miss Val told her she couldn’t room with me. When I flew back for pre-season, I had nowhere to live. Thankfully, my great aunt took me in at the last minute until I could find a single apartment. This all happened while I was “trying out” for the team again. I was doing half routines on bars, I was tumbling and I was vaulting again. I felt good about my training. I should have known that none of it mattered.
I walked into my meeting with Miss Val and Chris Waller was there as well. Miss Val said they’ve decided not to renew my scholarship. I said I had demonstrated half routines already and that I was much stronger, etc. She waited until I was done and said, “Well, I guess we’re just... agreeing to disagree,” she said with relish, melodically ending on a high note. I got quiet after that. It was right then, that I realized how long she had held onto that grudge from that meeting. I remember her keenly watching my face for that realization to happen. Chris was new to UCLA as a coach, and was not present for that freshman year meeting, so he had no idea what significance that statement held. As I stayed quiet, various things flitted through my mind. I remembered in the past, hearing how Miss Val would brag about how other girls sobbed and begged when they were kicked off the team. I swore to myself right then that I wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. I remained quiet. Miss Val eventually asked, “Well, do you have anything to say to me? Like F-you or thank you?” I couldn’t believe it. This was how she was ending my entire career. She was also inviting me to curse her out, which was really odd, and I thought maybe she thinks I’ll take the bait. So after some thought, I took a shaking breath and said, “No I’m pretty neutral right now. The f-you side of me would say, talk to my lawyer, and the thank you side of me would say thank you for the three years prior.” Then I walked out and quietly went to pieces in the hallway.
It was too late to transfer at this point. It was late September of my senior year. She wouldn’t just let me finish out my senior year with the team. Not even as support. This was my punishment. She ended my career on her terms, with disrespect and an F-you, all for the sake of her own petty vendetta.
Today, I find it quite amazing how she can now blog about the horrors of Martha ostracizing teammates. I have to give her credit here. Miss Val certainly knows which way the wind is blowing. Same thing with 9/11. A very useful PR tool, until it wasn’t. And back when I was first finding my voice, speaking out about abusive coaching on that New Year’s Eve, the code of silencing athletes to protect fellow coaches and USAG was still the rule of the day. From my perspective, the goal of her methods were to shut me up and shut me down. Maybe she thought I’d be so miserable that I’d just go die somewhere quietly. But I’m still here Miss Val, and you can’t erase me. Teaming up again with Mary Lee won’t work anymore either. It only tells me you are still a bully, using provocation as a form of control.
This is an example of the handiwork when adult coaches make psychologically unsound choices on behalf of their own egos. It was never about the athlete. It had zero to do with gymnastics. Neither of these women actually cared about what their self serving agendas would do to me as a human being. The real sad part is, no matter how messed up the situation gets, there’s always that part of the athlete that wants their coach to approve of them. This really messes a gymnast up, because abusive coaching will lead you to believe that your successes or failures directly reflect your worth as a person. I was lucky that I had a small circle of teammates on the fringe that understood, and said out loud, what we went through was abuse. They were my lifeline. They still are. I was lucky to have a supportive family, and supportive coaches from earlier in my career that reminded me they were proud, and that I was not the problem. It has taken me many years, only until recently, to decide to give that notion any credence.
